Chapter 12
Brian
All day my heart had been racing. Though I felt bad that Jess had been called in on her day off, I wasn’t angry that I might catch a glimpse of her. Maybe it was pathetic, but I looked forward to the few minutes we’d spend together on the days she picked up the girls.
A call from the courthouse came in not long after I’d returned, and we discovered that Amy hadn’t provided proof of service or the signed CLIS to the court. A deficiency notice was not how I wanted to start this day.
By the time I got home, it was almost seven, and I was a disheveled, cranky mess. It killed me to know I’d missed Jess. Especially after such a breakthrough of a day. But I’d spent over an hour at the courthouse, and then traffic had been terrible.
Music played upstairs as I stopped into my office to drop off files, the thump of the bass making the whole place vibrate.
It was a bit loud for the boys’ video games, and Sloane had been cracking down on T.
J.’s screen time lately. Maybe she’d pulled out the karaoke machine Sully’d brought home for her.
She’d been obsessed with karaoke in college, and she had already introduced the boys to the art of singing along with songs while getting just about every word wrong.
At the top of the stairs, I opened the door and came face to face with a sight I hadn’t expected.
Pop music played from a Bluetooth speaker that had been set up in the middle of the ping-pong table.
In the center of the living room, Jess was swaying and jumping and laughing with total abandon.
Even in her work clothes after a long day, her joy was infectious.
Kit was dancing beside her, her moves much more complicated.
And Greta and T. J. were holding hands and spinning in circles.
Sloane and Sully were slow dancing in the kitchen, the baby strapped to Sully’s chest between them.
With every revolution, he’d lean down and kiss the baby’s head.
Lo and Cal were doing a robot-type dance, and though Murphy was sitting on the couch, being his usual reserved self, he was grinning at them.
“What’s going on?”
Jess came to an abrupt stop and gave me a warm, wide smile that instantly sent a wave of relief through me. “It’s dance party Wednesday,” she declared with a spin. “DJ Kit, we need a new song. And no more Lake Paige.”
With a roll of her eyes, Kit dragged herself over to the ping-pong table and picked up the tablet set on its edge.
“Can you play ‘The Gummy Bear Song’?” T. J. asked.
Kit smirked, and Greta giggled, and a moment later, the most obnoxious sounds I’d ever heard filled the apartment. Ridiculous lyrics blasted loud enough to damage eardrums, and I swear I could feel the walls vibrating with every Pop in the song.
Murphy finally stood and joined in, jumping alongside T. J., a two-child mosh pit in front of the couch, losing their ever-loving minds over this nonsense.
As I watched, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit silly too.
“You have to dance,” Greta said, grabbing my arm.
Jess approached me, her swaying hips holding my attention. Despite the words “gummy bear” being repeated endlessly, all I could think about was gripping her there and digging my fingers into her soft flesh.
“Come on,” she said, pulling me from my stupor.
I had a lot of work to do, and I was not the kind to join in when Sloane did break out the karaoke machine. In fact, I typically volunteered to babysit the boys when the rest of our group wanted to head out to the Grasshopper on karaoke nights.
But with the look Jess was giving me? I’d have walked over hot coals if it meant seeing her smile.
So I loosened my tie, shed my jacket, and bopped around like the world’s biggest idiot while the song played.
“Play ‘It’s Raining Tacos’ next,” T. J. yelled.
Nodding, Kit slid a finger over the screen of the device, and soon, we were dancing to a new beat and my face hurt from smiling. I hadn’t felt this carefree and silly in I didn’t know how long. And it hit me then that I’d been missing this kind of joy in my life for decades.
Sully and Sloane continued to stare at each other like no one existed, and Cal was swinging and twirling Lo around like he’d had professional dance lessons. The kids were yelling and laughing, and I was sweaty and red-faced and having the time of my damn life.
“Ooh,” Jess said, plucking the iPad from Kit’s hands. “This one is for Brian and me.”
She set the device down, sauntered to me, and loosened my tie further, her face lit up in the brightest grin.
“Ready to dance?” she asked as the opening chords played.
It took half a second to recognize the song, and when I did, I’m certain my brows hit my hairline.
“You remembered,” I said softly as “Dance, Dance” by Fallout Boy played.
She pulled my tie off with a flourish. “’Course I did. You were such a cute punk nerd.” With her lip caught between her teeth, she spun and danced wildly. The girls joined in, yelling the lyrics. I guess she had remained a fan.
Soon T. J. was spinning around Sully, Sloane was swaying with Tia, and Cal and Lo were back to flirting as they danced. Lo’s giggles were loud enough to be heard over the music, and Murphy joined in too.
Lo had worked for me for almost a decade, and I could count on one hand the number of times she’d giggled before Cal had finally worn her down and wooed her.
“Come on,” Jess said, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me toward her.
Surrounded by kids, with my best friends in the world close and the only woman I’d ever loved in front of me, I wasn’t sure I’d ever been happier.
