“Run!” Dingo said. “Go!”
Whrrrrrrrr! Now, it was going back down.
Together they galloped down the stairs and through that palatial kitchen to that giant mudroom, where—God, there was a door leading into the house from the garage.
Dingo was first out the door to the back patio, and Maddie was right behind him. She made the mistake, though, of turning to close that door behind her.
And as she did, Fee’s mother came in through the garage.
Her surprise was all over her Fee-like face as she saw Maddie and gasped.
Maddie opened her mouth, and instead of Tell Fee to go fuck herself, she said, “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Clark,” before she slammed the door closed behind her.
And, as she ran like hell toward Dingo’s car, she realized it was true.
She was incredibly sorry. For herself, for Fiona’s mother, for Dingo, and even for her dad.
But most of all, she felt sorry for the Fees and the Lisas, who crashed through life, probably through no real fault of their own, fucking it up royally for everyone around them.
“Any word from Maddie?”
Shayla checked her phone. “Nothing yet.”
Post-sex dishevelment repair was even more awkward in a garage, she had just discovered.
Fortunately, Peter had been dealing with his own shorts-around-his-ankles awkwardness and hopefully hadn’t paid too much attention to her tank-top-and-sneakers-only fashion statement. Temporary fashion statement. She’d pulled her shorts on over her bare ass as quickly as humanly possible.
“You hungry?” Peter asked as he finished zipping up his own shorts.
“I would not say no to your scrambled eggs,” she admitted. When he’d cooked them the other night, they’d smelled impossibly good.
“I can do more than eggs,” he told her with a smile. “Believe it or not, I’m a pretty good cook.”
“I believe it,” she said, reaching up to pull his mouth down for a quick kiss.
He caught her, holding on to both of her arms, so that he could kiss her again. Longer this time. “That was amazing.” He smiled into her eyes. “Let’s do it again. But unlike Jack-of-the-magic-penis, I’ll need a few hours to get mine ready to go again.”
Shayla laughed. “Jack does not have a magic penis.”
“I think he might. Either that, or you left out the part where he takes a shit-ton of Viagra.”
“How about if we don’t attempt to schedule a replay,” she told him. “Instead, let’s have a signal that says Meet me in the back of the garage, ASAP.”
He nuzzled her neck. “Like, if we run into each other out by our mailboxes, and one of us says, Hello.”
She cracked up. “You want hello to be our Let’s go have sex signal?”
He kissed her lips. “I very much do,” he said.
And for a moment, Shayla lost herself as she let him kiss her and kiss her and kiss her. She might’ve kissed him forever if he hadn’t suddenly lifted his head.
“Did you hear that?” he asked.
“You mean, the sound of my vagina applauding?” she asked.
Peter laughed. “Jesus, I love…your sense of humor. But no, that’s not what I meant.”
Okay. Had she just imagined that hesitation after love? She must’ve. Although, God, the idea that she was breathlessly analyzing his language usage in hopes of a clue or a sign that he wanted to, what? Marry her? Harry was right. She sucked at casual sex. Sometimes I love your sense of humor meant exactly and only that. She made the man laugh.
“There,” he said, but she shook her head.
There were lots of different sounds and noises in their neighborhood. Traffic from the main road, a few streets over. Airplanes regularly passing overhead. Mrs. Quinn’s hose as she watered her garden.
“As long as it’s not another earthquake,” she started to say, following him out of the garage and onto the driveway. Where, most definitely, they now both heard a crashing sound coming from inside Peter’s house.
“What the fuck?” he said. “Maddie? Maddie!”
He charged toward his kitchen door, with Shayla right behind him.
Izzy was on the phone with Eden when Lindsey Jenkins called.
His amazing, beautiful, incredible wife was telling him all about Ben’s tour of Boston College, which the kid apparently loved. “Bonus is it’s not that far from Jenn’s brother—the one who lives in Needham.”
“That’s great, sweetheart,” he said, glancing at his phone as Lindsey gave up. “I just…”
“You just want him to go to UCLA,” she finished for him. “So he won’t be far away from home. That’s definitely still in the running. But seeing all of these other schools is important.”
“I know,” he said as Lindsey’s name popped up again on his screen. “Fuck, Eed, Lindsey’s calling me—that’s twice in a row.”
“Take it, take it!” Eden rarely used exclamation points. “Izzy, come on! What if she’s having the baby and needs you? Go! Go!”
“Right! Shit! Love you!” He switched over. “Yo, Linds! You giving birth on the freeway, or what?”
“Yeah, that’s the super-fun part of being ten months pregnant,” she said dryly. “Every time I call anyone, the assumption is I’m popping out a baby in the middle of some arroyo.”
“I believe I said freeway.”
“Or what means arroyo, and you know it,” she countered. “And no. Mark’s ridiculously large spawn isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.”
“Famous last words,” Izzy warned her.
“Yes,” she said. “I know. I am absolutely and intentionally tempting fate. Please, sweet God, create some crazy hijinks by sending me into immediate labor.” She paused, waiting, but then sighed heavily. “No, apparently it’s not going to happen yet.”
“Well, since you don’t need me to deliver the baby,” Izzy said, “how else can I help you?”
“You wouldn’t happen to be over at Grunge’s right now, are you?”
“I am not,” Izzy said. “Why?”
“I’ve tried calling him, and he’s not picking up.”
“Aha!” Izzy said.
“Aha?”
“Proof that he’s gettin’ it on with the pretty neighbor lady.” Izzy was delighted. “What else would he be doing at eleven hundred in the morning?” As he said the words he realized that 11 A.M. was probably the least likely time for the LT to be doing the dance of love with his new “friend” Shayla.
“I could think of about a dozen different things.” Lindsey further shot him down. “He could be in the shower, or maybe his phone got set to silent and he doesn’t know it…?”
“La la la,” Izzy said loudly over her. “I prefer to live in a super-happy world where all of my friends get laid regularly. Hey, can I ask you something?”
“With that lead-in, I’m not sure.”