And me, if I was their mother, I would throw every bottle of booze I had into the sea and do everything I could to show these two amazing beings how proud I was to say they belonged to me.
So it wasn’t only me who was disappointed when I had to tell the kids to say good-bye so I could walk them out front to wait for their father. It was also the residents, who rarely had visitors, and rarer still those visitors were of the young variety.
We got outside to find Mickey was already there, parked out front and leaning against the side of his big SUV, wearing what he was wearing earlier (except now they were dusty), clothes I suspected were his construction clothes as they included construction boots, faded jeans and a snug fitting tee.
Even that outfit he made amazing.
“We’re so doing that again, Dad,” Cillian cried, rushing to his father.
Mickey pushed away from his truck, smiling at his son. “You liked it, boy, I’m so letting you.”
“Cool!” Cillian yelled, turned to me and waved. “Later, Amy.”
“Later, honey,” I called.
“Yeah, later, Amy,” Aisling, at my side, said softly.
I turned to her and lifted a hand to curl it light on her upper arm. “Later, blossom. Thanks for being so lovely.”
She shrugged a shoulder, her head tipping that way, this gesture causing me to feel what was becoming familiar unease when it came to Aisling, before I had to let her go because she meandered to her dad’s truck.
Mickey walked to me.
I looked up at him and braced.
I braced more, tipping my head far back when he got closer than was necessary.
“Seems they had a good time,” he said quietly.
“They did and they charmed everybody,” I replied quietly. “You’ve got good kids, Mickey.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, drew in a breath that expanded his broad chest, something that made me feel odd things, things I quit feeling when he finished, “Later, Amy.”
It struck me then that his kids were supposed to call me Miz Hathaway.
But they’d been calling me Amy.
And he’d said nothing.
I didn’t mention this.
I said, “Later, Mickey.”
He lifted his chin and turned away.
I watched him walk, doing this taking in the natural control he had over his body, thus doing it enjoying it, and I knew I should go in. I knew I shouldn’t stand out there and watch them drive away.
But I stood out there and watched them drive away.
I even did it waving and smiling.
They were making the turn onto the street when I jumped because I heard, “Your fellow is quite good-looking, Amelia.”
I looked down at Mrs. McMurphy, who was wearing a bulky winter coat and standing beside me.
“He’s not—” I started but stopped when she leaned into me.
“Don’t let him loose. Smart woman never lets go of a good man,” she advised.
I stared because I realized we were having a relatively normal conversation and she’d called me Amelia, something she never called me.
Then she shivered, even though it was a sunny, summer day, and looked to the heavens.
She then turned, smartly snapped open an umbrella that had come loose from two of its prongs, put it over her head and started walking away.
I kept staring then I jolted because Mrs. McMurphy had somehow slipped through the admittedly dreadful security keeping the old folks inside and safe, and she was ambling away in a cold thunderstorm that was not happening.
“Wait!” I exclaimed, starting after her.
She turned and brandished her umbrella at me. “Don’t get near me, you Nazi!” She swung the umbrella wide and shouted, “Death to Hitler!”
I managed not to laugh as I also managed to corral a cantankerous Nazi-hating old lady back into her nice, but still slightly shabby, home for the elderly.
Chapter Ten
They Spoke to Me
The Friday my children were to return to me, when I heard the garage door go up, I did not rush to the door leading to the garage, open it and stand in it, waiting.
I continued doing what I was doing in the kitchen.
So when my kids came through the door, I was there, waiting for them, glad they were home, but not showing them I was waiting for them.
But I did show them I was glad they were home.
I did this looking to the side, smiling wide, and calling, “Hey, honeys.”
Auden looked to me.
Olympia shuffled behind him to get out of the way of the closing door.
“Come here, would you?” I asked, rolling dough in my hands that was going to be sugar cookies with M&Ms, another of their favorites.
They moved my way but stopped well beyond the end of the counter that started the kitchen.
I let that happen and continued doing what I was doing, shifting my attention between them and the cookies and doing it speaking.
“I hope you did as I asked and didn’t make plans, because tonight we’re having dinner and then we’re watching a movie together. A Few Good Men. As you can see, I got a couch so we can all sit close to the TV. And there are tables.”
I tipped my head toward the opposite landing to call their attention to the couch.