Chapter Nineteen
Good Answer
“That’s it, baby!” Alyssa shrieked at Junior fighting in the ring. “Mess him up! You know mama likes it like that!”
I grinned at my lap before looking back up to the action.
We were at the arena in Blakeley for the adult league matches and Junior’s opponent this time was a fair sight less talented than he was.
Bryant and Ethan were sitting in the aisle with us, both of whom had bags of Halloween candy they’d brought with them for treats. I was monitoring their consumption as I wanted to see Jake fight, not be in the bathroom with Ethan vomiting. That was unpleasant enough the first time for me to take pains not to let it happen again.
This was difficult as Halloween had been just two nights before and Ethan, Bryant and Joshua had pulled in large hauls, putting a fair amount of effort into it by traipsing from house to house in their Combat Raptor costumes, followed by Jake and me, Jake carrying a flashlight.
We’d hit four neighborhoods. Four large neighborhoods.
Therefore, by the time we were done, I was exhausted. I had just enough in me when we got back to Jake’s to tell Ethan to go easy on his consumption, eat a handful of pumpkin seeds (which were, I found, addicting) and go to bed.
We had a vast amount of seeds because, a few days before Halloween, we’d carved five pumpkins, one for each of us, and put them around Jake’s front door. I was surprised to see in their teenaged coolness that even Conner and Amber got into the carving process.
Then again, I’d learned it was a family tradition that they never missed and enjoyed greatly. I knew this because I found it was highly enjoyable.
I knew it more when Amber declared, “Even when I’m married and have kids of my own, we’re coming to Dad’s to carve pumpkins.”
The “when I’m married and have kids” comment made Jake’s mouth go tight, this making me fight a grin. But in the end, Amber’s sentiment was very sweet and after experiencing pumpkin carving at the Spear household, I understood why she felt this way.
By the way, Jake was a master pumpkin carver. I knew this because he helped Ethan freehand carve a Combat Raptor pumpkin that, if there were such contests, would win an award. I was sure of it.
Conner, Amber and Alexi stayed behind to hand out candy at Jake’s (this Jake arranged, with Conner being a vaguely disguised chaperone) while we took Ethan out.
When we got back, I asked Conner to keep an eye on his brother’s candy consumption and went to bed without Jake for the first time since we started sharing one. Which was to say, unless Jake was at the club, Jake and I went to bed together every night since we started sharing a bed.
Jake joined me later, waking me as he pulled me in his arms and I fell right back to sleep hearing him mutter, “Next year, you’re gonna stay home and hand out candy so you don’t pass out after walkin’ twenty miles watchin’ Ethan get his haul.”
I was just happy there would be a next year.
This was why, I fell right back to sleep.
It was not lost on me that I had sat beside the runways of the most lauded designers of our time. I had traveled to five continents and done it repeatedly. I knew the best place to buy croissant in Paris. I’d eaten pizza at the Antica Pizzeria Port’Alba in Naples. I’d sunbathed on Bondi Beach in Australia. And I’d slept in an actual igloo in Alaska.
But carving pumpkins and roasting pumpkin seeds in Jake’s kitchen were the most fabulous thing I’d ever done.
Bar none.
On this thought, with senses attuned from taking care of two eight year old boys who’d evacuated their stomachs due to overindulgence, even over Alyssa’s shouting and a rabid fighting crowd, I heard a candy wrapper. I looked down to see Ethan opening up a fun-size Snickers.
I leaned into him and said in his ear, “Honey, I know you like your treats but I suspect you’d prefer to ingest that and not re-experience it later, hanging over a toilet bowl. So let’s make that the last one tonight, hmm?”
I pulled slightly away and caught his eyes. They were looking in mine and Eath (such a wonderful child) nodded.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” I said.
He chewed, swallowed and grinned a chocolate, peanut, caramel and nougat grin.
I grinned back.
At this point, Alyssa shot out of her chair, jumped up and down on her strappy, high-heeled sandals and started screeching, “That’s right, baby! Get in there. Don’t let up! Take him down!”
