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“I’m beginning to get worried.”
Mingjue looks up from the pile of shoes he is straightening in the entryway, one of Jingyi’s new trainers in hand. “About what, my heart?”
Jiang Cheng gestures down the hall to Jingyi’s bedroom door. It’s closed, as it has been for the last few months. A hastily scrawled message declaring it to be a Danger Zone is tacked to the door.
“I don’t think I’ve seen him for more than a few minutes at breakfast and when he gets home from school in at least a week.”
“I hear him scrounging around in the kitchen sometimes in the middle of the night,” Mingjue says as he tucks the trainers under the shoe rack. They’re too large for the shelves these days. “And he’s showering, if the wet towels I find on the floor of the bathroom every morning are anything to go by. So at least he’s clean and fed?”
“I guess,” Jiang Cheng says with a sigh. “He just used to love talking about his day. I’ve missed it. You don’t think he’s sick, do you?”
Mingjue laughs gently. “No, love, I don’t think he’s sick.”
“Then what is it?”
Jiang Cheng holds up a hand to forestall Mingjue’s answer when the buzzer on the dryer goes off, indicating the end of the cycle. He picks up the laundry basket at his feet and goes into the laundry room, filling the basket with warm, sweet-smelling clothes and joins Mingjue in the living room. Mingjue snags the fitted sheets, expertly slotting the corners together and folding them into smooth packets.
“Don’t you remember being fifteen, A-Cheng?” Mingjue stacks the folded sheets on the sofa and goes for the duvet covers next. “I don’t think Huaisang said more than ten words to me, unless he was shouting at me about how miserable his life was. He spent the rest of his time in his room.”
“Do you think my mother would have let me hide away in my room?” Jiang Cheng asks as he starts to pair up socks and roll them into tight little balls.
“Hah, fair enough.” Mingjue sits on the sofa and clears a spot for Jiang Cheng. “I think he’s just going through a growth spurt,” he says as Jiang Cheng leans against him. “The milk I bought yesterday is almost gone.”
“Do you think we should take him to his pediatrician?”
Mingjue wraps an arm around Jiang Cheng’s shoulders and kisses his temple. “It couldn’t hurt. We’ll check in with him tomorrow and—“
They startle as Jingyi’s door opens with a thwack as it hits the wall.
“Kiddo?”
“Mmmm.” They get nothing more, but after a moment, they hear the shuffling of slippers along the carpet, the slam of the bathroom door, and the hiss of the shower.
“He liiiiives,” whispers Mingjue.
“Stop,” Jiang Cheng scolds as he elbows Mingjue in the side.
“Relax, A-Cheng. I’m teasing.”
Jiang Cheng turns to Mingjue. “I know. But, I just, I don’t want to make him feel bad, even accidentally.”
“Hey.” Mingjue strokes Jiang Cheng’s arm and gives him a quick kiss. “Okay. You’re right. I’m sorry.” He pulls Jiang Cheng to his side again. “I’ll put the laundry away. You see if Jingyi wants to order chicken for dinner tonight, okay?”
“I’m overreacting,” Jiang Cheng says, shifting so he can look at Mingjue.
“No, you’re not,” Mingjue is quick to assure him. “I think we’re having growing pains as well.”
Jiang Cheng is about to argue when Jingyi pokes his head in. He’s bleary eyed and pale, and he mutters, “You talking about me?”
“Yeah,” Mingjue says. He scoots aside and holds his arms out. Jingyi drags his feet and flops onto the sofa between him and Jiang Cheng. “How’re you feeling, buddy?”
“Tired,” Jingyi groans into Jiang Cheng’s shoulder. “Hurty.” He blinks up at Jiang Cheng. “Hungry.”
Jiang Cheng puts an arm around Jingyi’s shoulders. “You feel like waiting for some Tanaka’s delivery?”
Jingyi heaves a deep and weary sigh. “I guess.”
“Good lad,” Mingjue says. He gets up and kisses his husband and son on the forehead. “I’ll put the laundry away later. A-Cheng, do you want the gyoza tonight?”
“And extra edamame.”
“You got it.”
The moment Mingjue’s out of the room, Jingyi curls against Jiang Cheng and bursts into tears.
“Hey! Hey, what happened? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know!” Jingyi sobs. “Everything! Everything feels wrong!”
Jiang Cheng holds Jingyi close and lets him cry. He pats his back and murmurs soothing nonsense until, as quickly as they started, Jingyi’s tears dry. He rubs his face against Jiang Cheng’s shirt and is about to say something when his stomach growls like a bear. It startles a laugh from them both.
Jiang Cheng kisses Jingyi’s cheek. “Go wash your face and I’ll peel some oranges to tide you over until the chicken gets here.”
“Ugh, fine.” Jingyi hauls himself upright and holds a hand out to Jiang Cheng. Jiang Cheng is shocked to find that he can now meet Jingyi’s eye. But before he can spiral and wonder where his little(er) boy has gone, Jingyi flops forward and hugs him. “Thanks, Dad.”
Jiang Cheng pats Jingyi’s back. “You’re welcome, kiddo.”
Jingyi ambles back to the bathroom, and the moment the door closes, Jiang Cheng runs to the kitchen and throws himself into Mingjue’s embrace.
“Our baby is gone,” Jiang Cheng groans.
Mingjue laughs and kisses him. “To be fair, he wasn’t all that small when we got him.”
“Shut up! I’m serious!”
“I know, babe, I know. I’m sorry. It’ll be okay.”
“Just wait ‘til he grows a mustache,” Jiang Cheng mutters darkly. “Then you’ll see.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. In the meantime, the food’ll be here soon, there’s a new episode of Forged in Fire to watch, and for the time being, we’ll all still fit on the sofa. Okay?”
Jiang Cheng sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “okay.”
It’ll be okay. Their Jingyi is growing up, but he and Mingjue will be there for him, every lumbering step of the way.