8.
C AT
I snuggled into the pillow and then took a deep breath through my nose when the most delicious scent hit me. It smelled like laundry detergent, shampoo, sunscreen, and man. I wasn’t sure how I could differentiate all those things from each other, but the one that interested me most was the smell of man.
As long as that man was Fish.
I still wasn’t sure how I got to his bed, but I remember waking up at least once to find him sitting up in bed and staring into the room where the girls were sleeping just a few feet away. When I put them to bed last night, I discovered that they were the first people to sleep in his guest room, only because I had to rip the plastic cover off the mattress before I covered it with a blanket he’d found for me.
Other than that, I slept better than I had in ages, especially considering that since I left Ajax’s home, my bed had been the passenger seat of a truck, then various hotel beds before more endless nights spent trying to get comfortable in the passenger seat.
The gentle rocking of the boat in the water really did a number on the girls, and they fell asleep just minutes after I settled them in bed, and then I fell asleep out in the open in mid-conversation with Chai.
Chai. That’s where the smell came from!
I lifted my head to see where he was, but the room was empty. I sat up and looked over at the room where the girls had been sleeping and found it empty too.
Where in the hell were my children?
I jumped out of bed, rushed out into the bright sunshine, and barely had enough time to let my eyes adjust before I was crawling over the side to land on the dock. I was halfway across the lawn when I heard my Grammy’s laughter and slowed down when I heard Charlotte’s happy cackle followed by a man’s deep laughter. I slowed to a walk when I heard Mackenzie squeal followed by those adorable baby giggles that no one with half a heart could resist smiling about.
The sound I couldn’t recognize got louder as I got closer, and when I walked into Bubbe’s house, I realized my daughters were the source of it. They were sitting in the middle of the floor with pans and bowls strewn around them along with an assortment of metal utensils including serving spoons and dining spoons. Grammy had spent God knows how much outfitting their nursery with every toy imaginable, but they were having more fun playing with kitchenware than they ever had in their life.
“Mornin’, sleepyhead,” Fish greeted from his seat near the girls. Without even looking down, he put his hand out to protect Charlotte’s head from Mackenzie’s wild swing with a serving spoon and then gently took it out of her hand before he tossed it back on the ground between them.
“Good morning. I thought I heard Grammy in here.”
“You just missed her. She’s going to the club for tennis lessons with Bubbe and Aunt Dodie.”
“Really?”
“Fernando Fridays,” a woman who could be no one other than one of Fish’s sisters chimed in as she walked into the room. She came directly to me and held her hand out before she said, “Hi! I’m Chai’s sister, Rachel.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you!”
“Just FYI, I’m going to kidnap your girls and enjoy motherhood without all those pesky things like postpartum depression, stretch marks, and debt. Don’t worry, though - the first time one of them keeps me up all night, I’ll bring them right back.”
“Um . . .”
“She’s kidding,” Fish assured me.
“Okay,” I said hesitantly. I glanced over at him and asked, “Where did Grammy go again?”
“Fernando Friday,” Rachel answered before she handed Charlotte an applesauce pouch. She popped the top on another one before she handed it to Mackenzie, and then sat down next to Fish. “They pretend they’re interested in learning how to play tennis, but their instructor, Fernando, is a twenty-eight-year-old Cuban who wears tight shorts and likes to take his shirt off every chance he gets.”
I couldn’t do anything but blink, trying to absorb what she’d just said and wondering when my grandmother had turned into a pervert.
Apparently, the look on my face was comical because Fish started laughing, and even though Rachel tried very hard to stop herself, she joined in seconds later.
“Don’t worry! He’s harmless.”
“I’m sure he is.”
“I promise. He and his husband bring all of their animals to me. I haven’t had the heart to tell The Golden Girls, though. They have way too much fun flirting with him.”
“The Golden Girls? Like the show?”