I allowed myself to admire her attractive, albeit brief and tight, red dress before I looked to the ring to see Junior had his opponent up against the ropes and was landing a succession of combinations that his competitor was having difficulties defending against.
Alas, the referee pushed them apart and moved in to assess the condition of Junior’s challenger. The man shook his head side to side to clear it then looked the referee in the eyes and nodded.
The referee let them loose again.
“Stupid ref,” Alyssa groused, plonking herself down in the seat beside me, her eyes never leaving the ring.
The bell rang and since it was only the second round, we had another one to go before Alyssa again shot from her seat, lost her mind, shrieking, clapping and jumping up and down when the referee lifted Junior’s hand.
He smiled down at his wife.
She blew him a kiss that was so exaggerated she came off her feet when she swung her arm wide. Then she turned instantly to the seat, snatched up her purse and coat and her eyes came to me.
She leaned into me and said low, “Right, Operation Tag Team commence. You got Bryant. I get home with my man and get laid. You text when Jake’s done, drop Eath and Bry at our place so you can get laid. Yeah?”
I nodded, enjoying the happy light in my friend’s eyes and trying to ignore the happier feeling between my legs considering what was to come for me.
“Yes,” I agreed.
She lifted her fist, knuckles facing me, something Conner had taught me about a week ago was a “fist bump.” He did this after he did the same to me and I stared at his hand nonplussed for half a minute before he showed me what to do.
Thus, I knew what to do, bumped my fist against hers, and she breathed, “I love fight night.”
I giggled as I encouraged, “Go.”
I needed to give her no further encouragement. She dashed to her son, grabbed either side of her face, gave him a loud kiss right on the mouth, which made him shout, “Euw, Mom!”
She then tousled his hair, looked to Ethan and said, “Later, buddy.”
“Later, Mrs. Harper,” Ethan replied.
Alyssa gave me a finger wave and took off down the aisle.
“Can we get popcorn?” Bryant asked and I looked to him.
“Think hard about your stomach, the fullness of it, the possibility if more was introduced that it may need to purge some to fit the rest and then tell me if you really want popcorn,” I stated.
“What’s purge mean?” he asked.
“Evacuate,” I answered and he grinned.
“What’s evacuate mean?” he asked.
At that, I grinned.
“Empty,” I answered.
“You talk so freakin’ cool,” he replied. “Weird. But cool.”
“Indeed. And you will find, young Bryant, as you grow older that things that are normal are just normal. Anyone can be normal. Thus it’s my experience that most things that are weird are cool.”
“So you sayin’ we should try to be weird, Josie?” Ethan asked, a teasing glint in his eye.
“I’m saying that you shouldn’t try to be anything. You should be you and however you are will be cool unless however that is, is you trying to be like everyone else, which is just normal, which is not cool,” I answered.
“Well, I’ve decided to be a con artist turned FBI consultant like that dude in White Collar. Is that weird and cool enough for you?” Ethan shared his latest plans for his future, that teasing glint still in his eye.
This was a program that Ethan had recently discovered on Netflix. I knew this because he not only told me but he also talked about it all the time. And watched it all the time. And as I was with him a fair amount of that time, I watched it too.
It was an excellent program.
However, a life goal to be a con artist, even a stylish and intelligent one who had a definite flair with wearing a fedora, such as “the dude on White Collar,” was not optimal.
“If you skip past the con artist part, and simply aim to be an FBI agent, yes,” I answered.
He shook his head but did it grinning.
I looked to Bryant and prompted, “Your popcorn assessment?”
“I’m thinkin’ I wanna keep those fifteen Kit Kats in my stomach, Ms. Malone,” Bryant replied.
“Good choice,” I murmured.
We settled in, me examining the crowd, the boys jabbering to each other. We then watched the next fight, Mickey’s, the boys encouraging him rather boisterously to win, and although I didn’t shout, I did clap when Mickey’s arm was lifted.
It was after that I started to get excited.
Because Mickey’s victory heralded the last fight of the night.
