Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
R arity…
I opened the door to the house and let out the breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding at the sight of Striker on the other side, tool belt slung over his shoulder and a smirk on his full and sexy lips.
God, the way my heart seized in my chest at the sight of him… and God , how I just wanted to fling myself into his arms and hide from all the adulting that’d had to go on over the last several hours with the boys being serious butt heads and Mom being in a foul mood and just all the things .
It’d been so bad and I thought Mom was going to have a heart attack or stroke to the point I called off of work.
Striker’s smile never faltered, if anything it grew as he took me in from behind his mirrored aviators as he said, “You look frazzled, babe.”
“You have no idea, ” I told him rolling my eyes and stepping aside as he stepped over the threshold and into the house.
I shut the door behind him, my nerves riding high and a fine buzz settling just under my skin. I felt like any second the shit was going to hit the fan – but I literally had no reason to be so jumpy other than I didn’t know what Mom would do. She was going to know Striker was older than me just by looking at him. I just hoped she sort of guessed lower than what he was and I would be happy to, you know, low-key entertain her on her bullshit right up until I couldn’t anymore.
Of course, I was hoping by the time things came to light and the air was cleared, it wouldn’t matter anymore – you know? I just really hoped that she could and would give him a chance.
“Take me to your toilet dragon’s lair,” he said and I laughed a little and shook my head.
“This way,” I told him.
We passed the kitchen on the left on the way to the boys’ bathroom, and Mom glanced over her shoulder at the sink. The boys were in their room on a major time out.
“Hey!” my mom called out. “Hope you like steak and shrimp – dinner is the least I can do for these little monsters fucking up your evening plans.”
“It’s no problem,” Striker said, grinning at her. “I’m happy to help.”
She nodded but was pretty wholly absorbed in her grill prep at the sink.
“This way,” I said and ushered him quickly down the hall. I touched the boys’ bedroom door and said, “Boy’s room,” and went up the hall a few more steps and touched the opposite door just down from theirs giving it a little shove open, “The dragon’s lair.”
Striker laughed and slid past me into the bathroom, “Go do whatever your mom needs help with for dinner, fair Princess,” he said using his pet name for me and giving me a wink after raising his sunglasses on the top of his head. “I’ll slay this dragon.”
I grinned and shook my head and couldn’t help myself, laughing with him.
“Be brave my valiant knight,” I leaned down and smacked a kiss on his lips and he set his tool belt down and started his explorations of the problem.
I went back out to the kitchen and quietly started picking out three good sized potatoes and three little ones for the boys. When Mom grilled, everyone liked her baked potatoes to go with things.
The boys liked steak, but they wouldn’t be getting any. Mom was making them teriyaki chicken breast instead. You didn’t get steak for acting like little buttholes – plus, steak was expensive and these had been on sale which is the only reason she’d snatched them and there were only three in the pack.
Striker was in there earning his steak for sure right now, the boys could deal with chicken. It wouldn’t kill them, and yet I still felt bad for them.
Mom’s steak was just that good.
“Don’t forget to butter and salt crust those before you wrap them,” my mom said as she coated the chicken breasts with marinade.
“Did you want me to even make the boys up potatoes, or did you want me to get the rice cooker going for them?” I asked.
She stopped and thought about it, and said, “You know what? Rice cooker – no potatoes for them tonight.”
Eek , Mom was really miffed.
“Okay.” I didn’t even try to argue on their behalf. They’d pretty much done it all today. Hitting, kicking, cussing, throwing things at each other, flushing things down the toilet – and just generally being destructive little dicks.
Terroristic tots had replaced my sweet angel babies today, and it seriously felt like only a goddamn exorcism would bring them back.
“Have they been quiet?” our mom asked and I froze.
“Shit,” I said.
“Fuck,” she echoed and she went.
A moment later I heard her, “Oh, my God!” and when the crying instantly started, I knew it was bad.
“Need help?” I called.
“No!” she hollered back and swat! There went one of them screaming at the top of his lungs.
Well, shit.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I heard Striker holler – “Just what did you get into little man?” and the chaos just burbled over from there.
I abandoned my prep work with a heavy sigh and went to see what was going on now and Jesus Christ!
“Where the hell did they get a permanent marker!” I cried as my mom finished giving the next boy a swat. I caught the third before he could make his escape. Striker had the first on the bathroom counter and was doing his best to scrub marker off his skin but yeah – that wasn’t happening.
Mom got the one I had a hold of and gave him a swat and I took Caden with me to the kitchen. He was squalling like we’d put both his brothers through a woodchipper in front of him and I could see Mom was this close to losing her shit – and truth – as the one who had been dealing with this bullshit all day while she’d been at work?