“You haven’t had a chance to really sit down and talk to Bubbe and Dodie or any of their other friends, but you will soon since Marjorie has joined their clique,” Fish explained.
“It sounds like Grammy might be . . . um . . . experiencing things she wasn’t exposed to when she was at home.”
Rachel burst out laughing and said, “That was the nicest way to say that you think your grandmother might be losing her shit!”
“Wasn’t it?” Fish asked as he reached down and protected Charlotte from another swing.
If I wasn’t so shocked to hear that my grandmother had taken up tennis for the express purpose of ogling a man who was younger than me, I would probably be worrying about why Mackenzie was intent on hitting her sister in the head.
“Are you happy now?” a young woman yelled from somewhere toward the front of the house. “You have officially ruined my life!”
“Was I that dramatic when I was her age?” Rachel asked.
“I distinctly remember you getting pissed at me because I threw away your razor, and when I suggested you use one from the package I bought, you threatened to slit my throat with it.”
Rachel scoffed before she looked at me and asked, “Now who is being dramatic?”
“Stop it!” another young woman yelled.
There were a few grunts and a scream before the first girl yelled, “I’m going to kick your ass for that!”
“Take it outside, girls!” Rachel yelled over her shoulder. “You know Uncle Chai gets woozy at the sight of blood.”
Fish snorted and then bit his lip before he lifted his coffee mug for a sip. A young woman with gorgeous brown hair that was almost down to her waist rushed around the corner with murder in her eyes. Rachel put her hand up, and the young girl stopped in her tracks when she spotted Charlotte and Mackenzie on the floor.
She dropped down to her knees and leaned forward to get closer before she started talking baby talk and reached out to run her hands over Charlotte’s disheveled curls. Suddenly, another girl appeared, this one with her hair a mess and a red spot on her face. She looked down at the girl on the floor and growled before Rachel put her hand up to stop her from getting any closer.
“I’m gonna kill her.”
“Don't do it in here. You’ll scar those babies for life,” Rachel warned.
“What seems to be the problem?” Fish asked.
“Ever the peacemaker,” Rachel said under her breath.
“Mom said that I could send Eric a text, but she stole my phone and added something stupid to the message, and now I look like an idiot!” the angry young woman, who now had Mackenzie perched on her hip, explained.
“Who is Eric?” Fish asked.
“You are totally missing the point, Uncle Chai!”
“Yeah. She’s having a crisis, and you’re stuck on the fact that there’s a boy involved,” Rachel teased.
“And you’re not?” Fish snapped.
“It’s a boy she met at summer camp,” Rachel told me with a shrug.
“So?”
Rachel chuckled before she said, “He lives in Connecticut.”
“Oh. Okay,” Fish said dismissively before he looked back at the girls. “First of all, Mara, you shouldn’t use other people’s phones without permission. Second of all, it’s not cool to make your cousin look like . . .”
“An idiot!” the girl whose name I still wasn’t sure of snapped.
I found out when Fish said, “Nola, beating the shit out of her isn’t going to solve anything.”
“It might make me feel a little better,” Nola muttered.
“Try it,” Mara snapped.
That worried me because they were now each holding one of my children. Rachel and Fish didn’t seem concerned, but the possibility of bloodshed while my children were in range was very upsetting to me. Just as I was about to step in and take them to safety, another young woman, this one older than the first two, swept into the kitchen.
She ran her hand across Rachel’s shoulders as she walked around the table, and once she was beside Fish, she gave him a loud kiss on the cheek. “It’s about time you got home, Bub! I’ve missed you.”
“Really?”
“Like a rash,” she teased. She looked over at the young women and then her eyes lit up when she saw my daughters. “Oh, there are babies here!”
“I call dibs on this one!” Mara said as she turned so the young woman couldn’t touch Charlotte.
The other girl, Nola, turned away, too, and held Mackenzie tighter as she said, “This one’s mine.”
“Their mother might have something to say about that,” Fish said drolly.
