Dave had to carry John out onto the balcony. Literally carry. Next to me, James looked swamped and worried about John. He started to get up to follow the teens, but I pulled him back down.

"Don worry. Dave'll take care o him." I said softly. He nodded and relaxed, slightly closer to me.

"So, your accent is very thick." He says, focusing on the floor. I blinked behind my shades.

"Well it oughta be. I've lived here ma whole life. My ol man twanged way worse than me though." I said, laughing as I remembered him cussing me out in that twang when I came out.

"I see." He said softly.

"What? Ya don like it?" I ask, resting my elbows against my knees, twinging my fingers together.

"N-no! It's very nice." His face is a dark shade of red. He jumped when I moved to touch his forehead.

"Ey, ya alright James? Ya look like a whore in church." I say, feeling how hot his head was. He sat ramrod straight as I said that but his whole position changed when I made him look at me.

"I-I'm fine." He said, leaning away from me slightly. I nodded, noting how cute he looked when he stuttered. We sat in silence for a bit. "So, how exactly did you aquire Dave? Were you married or...?" He let the question die off.

I smiled and relaxed againt the couch. "Well, when he was a lil shit, Dave's mama left him at an orphanage near where I worked at the time." I tipped my hat down out of habit. "I didn't know her any, but when I saw lil man the first time, I kinda fell in love." I laughed. "So, I wen through the adoption process and he was with me by his first birthday."

James was listening intently. "What about you and John?" I ask. "I don know much about ya, ya know?" He looks at me for a moment before his gaze falls to his feet.

"I was married to a lovely woman named Jessica. She was amazing and she even gave me John before she became very sick and passed away." He said, obviously not wanting to say more about it.

So I put my hand on his shoulder. I felt him shaking. "It's okay. Ya don gotta talk about it if ya don wanna." I say softly. A couple tears fall onto his shiny shoes and he wipes his face roughly.

That stabbed me, so I pulled him into a hug. He clung to me and I felt his heart racing like a scared rabbit. I rubbed his back gently until he calmed down.

Once he'd stopped crying, he took a deep breath and looked at me. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks were red. "I-I'm sorry." He said, tryng to pull away. I let him, but kept my hand on his shoulder.

He obviously needed that. It looked like he'd never let himself cry about his late wife. And holding it in wasn't a good thing. "You really needed that, huh?" He looked up, his eyes shocked. "Feel better?"

"Y-yeah, actually." He said, touching his cheek lightly. I smiled and stood up.

"I'll got get the boys and we'll get dinner, yeah? It's gettin late." He looked at the clock on the wall. It was nearly seven in the afternoon. But it only felt like five to him and to John, probably.

Time changes can be confusing. He nodded and I started off toward the balcony.