Jake’s fight.
As the delay between fights began to feel incessant, I started fidgeting. But when the announcer introduced the fighters, like everyone else, I came out of my seat, clapping, but doing it on legs that were trembling.
I felt my mouth go dry when I saw Jake coming down the aisle. I then felt my heart swell when he stopped at our row, put a gloved hand to Bryant’s head, then Ethan’s.
And I found it took everything to remain standing when his eyes came to me. They heated instantly before they swept me from top to toe. They came back to my face and they were even more heated which made it even more difficult to remain standing.
I had, of course, tricked myself out.
This being that I had my hair down but curled so there seemed more of it.
Much more.
And I had a midnight blue dress on, high collar and halter, which left my shoulders and back totally bare. The dress was almost blousy at the bust but clung rather alluringly everywhere else. It had a slit up the front and came to just below the knee. And last, the midnight blue had an almost elusive wave of burnished silver through it so I also had on my delicate, very strappy and very high-heeled silver sandals.
It would seem Jake appreciated my efforts.
Very much so.
And I appreciated his appreciation.
Very much so.
Finally, he released my eyes, which he was holding captive, and went to the ring.
I thankfully sank into my seat.
But the fidgeting had not stopped.
No, because shortly after, the fight started.
Jake did not knock his opponent out in the first round this time. It went all three. Which was sheer torture for I was very ready for it to be over when it was finally over since watching Jake fight meant I was ready for it to be over about one minute into round one.
But one could not say that watching him box, the brute force, the focus, his muscles moving, his body shifting, his utter command of not only the fight, not only the ring, but the entire arena, was a sight to behold.
Even so, I was beyond thrilled when his hand was lifted at the end. I again rose from my seat, shooting from it this time, clapping fast and hard, smiling wide.
Jake gave the boys a smile and me a wink as he walked back up the aisle and hurriedly I turned to Ethan and Bryant.
“All right, boys. Get your things. Check around to make sure you didn’t forget anything. Let’s go,” I urged.
They did as told. I slid on my coat and grabbed my bag. When we were ready, I herded them up the aisle and to the door to the locker rooms.
The same security man was there and he smiled at me when I approached with the boys.
“Same room, babe,” he told me.
I nodded and ushered the boys through the door. We hurried down the hall to Jake’s door but this time, I knocked.
“Yo!” we heard from the other side.
Ethan charged in, followed by Bryant, and I came up the rear.
I felt a rush of wet between my legs when I saw Jake in the same position as last time, sitting on the table in his trunks, his friend and trainer, Bert, standing in front of him.
“Dad! You killed it!” Ethan shouted, rushing up to his father to give him a hug.
Jake jumped off the table to get it and hugged him back. When they separated, he looked down to his son. “Like that?”
“Heck yeah!” Ethan yelled.
“You’re the master, Mr. Spear,” Bryant told him.
“Thanks, Bry,” Jake murmured on a grin to Bryant then he came to me.
He got close, slid an arm around my waist and put his mouth to my ear.
“Love my kid, babe, you know it. But get him and his bud in the car, dump them on Alyssa and meet me at your place. Fast.”
He had his gloves off but, as I mentioned, he was still only in his trunks. Thus, as he was speaking, I had a view of his shoulder, which, when he leaned back, became a view of his slick chest.
My eyes lifted to his, and suddenly incapable of speech, I nodded.
His eyes dropped to my dress then came back to my face.
“Fast,” he ordered, his voice low.
“Okay, darling,” I forced out.
He dropped his arm and moved away. I turned my eyes to Bert.
“Hello, Bert,” I greeted.
“Good to see you, Josie,” he replied.
I felt that did well enough for the niceties so I clapped my hands and said, “Right, boys. Let’s go. Time to hit the Cayenne.”
Ethan looked to me. “I dig the Cayenne, Josie, but we wanna ride with Dad.”
“Got stuff to do here, bud. It’s gettin’ late. Go with Josie,” Jake replied.
“But—” Ethan started.
