I nodded, knowing full well I wasn’t going to kick him out of his bed, but I wasn’t about to argue with him about it in that moment.
“Feel free to watch TV. The remotes are right here on the coffee table. The bathroom is just down the hall, there’s stuff in the fridge if you get hungry or thirsty—”
“Devon, I’ll be fine. The kids will be fine. I promise.”
“Yeah, okay,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I watched him walk to the door, giving me a short wave before he shut it behind him, then I sat in his dark living room. It only took a few minutes before I started yawning, so I stood up and tried to walk around to keep myself awake. I walked down the hallway, peeking into the kids’ rooms, checking to make sure they were still sleeping peacefully.
After I’d done a few laps around the darkened house, I finally decided to lie on the couch and read a book on my phone.
When I woke, it took me a moment to remember I was in Devon’s house, but it became clear very quickly. I didn’t even have to move my head to see the giant portrait of his wife hanging on the wall.
She was beautiful. She looked a lot like Ruby. I could even see a little Jax in her. But, God, she was stunning. Laughing in the shot, presumably unaware of the camera, with strands of pearls dripping through her fingers.
I tore my eyes from her, trying to push down the irrational jealousy. I would not be jealous of a woman who lost her life to cancer. What kind of person would that make me? I pushed the blanket off me, then realized I hadn’t fallen asleep with a blanket. Warmth flooded me thinking about Devon draping a blanket over me in the middle of the night.
Sitting up, I took in the rest of the house that I hadn’t really paid attention to the night before.
The house was nice and it looked homey. The furniture looked worn, as if people lounged on it often. The coffee table wasn’t perfectly lined up with the couch, which wasn’t perfectly lined up with the accent rug underneath, which only made me think that things were thrown off kilter as children ran by. I pictured Ruby chasing Jax, his side catching on the couch as he ran from her, knocking it a few inches, and nobody coming by to fix it. There were a few toys scattered around, a few books that looked to be Ruby’s, and just general life litter: mail, shoes, jackets. There was no coatrack, so the coats were hanging over the chairs.
It wasn’t messy—it was lived in.
Standing, I noticed the mantel had many more pictures of Olivia, only these were photos of her with her family, and I couldn’t help the smile that came over my face, the deep and hollow feeling that settled in my gut, or the frown that came with feeling two warring emotions at once.
I found the bathroom and on my way back out I practically ran into Ruby.
“Oh my goodness,” I said, hand to my chest, breaths coming hard and fast. “You scared me.”
“I didn’t know you were here.” Ruby’s tone landed somewhere between apologetic and accusatory.
“I fell asleep while your dad was getting your meds.” For some reason, it felt as though I was trying to explain to my father why I’d missed curfew.
Ruby watched me for a few more moments, still at the threshold of the bathroom. “I’m hungry,” she finally said, her voice softer, and my shoulders sagged as the tension between us melted away.
“Well, I think it would be good to let your daddy sleep for a bit, so how about I make you breakfast?”
She shrugged. “Okay.” I let out a breath of relief and made my way to the kitchen, quietly opening cabinets to try and figure out what I could make for a child recovering from a stomach bug. When I heard footsteps coming down the hall, I turned just in time to see Ruby hike herself up onto one of the barstools. Then she just stared at me.
“What do you feel like eating?” She shrugged again. “Hmmm, I know when kids are sick, you’re only supposed to feed them food on the BRAT list.”
“The what?” Her face contorted in confusion.
“BRAT—bananas, rice, applesauce, and toast. Rice isn’t a very good breakfast choice. How about toast?” I gave her a hopeful look.
“I hate toast.”
“Okay….” I turned back to the cupboards, looking for applesauce but coming up empty-handed. My gaze moved over the countertops until I found what I was looking for. “Ah! But there are bananas. How about a banana?”
Ruby chewed on her bottom lip a bit, then said, “I’m, like, really hungry.”
“Hmmm,” I said, thinking that breakfast couldn’t always be this difficult. Then my eyes caught something else in the cupboard. “How about banana pancakes?”
Her eyebrows rose. “You can make banana pancakes?”