Played by Cara Dee
One
All right, he’d stalled long enough. The clucking outside got louder, and it was only a matter of maybe half an hour before Gray woke up.
Darius drew a deep breath, kissed Gray’s neck, then dragged himself out of bed and stepped into his jeans. On the way to the bathroom downstairs, he snatched up a beater and a flannel shirt.
He rotated his shoulders, yawned, and slowly restarted his brain as he relieved himself and washed up. New day. Big day, to boot. They had a lot going on.
In the kitchen, he turned on the oven and checked in on the bread on the island. Both loaves had risen overnight and were ready to bake.
He took a minute to appreciate the newest addition to the kitchen, a narrow wood stove with two burners that stood right next to their regular gas stove.
Gray wanted a microwave…
Darius had won this round, but he was planning to give the knucklehead a microwave for his birthday in a few months. For now, he soaked up his victory and started a fire in the wood stove. Because absolutely nothing could top having breakfast with his family and drinking coffee made on that thing. The stove was just one more step closer to self-reliance. It would work if the power went out, and that was the goal, wasn’t it? Life should go on as usual even if the rest of the world erupted in chaos.
After placing the loaves in the regular oven, Darius crossed the living room area and stuck his feet into his boots in the entryway. He heard the patter of quick feet upstairs and smiled to himself. The first breath of fresh air filled his lungs as soon as he stepped out onto the porch, and he stretched his arms over his head and let the morning invade his senses. The sun was rising between the trees. A blanket of fog rested on the forest floor. Birds chirped. The water in the stream rushed and gurgled.
It was getting chillier each morning. Summer was nearing its end, and soon, they wouldn’t be having all their meals on the porch. Back during the comically brief moment it’d only been Darius and Gray in the cabin, eating in front of the TV had worked just fine. But now they had two more mouths to feed, and kids deserved a proper dinner table.
They’d prioritized sturdy furniture for the porch, because come rain or sunshine, this was the place to eat in the summer. Darius had demanded a wide roof for a reason. From here, he could see most of their property. Here, he sat in the evenings with his last cup of coffee for the day, looked out over their land, and planned future chores and projects.
It was a long list, despite that they’d come far already.
A dining table and four chairs had recently been added to the list—they’d fit fine in the empty space between the kitchen and living room—and as he heard the door creak behind him, he added one more thing. The hinges needed greasing.
He glanced back just as Jayden stepped out, wearing only pajama bottoms, boots, and the cowboy hat Pop had given him.
He grinned sleepily. “I almost forgot my hat.”
Darius smiled back. “You really like that thing, don’t you?” It was cute as fuck, he had to admit.
Jayden nodded and skipped down the steps, landing on the grass with both feet. “It’s cool.”
Darius followed, and the two trailed toward the back of the property. Behind the guest cabin, against the mountain wall, right by the beginning of the stream that gushed out from the cliffside, they’d assembled their new chicken coop.
Gathering the day’s supplies in the morning had become one of Darius’s favorite chores since Jayden started joining him.
The kid snatched up the basket that hung on a hook right outside and opened the netted door to the coop. He’d been a little scared of the rooster the first week, but he’d learned that ignoring the bird and not giving it too wide of a berth was the best trick. Otherwise, the rooster could get cocky.
Darius’s father had once abandoned the farm life he’d been born into to join the Army, and to this day, he claimed he hated everything having to do with farming. Yet, he’d driven up here several times a week lately to share pro tips and “have a look around.”
Darius figured his old man found it peaceful here. After all, the farm life could be charming as fuck if you didn’t have to lift a finger.
Jayden watched Darius collect a couple eggs, then asked, “Why do you knock on the shell?”
“To see if it’s strong enough.” Darius slipped a hand under one of the hens and grabbed another egg. “Come here.” He bent down a little and held the egg to Jayden’s ear. “A strong shell sounds like this.” He knocked it lightly. “And it doesn’t break. See? We don’t want weak shells. That means the hens might not be getting enough calcium—and bacteria spreads easier.”
Jayden nodded thoughtfully.
His willingness and eagerness to learn had turned Darius into a complete sucker for parenthood. What’d once been a topic to scoff at—and after decades of swearing up and down that having kids and settling down was never for him—there was just no going back. Two boys had, in their own ways, reeled Darius in beyond comprehension.
Then there was Gray…
Christ.
“Ooof!” Jayden quickly withdrew his hands when a hen got aggressive.