“Bud. Josie,” Jake stated firmly.
Ethan held his eyes then looked to his feet and muttered, “All right.”
I put a hand to Ethan’s shoulder and started herding him and Bryant again, calling my farewell, “I’ll see you at the gym sometime, Bert.”
“Yeah, Josie,” Bert replied.
I looked to Jake. “Later, darling.”
He looked to me and firmly in a way that was not a farewell but a promise, he said, “Later.”
That got a thigh quiver that was very strong so I had to force myself to focus on getting the boys to my car.
I texted Alyssa after I started up the Cayenne and then I took the boys to her house.
Alyssa, in a robe with very mussed hair, answered the door and accepted delivery, but she did this with a sated smile and a lascivious wink.
I winked back (mine probably not lascivious), moved quickly back to my car and drove carefully, but swiftly, to Lavender House.
Jake’s truck was in the lane and I could see lights coming from the windows at either side of the front door.
I got out of the Cayenne and hurried to door.
It opened before I got there.
Seeing it open, in my excitement, I stumbled, but Jake’s arm shot out and caught me around the waist, pulling me forward so I collided with his body. He kept me pressed there as he dragged me into the house, slammed the door and locked it. He then shifted me to the side and pressed me against the wall.
Oh my.
I tilted my head back just in time, for the instant I did, his lips were against mine.
His hands came to my coat and yanked it down my arms.
I dropped my bag and the coat fell to the floor.
“Panties, babe.”
A shiver slid through my entire body.
Jake helped, yanking up my skirt.
I pulled down my panties and they dropped to my ankles.
Jake lifted me free from them and pressed me against the wall at the same time his lips against mine opened.
Sliding my arms around his shoulders, curling my legs around his hips, I reciprocated the gesture and his tongue slid inside.
Having waited for what seemed like years since he walked down the aisle of the arena in his boxing robe, I was so ready for the taste of him, when I got it, I whimpered into his mouth.
One of his hands left my behind and slid through the damp between my legs.
When it did, his lips glided to my ear and his fingers slid from between my legs to go to his training pants.
“My woman gets off on watchin’ her man fight,” he murmured in my ear.
“Yes,” I whispered.
I felt the tip of him, caught my breath, and then he was inside.
“Yes,” I breathed.
“So wet,” he groaned.
“Yes.”
“F*ck yes.”
I held on as Jake pounded inside me, running my nose along his jaw, my lips along his neck, my tongue around his ear.
Jake grunted.
I whimpered.
Jake clenched his fingers into the cheek of my bottom, tilting my hips and he thrust harder.
I moaned.
Jake caught my mouth with his and kissed me rough and deep.
I curled my legs tighter around his hips, slid a hand in his hair and wrapped the other one around the back of his neck, gripping hard.
Jake drove in faster.
It built and I knew it was going to explode so I broke our kiss and whispered against his lips, “Darling.”
“Yeah.”
“Jake.”
“F*ck yeah, baby.”
My lips parted, and as the deliciousness of the orgasm he gave me overwhelmed me, I felt his tongue trace my bottom lip, this making it all the more delicious.
Then his tongue was back inside as he slammed into me, pounding me into the wall.
I kept holding him close, clenching him tight with everything I had, feeling everything he gave me, everything he was giving me, loving every sensation, until he broke the kiss, shoved his face in my neck and thrust deep through a long, beautiful groan.
He held me against the wall, keeping me close, stayed inside as he breathed heavily against my neck and I held on.
Finally, I turned my lips to his ear and whispered, “I love fight night.”
At hearing that, Jake lifted his head, caught my eyes, his still heated, but satiated and happy, his most beautiful look of all, and he smiled.
* * * * *
“She was bullied.”
It was the next morning and I was pushing a cart through the grocery store, Amber at my side. We were preparing for the feeding frenzy that was Sunday in front of football.
And we were talking about Conner’s still unsuccessful, but thankfully undeterred, pursuit of Sofie.
However, this had gone on so long I was getting concerned.