I could feel the frustrated tears gathering in my own eyes as I sat Caden on the kitchen island and took his glasses off his little ink smeared face.
Striker came in a moment later with Aden under one arm and Braden under the other, my mom stalking past the both of us and going out to the back porch.
“I told her to go have a puff – you need to go to?” he asked.
“Yes, but no,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Right, let’s get them scrubbed off, and put them into pajamas. It’s getting to be about that time.”
“Yes, it is,” I agreed. Way past time if you asked me.
We got them in baths, scrubbed the worst of it off through protests, screaming, and squalling, and got the boys into clean pajamas while Mom tried to sort out their bedroom.
It was a tomorrow problem. Just too overwhelming for tonight.
Once in PJs, they got a plain, hurried dinner of chicken and rice, and then it was straight to bed.
It was a damn whirlwind of activity – but Striker was our hero.
“You got kids of your own?” my mother had asked him, and I knew her suspicions were valid – Striker had been really good with the boys.
“Nah,” he said. “I’m just everybody’s favorite crazy uncle,” he told her and I had to smile at that. I could definitely buy that.
“Had a lot of practice wrangling the smaller kids at church growing up – and my mom ran an in-home daycare, so I’ve had a lot of practice. For sure, though – your three tiny terrors have been enough to keep anyone from wanting any just like ‘em tonight,” he shook his head. “I don’t know how y’all do it.”
“Me either sometimes,” my mom said. She heaved a big sigh.
“If you ladies don’t mind, I’m going to get back to what I came here to do and wrangling those little demons has worked up quite the appetite.”
“Shit, God, yeah!” My mom shook her head as though coming out of a daze and said, “Rarity – potatoes and salad. I’m sure the grill is hot and ready and good to go.”
“Potatoes are already on and have been for…” I checked the time. “Shit, they’re probably ready.”
“Good girl!” my mom crowed.
“I’ll get on that salad and you get on the steak and shrimp and it shouldn’t be long at all before dinner is up,” I said.
“Sounds good. Teamwork makes the dream work – go team,” Striker said and he disappeared back in the direction of the boys’ bathroom.
Mom took the platter of seasoned steaks and shrimp skewers out with her and I set to work throwing together a quick and dirty garden salad in one of our big bowls.
Mom came back to wash the platter and reuse it, calling out to Striker, asking how he liked his steak. Medium-rare, just like us, so that was great.
Before long, I was calling for him to wash up and while he did, I set the table for three.
We were all three so worn out we didn’t have it in us for small talk around the table for which I was grateful. Striker said he was going to have to pull the whole toilet, and may have to replace the whole thing if he couldn’t get the stupid toy out of it. He was frustrated, too – and the food definitely helped out a lot .
He told me and Mom to go to bed. Mom said, “I’m going to have to. I have work tomorrow.”
“I’m good for a while longer,” I said. “Go to bed, Mom. I’ve got clean up.”
“You are my golden child right now,” she said and I snorted.
“Don’t ask me how I know,” Striker said, “But Axe body spray takes permanent marker right off of any wall.”
“Okay, why?” My mom asked. “Why would anyone know that?”
Striker laughed, and I laughed too and he shook his head.
“I’m a boy who hangs out with a lot of boys – and all of us have been dumb at one time or another. Pretty sure I got a can of it out in my truck – again – don’t ask .”
“You know what?” my mom said. “I’m not going to. I’m just going to say, ‘thank you’ to the both of you, take the win, and say goodnight.”
“Night, Mom,” I murmured and hugged her back as she awkwardly hugged me.
She went to bed, and I was glad that she wasn’t so stressed that she hadn’t eaten, that most of her plate was clear except a little baked potato and the fat from her steak which we saved for the cats as a treat to find in their bowl.
Striker leaned back and looked at me after he’d said his own thanks for the fine meal and that he hoped my mom would get some rest.
We stared at each other for a long minute and he reached out and cupped y cheek, smoothing a thumb over the soft skin and murmuring, “It’s okay if you need to fall apart a minute, baby girl. I’ve got you, now.”
I sniffed and breathed deep and shook my head.
“Maybe after clean up,” I said and he nodded.
“Need a little help?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“No, you go on.”
“Trust me, I’ll get it fixed, even if I have to call King Stormy himself, and all the rest of the Knights of the Round Toilet Bowl.”
I snorted and started laughing. I couldn’t help it.
“The Royal Bastards are we.” He thumped his fist over his heart twice and held it up like some kind of ancient Knight bro code and I lost it into an absolute fit of giggles to the point I had to stuff both hands against my mouth to keep from completely losing my shit and disturbing my mom.
He grinned at me and winked. I couldn’t help but feel much better about things.