Mind Games

It had felt good, he couldn’t deny it, to be there, to do what he loved, to take back some of what he’d lost when the too much, just too much, had dimmed the light of it.

Now he was hanging a supervillain piñata in the backyard.

And he couldn’t deny that felt good, too.

Across the yard, Rem showed Bray tricks with the beanbag game. Lucy arranged chairs—most of them borrowed—in two back-to-back lines. Thea hung balloons.

Like family, he thought. Over the past months, they’d become his family.

His parents had given Bray a nice birthday party in Philadelphia. Scott and Blaze had come, with their ladies. His sister and brother, their families.

No games—but Bray had been fine with that, because presents. And cake.

But he couldn’t deny either that had been a visit, because it simply wasn’t home anymore, not for either of them.

He was kidding himself when he talked about maybe until Christmas or until spring.

They weren’t going anywhere. Not when he looked over, watched Rem holding Bray under his arm and pretending he’d toss him like a beanbag, and Bray screaming with excitement.

Not when he watched Thea tie the famous theme balloons together.

He glanced back at the house. “You’re going to take a lot of work.”

And it was time to take Knobby’s advice and hire an architect.

He was going to build himself a recording studio.

One day back in the studio had shown him he hadn’t finished with that part of his life. The touring, yeah, that was done, that was dusted. Performing—depended, and depended first on Bray, his needs, his schedule. But he wanted to make music again. To write it and to make it.

No reason in the world he couldn’t do that right here, where his kid had planted smiling pansies.

Job done, he walked over to Thea. “Is that right?”

She turned, one hand fisted on her hip. “He’s ghoulish. So perfect, and just the right height. And in good time. You’ve got about twenty minutes before kids start arriving.”

“He’s ready. And he’s already having a great birthday. Hell of a backdrop for it.”

She looked to the hills as he did, and their sweep of color. “Nothing like fall. It paints a picture.”

He cupped her chin, frowned a little. “You look tired.”

“What woman doesn’t love hearing that?”

“I mean it, you look tired.”

“I guess birthday excitement kept me awake.” At his long, quiet look, she shrugged. “Just had one of those nights where my mind wouldn’t shut off, so I worked late.”

“And you’re working now.”

“This isn’t work. It’s a party. I’m thinking about having another one.”

“Next year, when he’s six.”

“A dinner party. Maddy and Arlo, Rem. Did you know he’s started half dating Hanna Mansfield?”

“Bray’s teacher? I did not know that.”

“It’s not serious. But they’re seeing each other. So a party of six, if you’d come.”