After one more song, Sloane turned the speaker off. “It’s bedtime,” she said.
She was met with a round of groans from Greta and the boys and quickly gave in to the pleas for one more song.
Smiling, Kit tapped the iPad screen and put on another Lake Paige song. Then she broke out into an elaborate dance.
When it had ended and the music was turned off for good, the entire crew collapsed in a sweaty heap, some lounging on the couch, others on the chairs, and the kids sprawled out on the floor.
As Cal and Sully wrangled the boys so they could get ready for bed, Greta approached me. “Mom brought pizza. Want some?”
“So what were we celebrating?” I asked Kit when she handed me a slice of cheese on a paper plate. Jess was busy cleaning up the kitchen and chatting with Lo.
“It’s dance party Wednesday.”
“Our mom loves to make traditions,” Greta said, popping up behind me with a full glass of water.
I took it from her with a nod of thanks and sipped from it so it’d be less likely to spill.
Kit sat on the couch. “Right after the divorce, things were rough. So Mom started doing all these silly things with us to cheer us up.”
“Like Munchkin Mondays,” Greta said, dropping onto the cushion beside her sister. “Every Monday morning, we get up early and stop at Dunkin’ for Munchkins on the way to school. I eat the chocolate.”
“I love the jelly kind,” Kit added.
“What about your mom?” I peered at Jess, who had her back turned.
“She likes the butternut ones. But they’re hard to find. Not every Dunkin’ has them, and they don’t make very many.” She frowned.
“Oh, really?” I asked, my mind zeroing in on an idea.
Greta bobbed her head. “Yup.”
“She’s obsessed,” Kit went on. “They remind her of when she was a kid and her grandpa would take her on special occasions.”
“Before we moved here, it took forever,” Greta complained. “We had to leave super early because there wasn’t a Dunkin’ near our house.”
“Now it’s easy because we walk by one on the way to our new school.”
“Yeah.” Greta bounced on the couch cushion. “And we know all the people who work there. It’s cool.”
“Do they sell butternut Munchkins?” I asked.
Greta shrugged, and Kit said, “Only sometimes.”
“Okay. I’ll keep an eye out for them for you,” I said. “What other traditions do you celebrate?”
“Saturday is game night and charcuterie,” Greta chirped. “We call it girl dinner because we don’t have to cook anything. We get the fancy cheese from Trader Joes, and sometimes Aunt Lana and Uncle Max come over with their baby.”
My heart warmed at the image of their Saturday nights that formed in my mind. “You have a great mom.”
Greta grinned, but Kit eyed me warily. Tween girls terrified me for exactly this reason. She’d been happily chatting, filling me in, then suddenly, she was on guard. I had no clue what was happening in her head.
“We know.” With that, she stood and walked into the kitchen without looking back.
Deciding our conversation had been a positive one, despite her change in temperament at the end, I stuffed my face. When I finished, I headed to the kitchen to feed the cat, finding Jess telling the girls to collect their things.
“Did you enjoy your first dance party Wednesday?” she asked.
I scanned the open space, noting that my friends had disappeared and the girls were occupied.
“The girls told me about your traditions.” I took a step closer, maybe too close, but she didn’t back away. “You’re an incredible mom, Jess.”
She crossed her arms and looked up at me, her glare reminiscent of the one her daughter had leveled me with only a few minutes ago.
“Brian,” she said sharply. “Stop it.”
“I’m being sincere,” I promised. “You make every day magical for your kids, and they love you for it. They’ll never have to wonder how much you love them. It’s obvious. I see how hard you are on yourself, but you are doing an amazing job.”
She squeezed the bridge of her nose and pinched her eyes shut like she was in pain.
“God damn you, Brian Machon,” she said, shaking her head.
My heart lurched. Shit. Had I said the wrong thing?
“You had to grow up even more handsome than you were in college. And you’re kind too?
” She huffed. “Now you’re telling me you see me and how hard I work?
And you go out of your way to mess with my ex-husband?
” She dropped her arm to her side with a thwack.
“Shit on a brick. Why do you have to be so perfect? It’s not fair how much you’re making me want to like you when you’re my damn lawyer. ”
Anticipation and hope swelled in my chest. She liked me? Part of me found that extremely interesting, and another part was throwing up red flags, shouting that I’d crossed a line. “Sorry,” I said weakly as I took a step back.
“You should be.” She moved forward, poking my chest with her finger. “It’s not fair. I’m an exhausted single mom. You can’t just look like that and speak like that and be so freaking nice all the time. It’s torture on my poor hormones.”
I had no clue what was happening, but I certainly enjoyed it. “Tell them I’m sorry.”
“Mom,” Greta called. “We’re ready.”
With a long sigh, Jess stepped away from me and snagged her purse off the counter.
“See you tomorrow,” she said. “And behave.”