“You’ll do fine,” he repeats.
I change the subject. His comfort is a little too sweet. A little too much to handle. “What about the house? It looked like some of it was starting to fall apart.”
“Parts of it are in pretty bad shape, but I can help you with that.” Before I can speak around the lump in my throat, he says, “Most of your mom’s life insurance will go to paying off her doctor’s bills, the funeral expenses, but the amount leftover should be enough for repairs.”
“I appreciate the offer, but you’ve already done more than enough.” Besides, him hulking around the house with his shirt off is entirely out of the question.
“Look,” he says plainly, “I’m glad you’re stepping up, but I’m not going to go away just because you’re coming back. They deserve some stability. I’m going to stick around, at least for a little while, to make sure you don’t run out on them the first chance you get.”
Well, that hurt. I gulp more wine. “Fine, knock yourself out.”
“I can manage them this week, but then they’re all yours. I’ll come out to the house to finish cleaning up and assess what needs to be done from there.”
“Fine,” I say, peering into my cabinets for more wine. If I’m going to need to be an adult, I might as well finish off the booze I have now before I become responsibility’s bitch.
“I’ll get in touch with the social worker and I’ll let you know if I need anything else.”
“Wonderful.” I pop open another bottle, eyeing it appreciatively.
The sound of a door opening and a feminine voice filter over the line. “I’ve gotta go, but call me when you’re on your way back, okay?”
“Sure,” I choke out.
The line clicks and I stare at the wine, then I go back to the cabinet and grab the remaining two bottles.
It’s going to be a long night.
A reasonable person would assume that getting three people dressed and out the door on time for dinner would be an easy task.
One would also be dead-ass wrong.
As I stand on the front porch steps shouting, for the third time, that I’m leaving in five seconds, I come to the conclusion that reasonable people also don’t have children.
Clearly you have to be crazy to reproduce. I’m surprised the rest of the world hasn’t caught on. I’ve only had these guys a couple of days and I’m ready to call mercy. From school and basketball practice to sibling rivalry and past resentments. I’ve had a crash-course in being a parent and I’m not sure if I’m cut out for it.
“All right,” I scream through the front door. “That’s it. If you’re not in the car, you’re getting left behind and I don’t want to hear any bitching when I don’t bring any leftovers—including dessert—back here to you ungrateful brats.”
What I can only assume is a stampede of obese elephants comes from the stairs and my brothers appear out of breath and red-faced in the doorway. “Did you say dessert?” Donnie asks, his face upturned and open for the first time since I picked them up this morning.
My rage softens marginally. “Well, Ben may have eaten it all now, but if you hurry, sometimes Livvie sneaks some before he can get it.”
Donnie beelines for my car and I sigh. Apparently, bribery is the only way to get a kid to do what you want. I make a mental note to write a book about it. I could make millions selling them to sleep-deprived parents.
Rafe isn’t as easily sold, but not wanting to be left alone, he reluctantly follows Donnie. I have a feeling he’s going to be a lot harder to win over than his brother.
He reminds me of…well, me. Which doesn’t bode well considering my track record and awards in stubbornness.
They settle in the backseat with the barest amount of grumbling. I count that as a win on my part. I’ve had a scant few of those since Jack and I broke the news about me becoming their guardian a couple days ago. It’s been an uphill battle ever since…one I’m clearly losing.
“How long until we get there?” Rafe asks. I look in the rearview and see him staring moodily out the window. His lips are pulled down and his arms are crossed over his chest. A pang shoots through me.
My voice softens. “We’re almost there.”
Livvie’s place comes into view and my hands unclench a little on the steering wheel. Livvie was a natural mother. When she had her son Cole, she took to it like second nature. She would know what to do with my brothers. If nothing else, her calming presence would help alleviate my anxiety for the time being.
I park next to Livvie’s car and I feel a smile spreading across my face. My mother’s house held too many memories, ones I’d rather leave dead and buried. Livvie’s place, however, feels like home.
“This is it?” Rafe asks incredulously.
I roll my eyes and head up to the front door. If they want to come, fine. If not, they can wait out in the cold.