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Leo was, once again, running late. Partially because of who he was as a person, but mainly, at least this time, because his cat was a massive asshole.
“Festus, where is my fucking dress shoe?” Leo demanded, frantically rifling through the piles of laundry he’d been avoiding. “This is a nice restaurant! I can’t just wear my work boots!”
Festus just yawned from his perch at the top of his cat tree, showing off all thirty of his sharp little teeth. He, unlike Leo, was completely unbothered, which made sense because he wasn’t frantically trying to dress for a date he should have left for fifteen minutes ago, but was also deeply unfair because the whole situation was his stupid fault.
The day had started like every other Friday of the past four years of Leo’s life. He went to meetings, did onsite consultations and ran errands for the shop, meaning that he couldn’t feasibly take Festus to work with him, unlike every other day of the week. So, to make sure that the 22-pound menace of fur and poor life decisions didn’t completely wreck the apartment in a fit of separation anxiety, Festus was taken to kitty daycare. That was fine. Festus loved kitty daycare. He spent the day getting doted on, exploring somewhat unfamiliar territory, playing with brand new toys, and hanging out with his best friend, a Bengal named Supersonic Skystrike. Kitty daycare days were, quite possibly, Festus’s favorite days of the week.
Unfortunately, Festus decided that today of all days hadn’t been a long enough trip to Chloe’s Hangout and Boarding. Today, he decided that when Melody went back to tell him his daddy had arrived to take him home, he was going to pull a jailbreak. Festus wasn’t exactly the fastest cat in the world, but he was solid muscle and had the cognitive abilities of an average toddler and none of the moral restraint, for which toddlers were so well known. He’d twisted his way out of poor, unsuspecting Melody’s grasp, and sent the entire staff on a facility-wide manhunt. Melody had come to the front with tears brimming in her eyes to desperately apologize and assure Leo that while nobody knew where, exactly, his cat was at that moment, the little bastard would be found. She didn’t use the word bastard, but it was heavily implied.
Honestly, if it had been literally any other Friday, it wouldn’t have been a big deal. Leo wasn’t exactly a socialite, so it didn’t matter all that much if he was a bit later than normal getting home. Netflix and his Door Dash both would wait all night if need be. But this wasn’t just any old Friday night. Nooo, Piper had gone and made him plans, she’d set him up on a date. A date with an allegedly handsome man that her girlfriend worked with. Leo was a bit skeptical because the last guy from Reyna’s work he’d been set up with was Octavian and Leo hated that dude. He still went, though, because Piper had asked him to, and despite his better judgement, Piper could get him to do almost anything.
And that was how Leo wound up deciding that he’d just have to forgo his loafers (which he hated anyway, so no real loss there) and hope that the table cloth hid the fact that his steel-toed boots were permanently stained with motor oil.
“I hate you,” Leo informed Festus, scratching him under the chin on his way out the door. He was running late, he knew that, but he also knew that there were some rituals that simply couldn’t be ignored. If he died in some freak accident, he wanted Festus’s last memory of him to be nice. If Leo said mean things while he did it, that was fine because Festus didn’t comprehend English, much less mixed messages. “You’re literally the worst cat in existence.”
Festus yawned again and stretched so hard he fell off his cat tree. Leo immediately decided that was not his problem.
Fortunately, the place Piper picked was only fifteen minutes away making him just under (yikes) a quarter hour late. Leo stepped up to the host stand and awkwardly cleared his throat when the hostess, who was very obviously white-knuckling her way through what was probably the first week of her first ever job, looked at him through a pair of round glasses the size of teacup saucers. “Uh, Valdez, party of two? Or Grace, maybe? I’m not sure what name Piper put it under.”
The hostess frowned down at her pad before suddenly brightening. “Oh, here you are. You got here just in time, we cancel reservations after 15 minutes no call no show.”
Leo startled. “He’s not here yet?”
“Um, let me double check that,” the hostess said quickly, tapping all over her tablet. “Um, uh, no. No one has checked in under that reservation, sir. I’m sorry, I can–”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Leo assured her. “Definitely not your fault, just surprised.”