Darius narrowed his eyes at the bird. She’d done the same thing yesterday and the day before. “I reckon we’ll leave her alone. Maybe she wants to hatch.”
Jayden perked up at that and followed Darius out of the coop. “Does that mean she’ll have a baby?”
“Sure does.” Darius locked up and accepted the basket from the boy. Another boy would get ecstatic if there were any baby chicks soon—Justin. The book Gray was currently reading to him before bedtime had chickens in it. Not as food either.
That would be a fun day, Darius mused wryly. Raising chickens was a bit more than cuddling with yellow fuzzballs. How would Justin react if the chick died at the hatching?
Time would tell.
They walked down to the little bridge and crossed the stream, and Darius snorted to himself when hockey rink popped up in his head. It was what Gray called the property, because combined, it was about the size of a hockey rink, split in two by the stream. Fucking hockey players. Gray would say, “Yeah, it’s on the other side of the rink,” or “Are you building that in the rink or outside?” And some terms stuck, evidently.
Darius owned a fair piece of forest here too, but those were just hunting grounds. They had no plans to expand outside the stream. Except for a garage. Darius wanted a garage at some point, ’cause right now, their truck and the Wagoneer stood parked at the bottom of the property, and tree sap was a motherfucking bitch to clean off.
It was on the list.
“What’re we picking?” Jayden asked.
Darius scanned their little field and remembered Gray was gonna make French fries from scratch for the barbecue today. “You might wanna get another basket from the house. We’ll need a lot of potatoes.”
Potatoes were about the only thing they had an abundance of. With everything they’d had to prepare this past spring, from the greenhouse to readying the guest cabin, they’d only had enough time to grow half the crops they had room for. Potatoes, carrots, and green beans were plentiful, and then they had some other vegetables in the greenhouse, though not nearly as many as Darius was making plans for next year.
While Jayden darted back toward the cabin, Darius headed down to the greenhouse, where he picked some tomatoes, herbs, sprouts, and lettuce. The latter didn’t grow as well as he’d thought. Gray had warned him that lettuce belonged in the ground, and maybe the knucklehead was right.
It was a learning curve to build their own produce section.
At least they’d gotten tomatoes and berries right. Alongside the mountain wall grew all kinds. Blackberries, strawberries, raspberries—some rhubarb, too.
They’d be better prepared next year. Darius still had a lot of reading to do when it came to growing crops and being able to avoid buying shit like soil and plant nutrition. Only a couple months ago, he’d finished building their compost—and just last week, he learned that ground eggshells were good to mix in with the soil. Who’da fuckin’ thought?
Some twenty minutes later, Darius and Jayden were done for the morning, and they returned inside with their findings. By then, Gray was by the stove, and Justin was watching cartoons.
The cabin smelled of freshly baked bread, browned butter, and coffee.
“Good morning! We’re back!” Jayden kicked off his boots, hung up his cowboy hat, and ran across the floor to hand Gray the basket with eggs and vegetables.
“Good morning, buddy.” Gray smiled and combed his fingers through Jayden’s hair. “You excited about today?”
“Yeah, I can’t wait to see the cake.” Jayden’s eyes lit up with anticipation.
Darius chuckled and set the potatoes on the kitchen island. It was all they’d heard this week. The kid had visited Elise’s pastry shop a single time, and his eyes had nearly bugged out. And when she’d offered to make his birthday cake, Darius was fairly certain the boy had fallen in love. Now, whenever Darius’s sister stopped by, Jayden was the first to greet her.
“Okay, too many people in my kitchen again,” Gray announced. Then he snuck closer to Darius and stole a quick kiss. “Morning, baby. You two go wash up and wait outside. Justin and I will bring out breakfast in ten minutes.”
Justin piped up from the couch with a yawn. “I’m hungry.”
Darius had no issue obeying Gray’s standard order, so he ushered Jayden toward the bathroom.
Their morning routine had a solid spot in Darius’s heart.
After washing up, he ducked into the kitchen quickly to grab a toothpick, and then he went outside with Jayden. Kicking his nicotine addiction was rough, but he was down to two smokes a day now, and Gray expressed his appreciation in the bedroom. In other words, Darius couldn’t complain, and chewing on a toothpick kept him from going insane.
“Good work this morning, small fry.” He sat down in his chair with a sigh of contentment.
Jayden grinned bashfully and took his seat next to Darius. “I like doing that stuff.”
