“You two are in an awfully good mood this morning,” I say, retrieving my cup of coffee.
“It’s a beautiful day,” Amie chirps. “The weather says it’s going to get all the way up to 60 degrees and sunny. Summer will be here before we know it.” She turns and catches Max’s eye. “Isn’t someone’s birthday coming up?”
He nods, his mouth partially open from the wad of pancake he’s stuffed inside. I slide his plate away from him and cut the stack into smaller bites.
“What do you want for your birthday?” I ask him. His eyes flicker to Amie, but before I can question what plot they’re hatching, metal crashes from behind the garage door.
I jump to my feet. “What was that?”
Amie waves me off dismissively. “Nothing, although you should probably go tell Jude that breakfast is ready.”
I gawk at her. Next to me, Max begins to giggle.
“You are in so much trouble,” I hiss at her, but I pause at the garage door and tuck my hair behind my ears. There’s nothing that can be done for the t-shirt and shorts I’m still in from last night, but running to my room to change will give her far too much satisfaction.
I crack the door and scream ‘breakfast,’ then shut it quickly behind me, but Amie blocks me from leaving the kitchen.
“Sit your butt down and eat some pancakes,” she orders, shoving a plate into my hands.
There’s another plate sitting at the table already. Jude comes inside and casually lifts his t-shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead, revealing the perfect slab of abs underneath.
From the stove, Amie mouths, “You’re welcome.”
I wonder if that’s what she’ll say when I’m murdering her later.
His eyes meet mine, and I do the only thing I can think to do—I smile. It’s not warm and welcoming, but it’s not forced either. Rather it’s hesitant and shy— the kind of smile you give a stranger that you want to introduce yourself to.
“Your car was making a scraping noise. I heard it the other day.”
Not only is he standing in my kitchen, turning my body inside out, he’s also giving me bad news.
“Can you fix it?” Amie jumps in.
“There was a screw missing on the oil pan. It shouldn’t be an issue.”
I don’t know how to say thank you. The words stick in my throat.
He moves to the sink and begins to wash his hands, rubbing the soap along his forearms. I can’t help but appreciate how the water streams in tiny rivulets down his skin.
I am so incredibly screwed.
“Oh my God, look at the time,” Amie exclaims, tugging her apron over her head. “I promised I’d be in the restaurant before the brunch crowd arrives.” I glare at her. When I’m sitting at my murder trial, I’m going to use this as evidence that I was driven to my crime.
Max continues to shovel forkfuls into his mouth, but I can only stare at my food. Jude doesn’t have the same problem. He takes a bite and groans with pleasure. The sound of it shoots through me and lands between my legs. I know that sound intimately.
Jude holds up a forkful when he sees that I have not started on mine.
“You have to try this,” he urges me.
God help me, but after all this time, I can’t say no, so I take the bite and rediscover the hunger that had forced me awake in the first place. Jude takes a few more bites, then pauses to sign to Max.
You look different, little man.
Max bounces in his seat, pointing to the implants on the side of his head.
What are those? Jude signs excitedly. Max answers back that they’re going to help him hear.
Then I can listen to your music.
I nearly choke on the food in my mouth. Reaching for my water, I swallow hurried gulps to wash it past the lump sitting in my throat.
“I’ll write a song for you,” Jude promises him. His blue eyes flit to mine. “I wrote one for your mommy.”
I want to listen to it, Max signs.
“She hasn’t told me if she likes it yet,” Jude says, his lips face Max, but he’s speaking to me.
We stare at each other until Max appears between us. I shake my head, trying to clear the dizzying feeling that’s infected me.
What can I get you? I ask my son.
I know what I want.
He grabs my hand and tugs it toward the center of the table. He does the same to Jude, linking them together. There’s no electricity like you read about in books when our skin touches. Rather his hand is warm on mine. The only thing I feel is a comforting peace followed by a pang of longing.
“Looks like he knows exactly what he wants for his birthday,” Jude says. He had remembered it was coming up. Of course he had.
Sitting across from him now, I realize Jude isn’t such a mystery. There are shadows in his past. Yet he’s chosen to live in the light. No matter where our lives lead us, it’s comforting to know that there is someone out there who loves Max as much as I do.
Max tugs at Jude’s sleeve, and he looks away from me. I feel colder without his eyes on me. Max asks if Jude will be there when they turn on his implants.
Jude glances up, his eyes searching for permission, and I nod.