The hostess paused and looked at him through those big old glasses again. “Do you… still want to be seated?”
Leo considered that for a moment. His gut instinct told him that, no, he shouldn’t be seated. This guy obviously stood him up, and Leo wasn’t in the mood to tolerate that specific brand of disrespect. But considering he’d just shown up himself, that seemed like a wildly hypocritical stance to take and for all of his many, many flaws Leo wasn’t a hypocrite. Usually. Besides, the restaurant was a pretty swanky place, and he’d never go somewhere like it on his own, and he was going to have a stupidly fancy cocktail if it killed him. So he shrugged and gave the hostess an easy grin. “Sure, why not? I always bet on losing dogs.”
The hostess gave him an awkward smile like she wasn’t sure if he was joking or if she was allowed to laugh at him. “Right this way, sir.”
Without a backwards glance, she led him through the dining room, all the way to one of the secluded back areas full of nothing but two-seater tables. Leo hummed and grinned at her. “Sticking me out of sight so you don’t have to feel bad, huh?”
The hostess paled dramatically. “No, sir! This was just– The reservation specifically asked–”
“It’s a joke,” he cut in before she could spiral. “A stupid, bad joke. I just kinda run my mouth when I get nervous, you know? It’s a me thing.”
“Oh, um, alright then.” He sat down and he handed him a menu, then, after a moment’s hesitation placed a second down across from him and offered her own cautious smile. “In case that dog of yours doesn’t actually lose.”
Leo barked out a bright laugh. “Thanks. Hey, before you go, what’s the fanciest cocktail this place has?”
“Oh! Um,” she tapped a finger to her chin. “Well, I’m not old enough to drink–” Leo had figured that much– “but there’s this one thing, it’s called the space mule or something like that and it glows in the dark and changes color because it’s got butterfly peaflower alcohol in it. There’s also a lemonade version I get that I think is pretty cool.”
“Thanks for the recommendation,” he said, not bothering to tell her that he probably wouldn’t touch what she’d suggested with a ten-foot pole because vodka flavored with flowers sounded entirely gross to someone with a taste pallet that belonged in a mechanic’s garage instead of an upscale hipster mixology bar.
The hostess beamed like it was her first time ever being thanked for a recommendation (quite possibly not a wrong guess) and nodded. “Your waiter will be out in just a bit to take your order. Let me know if you need anything!”
Then she turned and practically bounced away, probably congratulating herself on a successful social interaction. Leo could hardly blame her.
Just as promised, Leo’s waiter came out a few moments later, introducing himself while effortlessly pouring a glass of water, setting out a basket of softly steaming rolls, and asking for Leo’s drink order. The waiter’s name was Eduardo, and he seemed at least a few years older than the hostess, so Leo decided to ask him for a cocktail recommendation.
“Well, I don’t drink much, so I can’t give you any personal referrals,” Eduardo said slowly. “But our most popular drink is the Galaxy Mule. It’s made with butterfly peaflower-infused vodka and tonic water, so it changes color and glows under blacklight.”
Leo was internally screaming, but he smiled. “Awesome, I’ll have that to start with.”
Eduardo jotted the order down and snapped his little folio shut with a smile. “Fantastic, I’ll go ahead and put that in. Did you want to start with an appetizer?”
“Ask me again in a few minutes, I was too busy looking at the drinks.”
“Alright then. Let me know if you need anything, sir.”
And with that, Eduardo was gone, leaving Leo alone again with his menus. He was in the process of debating the moral virtues of fried ravioli versus his standard choice of spinach artichoke dip when someone stepped up to the table. He glanced up, expecting to see Eduardo bearing his nightmarish cocktail, but was instead met with the sight of an incredibly handsome man (he took back every bad thought he ever had about Piper’s non-existent taste in men) smiling hesitantly down at him. “Uh, Leo, right?” Leo nodded dumbly, trying to remember how to make his own brain synapses fire. “I’m Jason. Do you…” he glanced at the empty chair and waiting menu, “mind if I sit?”
“Be my guest,” Leo blurted before he could think of something better but fortunately before he could think of something worse.