Sofie liked Conner that was clear. Conner liked Sofie and that was abundantly clear because he was pulling out all the stops to make it that way. Alyssa was all for the duo and she’d been making that clear. Junior was not all for it, but like Jake, he was resigned to the fact his daughter would eventually date.
Further, Alyssa told me Junior was beginning to get concerned that she was sixteen and had never been out with a boy. Although Conner had a reputation, he was Jake’s son. Junior knew him to be as a seventeen year-old boy with a girl in his sights, but he also knew Jake and Conner very well. Therefore, unlike the dire predictions when we first became aware that Conner was interested in Junior’s daughter, even if he wasn’t all for it, he wasn’t avidly opposing it.
So, in the end, the only obstacle to Sofie and Conner being a Sofie and Conner was Sofie.
And thus, Alyssa was getting concerned. As was I.
I stopped pushing the cart and looked down to Amber. “Pardon?”
“Sof,” Amber replied. “Back in Junior High, she was bullied and it was pretty bad.”
I stared at her, not believing this.
Sofie was very sweet, very pretty, quite intelligent, had a lovely figure and a sense of style that was cute and girlie and very becoming.
She also, apparently, had great talent as a singer. I was much looking forward to the high school Christmas concert during which she was to have two solos. This was unheard of as Alyssa told me the choir director tried to hand out solos with a fair hand in order to give as many of his students as possible the opportunity to shine.
But Sofie was that good.
What on earth was there to bully her about?
“How was Sofie bullied?” I asked and Amber shrugged.
“It was Mia and her crew,” she answered and I felt my mouth get tight at the mention of Mia. “Everyone knows Mia for the bitch she is now, and sorry Josie, but no other way to say it. Mia’s a bitch.”
As much as it pained me to agree on this fact about a high school girl, I couldn’t help but do it. Though I decided to do it silently by not rebuking Amber for her language.
Amber kept speaking.
“But Mia was top dog and had been a long time before what happened with Con. And Sofie is really cute. Back then, all the guys were waking up to girls and they way woke up to Sofie. Mia didn’t like that.”
“Indeed,” I said, suspecting this to be very true.
“But it was more,’ Amber went on. “Mr. Harper was out of work and money was tight and Mia’s dad’s got a good job so they have a nice house and she had all the cool clothes and Sofie…” She shook her head. “Well, they didn’t have a lot and she wore that fact on her body. Mia made fun of her ‘cause she got her clothes at TJ Maxx and stuff. It sounds stupid. TJ Maxx stuff is great and I find a lot of cool things there. But that kind of thing, especially the way Mia and her girls ganged up on her, can really hurt.”
It most certainly could.
“Is that when she became shy?” I queried.
Amber screwed her mouth up for a moment, thinking on this, and then said, “She was always quiet but yeah. That’s when it got worse.”
“Does Conner know this?” I continued.
“He’s a grade ahead of her in school and a guy so I’m guessing he didn’t pay a lot of attention back then to how Mia targeted her prey and shredded them. If he did, he wouldn’t have asked Mia out. Con’s not big on that crap.”
This was also likely true.
“Anyway,” she carried on. “By then, it was ancient history, except for Sofie.”
“Hmm,” I mumbled, turning my attention back to the cart and moving it along, wondering how this information could be imparted not only on Conner so that he could revise his strategy, but on Alyssa so that she could see to her daughter’s state of mind.
Suddenly, something occurred to me and I stopped.
I looked back to Amber and asked quietly, “Did Mia bully you?”
She held my eyes, shook her head and said, “No. Seein’ as Con’s my brother and she always had her sights set on him like all the girls do. She knew she shouldn’t do that because we Spears might fight amongst ourselves but no one outside hands us any crap.”
At least this was good.
But…
“Did anyone else bully you?” I pressed gently.
“Kids can suck,” she said by way of affirmative.
“Honey,” I whispered, now understanding her attitude when we first met.
“It’s not like that anymore,” she told me, beginning to look uncomfortable.
I didn’t want her to be uncomfortable but I couldn’t quite leave the topic.