“Me too.” He couldn’t put into words just how much. This had been his plan for years and years, though without any company involved. He was supposed to be here alone. Back in the day, dreams of solitude and farm work had brought him peace. He’d worked hard to cut the strings from society, one by one. Now he couldn’t imagine a day without Gray, Jayden, and Justin. They worked together like a team, like a squadron.
Darius sighed again and leaned back, shifting the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other, and he glanced up at the hanging flowerpots along the edge of the roof. It’d been Gray’s idea to grow wild flowers and herbs right here on the porch.
Jayden snatched up the blanket draped over the back of his chair and wrapped it around himself.
“Gray told me you need new clothes,” Darius said.
The boy eyed him. “I want that kind.” He nodded at Darius’s shirt.
Darius chuckled quietly. He’d be more than happy to help out if he didn’t have to go into stores. “I’ll show you the catalogue where I order.” They might as well order a few shirts and pants in the next size too, ’cause at the rate Jayden was growing, it wouldn’t be long.
It seemed he’d shot up an inch or two just over the summer. He was understandably taller than the rest of his class at school since he was still a year behind academically. According to his teacher, Jayden would catch up within a year, which made Darius proud. The kid was smart as hell. For now, though, Jayden was enjoying second grade. The schoolwork wasn’t advanced, allowing him time to adjust and make friends.
Jayden shifted in his seat, his pale brown gaze flickering with uncertainty. Not for the first time lately, and Darius had a feeling he knew what the topic was. They’d been waiting.
“You know you can talk to me about anything, yeah?”
Jayden nodded and scratched his shoulder. “I guess I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
It took a few more seconds before he was done hesitating. “Is it weird that Justin calls you Dad and Daddy now?”
There it was.
“A little,” Darius admitted honestly. “Weird doesn’t mean bad, though. It’s…” Hard to explain. Justin’s approach had been so different too, and they assumed a non-investigated diagnosis was the reason. Actually, there were several reasons. “It’s overwhelming in a good way.” He figured Jayden’s confusion and hesitancy stemmed from how quickly Justin had made the switch. They’d only been living with Darius and Gray for a few months. “Like Gray and I told you the day we talked to Justin about it, we don’t want you to feel bad about whatever direction you wanna go. He’s younger and barely remembers his parents. Family is more of a concept he’s heard of from his time at Adeline’s place. Plus, you know he likes labels and when things are black-and-white.”
Gray didn’t feel any rush about putting Justin through an assessment with doctors either, for which Darius was glad. The boy was thriving and catching up to where his peers were when it came to development, and that was all that mattered at the moment. Was he different? Absolutely. But both Gray and Darius wanted to focus on Justin’s specific needs, and that involved listening to him, not a team of shrinks. They’d eventually go down that road, if necessary, but Justin was still only four years old. They had time. And right now, Justin mostly required a whole lot of affection, structure, and reassurance. Probably not unlike most kids.
“What do you think about Justin calling us Dad now?” Darius turned the question on Jayden, admittedly curious.
Jayden shrugged, then grinned a little. “It was funny the first time. He just said it, like ‘by the way.’”
It had been funny. As part of their transition into a foster family, the four of them spoke to a counselor once a month; in fact, the same counselor Jayden and Justin had gone to at Adeline’s. William Calvert. Great guy. Darius didn’t have many good things to say about head doctors, but that man knew what he was doing. The kids loved his easy manner, and he had a way about him that Darius respected. Calvert didn’t dig with pointed questions. He peeled back layer by layer with conversation.
The meaning of family had been last month’s subject. With help from Calvert—not that Gray needed it; it was mostly Darius and his awkward fumbling—they’d discussed labels, roles, brotherhood, and relations. They wanted the boys to know there were no expectations or pressure, no right or wrong direction. They were a family, regardless of what they called one another. A conversation that’d mainly been aimed at Justin, considering his age and how easily he became confused when the lines got blurry.
The lines weren’t blurry anymore. Right after the session, as they’d walked out to the car, Justin had informed them casually that he wanted to call them Dad and Daddy.
Darius threw a glance at the window, where he saw the top of Justin’s head. He was still watching his cartoons.
It was the strangest fucking sensation to be referred to as a father. Bizarre, even. At the same time, when Justin ran toward him and said Daddy, the boy essentially reached into Darius’s chest, formed a fist around his heart, and said, “Ha-ha, sucker, I’m holding this ticker hostage.”
Darius turned to Jayden again and ruffled his hair a little. “Don’t overthink things, small fry. Stick to whatever you’re most comfortable with, and you can change your mind many times over. No one’s going anywhere.”