Jason’s smile grew a little brighter as he sat down, keeping his full attention on Leo. “So, do you have any idea why the hostess said ‘You must be Mr. Valdez’s dog’ when I introduced myself?”
Leo valiantly resisted the urge to hide under the table and just gave Jason a pleasant smile. “Who can say? Kids are kooky. So, I was thinking about getting either the fried ravioli or spinach dip.”
They wound up not getting either of those. Eduardo came back with Leo’s drink (which was way too sweet but didn’t suck quite as bad as he’d imagined it would) and they ordered a plate of caprese bruschetta. This wound up being a phenomenal decision because it was one of the best things Leo had ever eaten, despite just being tomatoes, cheese and basil on white toast.
In fact, the whole night wound up being a phenomenal decision. Leo no longer regretted letting Piper set him up on a blind date and he definitely didn’t regret waiting on said blind date because Jason was one of the best people Leo had ever met despite also being just fancy white toast himself. He was charming in that shy kind of way and he always had something interesting to say without ever acting like he was just waiting on his turn to speak, and he listened to every word that came out of Leo’s mouth like it was the single most important thing to have ever been spoken. Not to mention that he was tall, had a face sculpted by the Greek Muses, and was so buff that Leo was considering calling him up when the shop’s car jack was out of commission. Jason Grace was perfect by all accounts.
All accounts but one.
“I just wanted to apologize again for being late,” Jason said with that puppydog earnestness of his. “Normally I never do stuff like that. Today was just… a mess.”
“Don’t even worry about it,” Leo assured him for the third time. This time, he thought that maybe Jason’s guilt would be easier to bear if the load was shared. “Besides, I totally understand. I was super late, too. I barely beat you here.”
Jason cocked his head to the side. “Really?”
“Really really,” Leo confirmed with a casual shrug. “There was an incident picking the boy up from daycare, and that screwed up my whole schedule.”
Jason went still for only a moment, then his eyes went wide and his whole face lit up. “Piper didn’t tell me you were a dad.”
Leo blinked at him. “Uh, I don’t–”
“I’m a dad, too, don’t worry,” Jason assured him brightly. Then he pulled out his phone and showed a lockscreen of himself and a little girl with dark curls and bright eyes squishing their cheeks together at what looked like a waterpark. “Her name is Sofía and she’s six.”
“Oh, um, that’s really cool,” Leo said, trying very hard not to panic.
Jason looked almost unspeakably happy. “ “Honestly, it’s a relief to know we’re in the same boat. I’ve had a really hard time dating people who don’t get it.”
“Me too,” Leo said, feeling his soul leave through his mouth. He knew he needed to correct the assumption, but Jason looked so overjoyed at the thought of Leo having a son that Leo couldn’t bring himself to do it. “Single dads club.”
Jason chuckled softly and smiled at Leo. “So, your son. Tell me about him?”
“Oh, um,” Leo stammered. His mind was racing a million miles an hour. Usually he was pretty slick when it came to lying and smoothing things over, but in the face of this vision of a man who was smiling like the sun, Leo felt his brain fizzle out and die. “He’s, um, four. His name is Festus.”
That actually managed to give Jason pause and he looked at Leo funny. “Is Festus a nickname?”
“Nope, that’s his real government name,” Leo all but squeaked. “It’s a family name. I know it sounds weird, but it’s sentimental.” That wasn’t a lie, exactly, considering that claiming Hephaestus as his dad was a running joke between him and his mamá and also the source of Fetus’s name.
“That’s cool,” Jason said, swallowing the half-truth pill with ease. “I’ll be honest, I’m kind of glad Sofía’s aged out of daycare. That was a nightmare period of my life. School isn’t necessarily easier, but at least my address tells me where she’s supposed to go.”
“Oh my god, finding the right place for Festus was such a pain in the ass,” Leo groaned. Once again, not a lie. It had taken weeks to find Chloe’s because apparently nobody thought that cats needed to be accommodated for kennels. Hardly any of the pet daycares in town catered to cats, and even fewer were actually specifically geared towards them, rather than just sticking them in a room for the day. “Fortunately, he only goes once a week. The other days he’s with me.”