Not yet.
I had one more thing to say.
And I got close to say it, reaching out my hand to take hers and hold tight.
“If something like that ever happens again, or you have anything that’s preying on your mind that you wish to discuss, I’m here. If it’s a danger to you emotionally, I may need to speak with you about sharing it with your father. But if it’s girl things and you need to talk with someone who has moved beyond it and survived, please consider talking about it with me.”
She was staring into my eyes, hers looking somewhat startled but amidst that there was something profoundly beautiful in the way she was gazing at me. Something I was memorizing, it was just that precious. And as I was memorizing it, a voice we both knew very well came our way.
“Uh, can I talk to my daughter?”
I tensed.
Amber tensed.
And both of us looked to Donna.
Donna was looking at our clasped hands.
Oh dear.
I was deciding to drive the extra half an hour to the grocery store in Wells to avoid running into Donna when Donna shifted her gaze to me and asked, “Do you mind?”
“I don’t but it’s up to Amber,” I replied, my heart beating harder in my chest as I felt Amber’s hand curl tighter around mine.
“Nothing to say,” Amber put in and Donna looked to her daughter.
“Just two seconds, sweetie, please?” Donna asked.
“No,” Amber answered.
Donna sidled closer. “You aren’t taking my calls and I have something important to tell you.”
“I’m not taking your calls because I don’t need to,” Amber returned. “See, I figure, I haven’t had a mom in a long time, like, you know, she’s been dead or something. So, I figure, when Dad marries Josie, she can just adopt me legal-like and then I’ll get a real mom. You know, like I never had.”
This attack was so brutal, the blow landing full force, I could see the impact on Donna’s face.
Thus, I squeezed her hand and whispered, “Amber.”
She let me go, pushed in front of me and grabbed the cart, shoving it forward. “We gotta get this done or Eath is gonna have a tizzy. His breakfast probably wore off an hour ago.”
This was surely the truth but as much as I didn’t enjoy being in Donna’s company, or Amber being in it when she didn’t like it, I couldn’t leave it where it was.
“I think perhaps we should all go get a coffee,” I suggested.
Amber stopped and looked back at me, her face set, her eyes flashing. “No freaking way.”
“That’s okay,” Donna’s voice was a squeak and when I looked to her I knew this was due to her struggling to hold back her emotion. “I’ll, uh…I’ll just…” she trailed off, looking around and I knew she was going to flee.
Which meant then she was going to flee.
I turned my gaze to Amber. “Sweetheart, take care of the list. I’m going to have a word with your mother. I’ll meet you at the checkout.”
“Works for me,” Amber said readily and sauntered off, pushing the cart like she didn’t have a care in the world.
I looked back to Donna and invited, “Perhaps we should go outside.”
She stared at me and I knew she wanted to say no. But it was obvious she was so wounded she could do nothing but nod.
We moved outside the store and down the walk in front of it to be away from the doors.
Only then did I speak.
“Are you leaving Magdalene?” I asked.
She blinked.
“It is a small town, Donna,” I reminded her.
“I…well…Anderson offered me a raise to get me to stay but there’s a job in Boston that pays more and—”
I cut her off. “You cannot leave town.”
She stared at me.
“Jake doesn’t want you to leave,” I shared and her mouth dropped open. “He wants the mother of his children to be a mother to his children. Although it probably matters not to you, I don’t wish for you to leave either, for the same reason. Your children, alas, likely won’t let it show that they care one way or another. But I can assure you, what they let show and what they feel will not be the same things. You have essentially abandoned them. If you do this in an official capacity, it will wound them in a way they will never forget their whole lives and that way will be a way where it will never heal.”
“But she hates me,” Donna whispered.
“She has a right to that emotion,” I told her truthfully. “And you have the capacity to turn that emotion around. She’s angry and it will not be an easy fight. But it’ll be worth every blow she lands in order to succeed.”
She shook her head before she asked, “How do I even start to do that?”
“You start by taking that raise and not leaving town,” I answered. “Then you start by just starting.”
