I will not be great, but I'm grateful to get through
Mateo’s words land oddly, not wrong so much as angled in a way Ever hasn’t quite looked at yet. A dad. His head tilts to the side without him meaning to, the motion sharp and curious and decidedly canine. His mouth parts a little as the idea tries to rearrange itself in his mind, shifting from having a baby—concrete, specific, definable—into something larger and much harder to map. Fatherhood stretches out ahead of him in a way that makes his thoughts briefly skid, catching on possibilities he hasn’t prepared for.
Then Mateo is suddenly there, arms around him, kisses pressed to his cheeks, and Ever stiffens for a fraction of a second on pure instinct. He’s worked hard on this, on letting unexpected contact pass without panic, and Mateo is safe, familiar, predictable in his enthusiasm even when the timing isn’t. Ever exhales slowly and lets himself be held, shoulders easing as he waits for the moment to pass rather than fighting it. "She told me about a week ago," he says once Mateo pulls back enough for him to speak, his voice steady and practical again. He nods when asked if he’s okay. "I am." A small pause, then a shake of his head, almost apologetic. "I don’t need anything."
He hesitates, fingers tightening briefly around the piece of wood in his pocket before he looks back at his friend. "Well," Ever adds, considering, "maybe one thing. I was thinking...when I go to visit my mother, could you come with me?" His eyebrows lift slightly, hopeful but wary. "I want to ask her if she still has any baby books, and I worry that she'll manage to make me stay longer than I want to." Mateo, he knew, was as good as getting out of things as he was getting into them.
Then Mateo is suddenly there, arms around him, kisses pressed to his cheeks, and Ever stiffens for a fraction of a second on pure instinct. He’s worked hard on this, on letting unexpected contact pass without panic, and Mateo is safe, familiar, predictable in his enthusiasm even when the timing isn’t. Ever exhales slowly and lets himself be held, shoulders easing as he waits for the moment to pass rather than fighting it. "She told me about a week ago," he says once Mateo pulls back enough for him to speak, his voice steady and practical again. He nods when asked if he’s okay. "I am." A small pause, then a shake of his head, almost apologetic. "I don’t need anything."
He hesitates, fingers tightening briefly around the piece of wood in his pocket before he looks back at his friend. "Well," Ever adds, considering, "maybe one thing. I was thinking...when I go to visit my mother, could you come with me?" His eyebrows lift slightly, hopeful but wary. "I want to ask her if she still has any baby books, and I worry that she'll manage to make me stay longer than I want to." Mateo, he knew, was as good as getting out of things as he was getting into them.