“Really? You’re a mechanic, right?” Jason asked curiously. “Does he like the shop?”
“Oh, he loves it!” Leo said eagerly. “I practically grew up in my mamá’s shop, took my first steps there and everything, and he’s exactly the same. He’s obsessed with napping on this one particular pile of extension cords. Doesn’t look exactly comfortable to me, but what do I know? I haven’t deliberately taken a nap since I was three.”
“You sound like Sofía,” Jason snorted. “She absolutely can’t stand taking naps, and her favorite part about going to elementary school was ditching nap time.”
“Smart girl,” Leo said with a sage nod. “Day time sleeping is for losers. And also Festus.”
Jason laughed, the sound warm and filling the room, and Leo was thinking that maybe this little lie of his wasn’t the worst idea ever.
As it turned out, talking about Festus in a way that made him sound like a human toddler was remarkably easy. How did potty training go? Some accidents here and there, but he knew where he was supposed to go almost instinctively. Pictures? Leo was always bad at remembering to capture the moment on film and camera flashes spooked Festus. Did he like stuffed animals? Surprisingly, Festus grew bored of toys after about fifteen minutes, but he loved playing in boxes. Did he get along well with others? Festus had a blast hanging out with anything that had a pulse, but he had a best friend at daycare who Leo only knew as Supersonic Skystrike.
More importantly, though, was seeing how much Jason enjoyed talking about Sofía. Jason had been a blast to talk to the whole night, but he just came alive when he was talking about what was clearly the most important thing in his life. Somehow, just by listening to Jason describe her, Leo fell head over heels for this little girl, too.
Sofía stubbornly refused to sleep through the night until she was three years old, unless it was a full moon. Her favorite color was purple this week, but she was planning to change it to orange next week. Her best friend was a little boy named Blaze, and she’d announced that they were getting married on the second day of school, without consulting Blaze. Her favorite animal was the western diamondback rattle snake, followed closely by rainbow angel wolves. She once broke her wrist because she’d been embarrassed about having training wheels on her bike, so she successfully took them off when Jason wasn’t looking, then tripped over the toolbox. She was bright and wonderful and so very, very alive, and Leo thought she was the most wonderful person in the universe, right along with her daddy.
And, hey, maybe if the universe was nice enough to let them just exist at that one restaurant table forever, things would have been different. Maybe Leo could have just kept talking about his “son” while Jason waxed poetic about little Sofía and everything would have been perfectly fine forever and ever. Unfortunately, the world wasn’t nice, and Jason checked his watch (because Jason was the kind of guy who still wore a real mechanical watch, not a smart watch. Leo probably shouldn’t have found that hot, but honestly, he found everything about Jason hot) with a wince.
“I think I’m gonna have to cut this short,” he said apologetically. “My original babysitter canceled on me last minute – that’s why I was late – and the replacement I got said she has to be on her way home by 10:30.”
“Oh,” Leo said, feeling genuine disappointment bubbling in his chest, but he still forced a smile. “Well, I had fun.”
Jason looked relieved, like he genuinely expected Leo to have had a bad time. “Yeah, me, too.”
“Do you think we could maybe do it again?”
Now Jason looked completely baffled, but a hopeful kind of baffled, like he was struggling to recognize that what he was hearing was true but that he really, really wanted it to be. “You mean that?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”
“The kids.” Leo went still for a second, then looked up to see Jason giving him the most serious, soul-piercing stare imaginable. “Leo, I need you to understand something right now before we have even one more conversation about this. Sofía is the single most important thing in my life. I love her more than anything.”
“Yeah, I–” Leo swallowed thickly. “Yeah, Jason, I know that.”
“I need you to understand that no matter how good things get between us, she’s always going to come first,” Jason said firmly. “If she doesn‘t like you or Festus, then this just isn’t going to work.”
The words hung heavy in the air, Leo could practically feel them vibrating in the space between them. Jason was serious, about Sofía, about this relationship, about him, and Leo found that he was serious, too. So he decided to ask the bravest question he’d ever asked. “Does Sofía like cats?”