“People think—” she began.
“Your ex-husband runs a gentleman’s club to provide for his family,” I interrupted her to point out. “Do you think it matters what people think when it comes to your children?”
She shut her mouth.
“Call her and ask her if she’d like to go shopping. If she refuses, ask her to a movie. Call Conner and ask him to dinner and request he brings his sister. If they refuse, keep calling. Text to let them know you’re thinking of them. Ask them to spend the night at your house. Buy them things to bribe them into paying at least scant attention to you. It doesn’t matter what you do, what tactic you use, you’re fighting to win back your children. Do it. Use it. Grovel. Beg. Apologize. Show them every way you can think of that they mean something to you. I cannot guarantee that any of that will break through. The only thing I know is that they’re worth the effort.”
“Do you have kids of your own?” she asked and I couldn’t help but feel the sting of the question even though, from the look on her face, it wasn’t meant to bite.
“No.”
“Then how do you—?”
“Because my mother left me to a monster,” I told her bluntly and watched her eyes grow wide. “She saved herself and never looked back. I haven’t heard a word from her in thirty-five years. But I not only needed her to protect me from my father, I just needed her.”
She pressed her lips together and the way she did, I decided I’d done all I could do.
Therefore, I said, “The decision is yours. But I hope you make the right one. Have a lovely Sunday, Donna.”
I turned and started to walk away but I heard her call my name so I turned back.
Donna asked the instant I did, “Is Lucky Brand still her favorite store?”
Relief swept through me and I nodded, adding a, “Yes, Donna. It is. She also finds things she likes at Anthropologie. Further, she often finds things at Buckle.”
Donna nodded quickly.
I held her eyes and said with feeling, “Good luck, Donna.”
Her voice was hesitant and croaky when she replied, “Thank you, Josie.”
She gave me a wave I didn’t return for she’d turned and started walking away.
I found Amber standing in the checkout line.
The instant I stopped close, she asked, “Did you tell her to vanish?”
“No, my lovely, I did not,” I said gently.
“She doesn’t give a crap about us, Josie.”
“We shall see.”
She turned a set face to the line, doing it murmuring, “Yeah, we will.”
I sighed.
Amber was quiet all the way to Jake’s and after she helped me get the bags in, she went directly to and up the stairs, undoubtedly seeking the sanctuary of her room.
This meant she was calling one of the Taylors or Alexi, who was, according to boy Taylor, a good listener.
Alas, I also knew from boy Taylor that he was a good kisser.
I was glad to know the first.
I wished I did not know the last.
“What gives with that?” Jake asked from close to my back.
I turned and looked up at him. “Are the boys involved with the game?”
“Oh shit,” he said as his reply.
I put a hand to his chest. “Are the boys involved with the game, darling?”
“Yeah,” he answered, watching me closely.
“Then I’ll share in the kitchen.”
This I did while emptying a bag of Ruffles in a bowl and watching with some interest mingled with trepidation as Jake spooned an entire container of sour cream into another bowl before he emptied a packet of instant soup into it and stirred it to blend.
When I was done telling my tale of grocery store woe, he didn’t look happy, he didn’t look angry.
He just looked concerned.
“We gotta keep our eye on that,” he told me.
“Agreed,” I replied. Then to take his mind off this, I asked, “What’s in that bowl?”
His eyes came to me. “Onion dip.”
I pressed my lips together.
He grinned before saying, “You’re gonna love it, babe.”
“Is there anything you serve your children that isn’t mixed from an envelope, unearthed from a box or heated from a jar?”
“Yeah. When you cook.”
I rolled my eyes.
By the time I rolled them back, Jake had his fingers wrapped around the side of my neck and the bowl in his other hand.
“Ethan’s bitchin’, need to feed my boy,” he told me.
“Then let’s not delay in going to the family room so you can continue your quest to preserve your children’s bodies through chemicals.”
Jake burst out laughing.
I allowed myself a moment to watch, my lips curved up, then I grabbed the bowl of chips.
* * * * *