Kara stood beside the door, listening without shame as Graham walked through the process with her son. Trusting Graham not to hurt her boy’s feelings didn’t mean she wasn’t curious how he’d work through it. A little awkwardly at first, but they’d gotten around to a place of understanding.
Most of all, she was grateful he hadn’t made any promises that couldn’t be kept. No mention of forever, or the future. He’d managed to explain the situation on terms her son could understand, without taking a parental role he hadn’t yet assumed, but still managing to keep her son in line as an adult who should be respected. It was . . . almost masterful.
When she heard Graham ask if they had a deal, she hustled back to the kitchen, reaching the stove just as they opened Zach’s door and came strolling out again. Zach walked up to her, slipped one slim arm around her waist and squeezed.
Her heart in her throat, she simply hugged him back, not making him say a word. The hug, at his age, was more than enough.
“Go set the table for me,” she said when she thought her throat would let her. “Remember the placement I showed you?”
“Fork, plate, knife, spoon.” He grinned up at her, and her heart once more caught in her throat. “Got it.”
As he gathered the dishes in his hands to take them to the small four-seater kitchen table, Graham walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. The touch was intimate, though not sexual. And when he rested his chin on top of her head, she leaned back into the embrace, just a little. Then gasped and twisted in his hold to see Zach’s reaction.
He stood, watching, one plate still in his hand, head cocked to the side as if still taking it all in.
“We talked,” Graham said solemnly. “Right Zach? He’s good with it if we kiss and date and stuff.”
That forced Kara to muffle a laugh, for her baby’s sake. “Oh, did you now?” Her voice was light, but she watched diligently for any sign of problems with her son. “Always good to know the menfolk can come to a decision about such matters and then let the women know.”
Graham’s quiet laughter was unmistakable, as she was plastered against his chest. But Zach simply shrugged, as if to say I don’t get why you’d wanna kiss, but oh well. Then he went back to setting the table. The unofficial seal of approval from a ten-year-old.
Kara brought the food to the table, glad she’d splurged for the nice serving bowls for the steamed vegetables and potatoes. The chicken, sadly, sat on a plain plate, ready to be forked up. Couldn’t be helped, she had to cut off the spending somewhere.
For all his whining for wings, Zach inhaled his dinner as usual. He took seconds, as did Graham, and cleared his plate without being reminded once. The talk with Graham seemed to have set him in a mood to behave, because he didn’t immediately run off to his room. He settled back down when Kara made herself and Graham coffee.
“What, no coffee for you?” Graham asked him when Zach accepted the cup of hot cocoa, made from her own mix. Zach grinned and shook his head.
“The kid and I have a date with destiny for a while,” Graham informed her. “Shouldn’t take too long, since I plan to whup on him.”
“Whatever,” Zach said with a worldly snort. “You couldn’t whup me if you had an entire platoon holding me down first.”
“Good one,” Graham murmured, smiling in appreciation at the comeback. “Save that one, it’s a keeper.”
“I know.” He grinned, and her little boy was back again. “Mom, can we be excused?”
She was about to say yes, when Graham said, “We need to help your mother with the dishes first.” Zach opened his mouth, but Graham added, “She cooked. We can show some gratitude by cleaning up.”
“Okay.” Easy with the idea, Zach stood and carried his plate to the sink, returning for hers. “You done, Mom?”
She just stared at Graham in shock. “I’m sorry, do you have wizard powers?”
“Nah. He’s got something important to look forward to. And he knows I’m going to make his video game life miserable, so he’s just delaying the punishment.” Standing, he carried his own plate to the sink, kissing the top of her head as he passed.
Zach made a gagging noise by the sink before turning it on.
“Go sit. Watch TV. Read a book. Something that doesn’t involve hovering.” With a nudge, Graham pulled her chair out and sent her ambling toward the master bedroom. “We’ve got it.”
Feeling like an intruder for a bit, she watched as Graham and Zach worked in tandem to clean not only the plates, but dump the leftovers into a plastic container—located by Zach—and washed the serving bowls and pots as well.
Okay, then. She’d just go . . . read a book. Or something.
*
TWO hours later, Graham stretched his neck. Somehow, he was more sore after sitting down and using nothing but his thumbs ninety minutes than he had been after two three-hour-long practices. He was officially getting old when sitting took a toll on his body.