“They’re adorable, and I’m available to babysit on weekends for a nominal fee,” the young woman said cheerfully before she pulled a business card out of her pocket and thrust it in my direction.
“Magda, this is Cat. She’s Marjorie’s granddaughter.”
“I love Marjorie!” the woman exclaimed before she threw her arms around me for a tight hug. She let me go so quickly that I staggered backwards as she turned and pointed at the girls. “Don’t horn in on my business, or you’ll end up walking to town.” Nola and Mara each bent over and gently set Mackenzie and Charlotte on the floor in the midst of the pots. Magda smiled at me before she mouthed, “Call me!” and then headed toward the door. Over her shoulder, she called out, “It’s been fun, but I’ve got a van full of kids who are dying to go swimming. Come on, girls! The bus is leaving in two minutes. Bye, Cat! Bye, Aunt Rachel! Bye, Bub!”
“Love you, Mom,” Nola said as she rushed out of the room after Magda.
“See ya!” Mara said as she followed close behind.
“That was . . . I just . . .” I was shell-shocked after all the noise and excitement of what had seemed like forever but couldn't have been more than five minutes. “Whoa.”
“Oh, honey, that was nothing. Just wait until the boys invade,” Rachel said with a smirk.
“Where are they?” Fish asked.
“Probably burning down a building or negotiating with the SWAT team.”
“What?” I asked in horror.
“She’s exaggerating. They’re just a little . . . feral.”
“The boys?”
“My sisters apparently don’t know how to do things alone, so they paired up to birth their kids. Mara and Nola are just a few weeks apart. They’re so close in age, in fact, that the probability of Rachel and Ruth getting knocked up on the same day is very high.”
“What can I say? It was a great weekend.”
“Fuck,” Fish hissed before he looked down at his coffee.
Rachel smiled at me and explained, “My son, Riley, is almost eleven as is Hannah’s son, Cay. Hannah’s other son, Rogan, is the same age as Dinah’s son, Kroy.”
“Um.”
“She has no idea who you’re talking about, Rach.”
“It’s a lot to take in, I’m sure, but just know that there’s always a responsible-ish adult around who birthed one or more of said children,” Rachel assured me. “Chai is good with them, too, although he’s just as much of a menace as they are sometimes.”
“That’s a lot of kids.”
“The scariest part of the whole scenario is that they all live on this block. Bubbe has been slowly buying up properties for everyone, and Dodie’s got houses for her children and grandchildren here too.”
“We’re all within about a six-block radius, which is enough to make a person crazy, but it comes in handy when you need a cup of sugar or a babysitter and a break so you don’t end up on the news for child abuse.”
I was stunned speechless but must have made some sort of sound because Fish reached out and grabbed my hand before he tugged me closer and pulled me down onto his lap.
He slid his mug of coffee in front of me and rested his hand on my hip before he said, “Welcome to Cape Coral, Cat.”
Rachel looked surprised by the familiarity between me and Fish and smiled before she added, “And welcome to family!”
◆◆◆
“Are you sure you’re not busy?” I asked.
Sandi laughed before she said, “Ajax is off somewhere saving the world, and I’m going stir-crazy here alone, so believe me when I say I’d love to sit and chat for a while.”
Sandi and I had become good friends while the kids and I hid out at her boyfriend’s house in New Orleans. She’d been my sounding board when I was angry at the world and my situation, my shoulder to cry on when the worry about our future became too much to bear, and my biggest supporter when I was preparing to testify against Joseph.
I hadn’t ever acknowledged just how big a hole losing my mother had left in my life, but now I didn’t have to because Sandi had filled it. She was a great friend and confidant, and I was eager to get her take on the situation with Fish.
“Okay, good. Fish almost kissed me, we slept in bed together last night, and then he had me sit on his lap this morning before breakfast.”
“So, there was not quite a kiss, a mention of sleep but nothing exciting before that, and then you sat on his lap. Were both of you naked when that happened?”