Jason looked confused for a split second before his expression darkened. “Leo, this isn’t a joke.”
“Good, cuz I’m not joking,” Leo shot back. “This is the single most important deciding factor on if she and Festus are gonna get along. Does she like cats?”
Jason still looked skeptical, but apparently Leo had managed to scrounge up enough good will for Jason to play along. “She’s slightly more of a dog person, but I don’t think she’s ever met a cat she didn’t like.”
“Okay, good, good. That’s, uh, good.” Leo took another deep breath and took the plunge. “Would you maybe like to see a picture of Festus?”
“Sure?”
Leo took out his phone, and with slightly trembling fingers opened it to his home screen, and turned it to face Jason. “Alright. Here’s the boy.”
There was a beat of silence before Jason clucked his tongue. “Leo?”
“Yes?”
“This is a cat.”
“Sure is.” Leo sucked in a sharp breath and let it out. “Festus is a 22-pound ginger tabby who’s too clever for his own goddamn good, but doesn’t understand why his paws get wet when he goes out on the patio when it rains. I spent thirty-four hours designing and building him a whole custom cat infrastructure and he proceeded to sleep in the box I put all the garbage in for a week instead of using it. Before I found him a daycare to go to, he once got into a bag of flour and I had to vacuum for weeks to get the apartment clean. He yodels when he’s happy and in the middle of the night when he wants something and whenever he thinks the world is too quiet. He struts around the garage like he pays rent and I’m pretty sure at least one of my customers is lying about things being wrong with her car just so she can come see him. Festus is a cat and I love him more than anything.”
Jason was silent, watching Leo with an unreadable expression for several agonizing seconds. “You lied to me.”
“Yeah, kinda,” Leo admitted, deflating and picking at his nails. “I just– We were having a great time, and then you misunderstood something I said, but you looked so relieved to talk about your daughter that I didn’t want to ruin that. Then you kept talking and I really liked listening to you go on about her, so I just… kept not correcting you. But I also really, really like you and I didn’t want you to leave here thinking the wrong thing, especially if you’d maybe be interested in seeing me. I didn’t, like, have an angle or something, I really just didn’t know how to stop the conversation until I was knee deep, so I just kept digging.”
Jason just stared at him for a bit. “You’re… insane, I think.”
The last bit of hope that was still clinging to the inside of Leo’s chest withered and died, but he still forced a weak smile. “Yeah. You, uh, wouldn’t be the first person to tell me that.”
“I’m also kind of mad at you.” Leo winced, but didn’t say anything, so Jason continued. “But not as mad as I probably should be.”
Leo went very, very still, hardly daring to breathe. “What?”
“Other than… this, you’ve been the best date I’ve had in years,” Jason confessed. “It’s really, really stupid of me, but I don’t want to give that up over what boils down to a miscommunication. If you’re willing to give this a shot, so am I.”
Leo wasn’t sure if he was going to burst out into tears or song. “Really?”
Jason reached across the table and took Leo’s hand in both of his, seemingly unbothered by Leo’s slightly bloody cuticle. “Really.”
Leo’s heart fluttered helplessly in his chest, doing its best to beat itself black and blue against his rib cage. “Since you warned me about Sofía, I feel like I should warn you, too.” Jason patiently raised an eyebrow at him. “This isn’t a one-off. Like, I’ve never accidentally convinced someone Festus was a human toddler before, but I pretty much constantly live with at least one foot lodged firmly in my mouth. I’m like an event horizon for chaotic neutral fuck ups.”
“Chaotic neutral fuck ups?” Jason echoed with a smile so wide it made his eyes crinkle behind his glasses. “Leo, I raised an actual toddler by myself. I think I can handle it.”
“My mamá raised me as a toddler by herself and she still thinks I’m a mess. She told me so.”
Jason laughed again then looked at Leo with enough sticky-sweet fondness to rot Leo’s teeth out. “I look forward to the challenge.”
Leo smiled back with just as much syrupy affection and leaned forward across the table. “Well, then I look forward to being the challenge.”
Jason leaned the rest of the way over the table and that, in the end, was that.