Jayden quirked a faint smile and smoothed back his hair. “I know what I want. Just…I don’t know. I don’t know.”
Darius felt for the boy. “You know what you want, but it feels weird and it’s gonna take some time?”
Judging by the heat that bled across Jayden’s cheeks, Darius’s guess was right on the money.
“And that’s okay.” Darius reached over and kissed the top of Jayden’s head. Which was another thing they were working on. Jayden hadn’t yet gotten used to affection—he squirmed and pulled away—but if Justin received hugs and kisses, Jayden got jealous and ran up to his room. It was a sensitive age, in other words.
Yeah, life sure as shit had changed.
The topic was closed for now when Gray and Justin came out on the porch with breakfast. Darius’s stomach growled at the sight of the breakfast tray. Four plates, three of them mouthwateringly appealing. Because Justin didn’t like the texture of eggs. He just wanted his toast with butter and preserves.
“This looks fantastic.” Darius took a slow sip of his coffee and eyed all the food. Scrambled eggs, thick-cut bacon, blueberry muffins from yesterday when Gray’s mother stopped by, toast, and sliced cheese made for one proper breakfast.
“Can I try your coffee?” Jayden asked.
Darius extended the tin mug, tickled, and waited for the verdict. “It’s hot,” he cautioned.
“We’ll have to start calling you Darius Junior soon, sweetheart,” Gray said.
Jayden took a tiny sip and looked as if he’d just filled his mouth with something disgusting. However… “I like it!”
Darius pursed his lips. “Come here.” He got his mug back and decided to try something. “We’ll put some in your milk.” He poured a little more than a mouthful of coffee into Jayden’s glass. “Try that.”
Justin merely wrinkled his nose at the whole exchange.
Jayden’s eyes lit up at the next taste. Coffee with a shitload of milk was apparently good. “I like it!” he repeated, this time without bullshit.
“Attaboy.” Darius couldn’t help but feel a little proud. “Morning chores, coffee, and a big breakfast. That’s how you start your day.”
Jayden nodded approvingly and took another gulp.
Gray shook his head in amusement. “So today’s the day our boy started drinking coffee. Before we know it, he’s getting his driver’s license.”
Darius chuckled and shoveled some food into his mouth.
Conversation shifted to today’s errands, and Gray had a grocery list for Darius. Some things were missing for the barbecue, and Jayden’s birthday gift needed to be picked up in town, too.
“I’ll take care of it.” Darius nodded and broke off a piece of muffin. “You sure you don’t want me to buy ready-made fries at the store? It’s gonna take you hours to cut them yourself.”
“Back in the 1800s where you shop for your appliances, it would’ve,” Gray replied, reaching for his coffee. “In modern society, you can order a French fry cutter for $29.99 on Amazon and borrow your mom’s Prime to have it delivered in forty-eight hours, which I did earlier this week, so…in your old-school face.”
Darius grinned and took the ribbing.
Gray blew him a kiss.
Fucking brat.
Fucking Amazon too. That was how they’d ended up with a fryer and a goddamn smoothie maker this summer too.
He wasn’t gonna complain, though. Much. Gray was turning Darius’s house into a home, and he wouldn’t change that for anything. They had more pictures on the walls now. Knickknacks and keepsakes. Macaroni art and drawings.
Darius was enjoying the changes in Gray, too. The kid was stronger than ever, not necessarily physically but mentally. He was regaining his confidence. He’d replaced the bulk required for a hockey player with sleeker muscles that came from manual labor and grunt training. He’d stopped shaving when he realized that he could grow a beard, something he’d claimed he couldn’t when he’d been younger. These days, he rocked a trimmed beard, and Darius had to admit it was sexy as hell.
“My muffin is gone…” Justin leaned over to hug Gray’s arm, and he peered up at him with his puppy-dog eyes.
Gray smirked and bumped their foreheads together lightly. “You think I should give you mine, huh?”
Justin grinned sheepishly.
Gray chuckled and handed over the muffin. “Have at it. We have more inside.”
The boy dug in right away, triumph glinting in his eyes.
Finished with his breakfast, Darius sat back with his coffee and just listened to the conversation flowing. In a few minutes, he’d get another moment alone on the porch, when he could finish his coffee and have a cigarette before the day really kicked off. But yeah, along with spending his nights with Gray, their morning routine was, without a doubt, the best part of Darius’s day.
This was what it was all about.