“No. The kids were on the floor, and his sister was sitting across the table from us.”
“Okay, so it was just a territorial thing, I guess.”
“I don’t know. Was it?”
“Let’s start with the almost kissed situation. What happened there?”
I explained about being interrupted by the baby monitor and having to run off and then I told her Fish’s theory that the girls might sleep better on the boat than on solid ground. I told her that I didn’t remember getting into bed with him, but I slept better than I had in ages because it felt good to have his arms around me. And then I mentioned how nice it felt for him to hold me close while he and his sister explained the ins and outs of his family, warning me about late evening runs to pick up our grandmothers and his great-aunt when they’d had too much to drink and the distinct possibility that I might wake up to find a geriatric lothario shirtless in the kitchen someday.
“It sounds like your grandmother has embraced the Florida retirement scene, and now it’s time for you to embrace the reality that you’re falling for your hot bodyguard.”
“Am I, though? Am I even ready to start something with . . . Does he even want to start something or is this just a fling? If it is a fling, what will that mean when it’s over and our grandmothers are still the best of friends? I’m so confused right now . . . and good God above, I’m so fucking hot and sweaty that I’m not sure I’m gonna survive long enough to figure all of this shit out.” Sandi was laughing so hard that I couldn’t understand what she was trying to say, so I kept complaining. “It’s winter! I’m supposed to be wearing a parka when I walk outside to check the mail, but right now, my clothes are sticking to me and I don’t feel like I’ll ever be cold again!”
“Holy shit,” Sandi cackled.
“I took a shower this morning when I got the girls down for their nap - which wasn’t very long since they still find it impossible to sleep on solid ground, and even though I dried myself off with a towel, I was wet again before I even got dressed!”
“I’m dealing with the same situation here in New Orleans, honey. I get it.”
“The kids have been in their diapers all day. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to put them in clothes again.”
“All of you will adjust, but it’s going to take some time. My suggestion is to dress in loose-fitting clothes that are light and comfortable, unless, of course, you’re okay with just walking around in a swimsuit all the time.”
“I looked at the weather on my phone earlier and then shut it down and restarted the damn thing because I was sure it was wrong.” Sandi started laughing again, and it got louder when I said, “It was 85 flipping degrees today, and the humidity was in the seventies! Now I know why you see all those memes and TikToks about Florida people doing unhinged things. It’s because their brains are cooking!”
“I’m sorry I’m laughing. I am,” Sandi choked out. “Maybe you should stay inside during the heat of the day until you acclimate.”
“What’s the time frame on that? I’d really like to go exploring since this is my new home.” I leaned over and picked up one of Mackenzie’s toys and put it on the tray of her walker before I leaned back against the couch cushion and moaned. I had a sudden thought and asked, “Is it true that alligators can climb trees?”
“I’d think so. I’ve seen videos of them climbing over fences, so I assume . . .”
“What in the Cinnamon Toast Fuck have I gotten myself into?”
Sandi didn’t answer because she was laughing too hard. After at least three minutes of her howling and snorting uncontrollably in my ear, I got frustrated and hung up on her.
Twenty-four hours in Florida, and the heat was already getting to me. I wondered how hard it would be to convince Grammy that we should move somewhere . . . dry. Maybe the mountains. I’d heard that Colorado was beautiful. Hell, Alaska sounded great right about now.
I glanced over at my sweaty children and moaned. If they looked flushed and damp, I couldn’t imagine what I looked like. At this point, did I even care?
Obviously not, because ten seconds later, my shirt was flying across the room. I laid back against the couch cushion with a sigh and let the breeze of the AC blow over my exposed skin. Sandi’s idea of wearing nothing more than a bathing suit every day had merit, but even I knew that wasn’t feasible.
However, I’d seen a gorgeous caftan hanging in the laundry room that might suit my purposes.
If I had to get dressed anytime soon, I just might borrow it.