Round Fourteen #2
“But that’s where my luck ended, because it turns out that boy no longer exists.
Now there’s just you, and the you you are right now is not the you you were back then.
That boy would never speak to me the way you have these last few weeks.
” She thrusts a hand toward the living room.
“But that little boy in there, the one who wears Spiderman undies and has an unhealthy obsession with prawn chips, he reminds me of the one I used to know. He deserves a dad who smiles the way you smiled in those photos on your mantel. I’m not saying that a date will fix your troubles and bring that smile back—”
“You’re not?”
“No. But you claim to have thirty-seven seconds to yourself each calendar month. Perhaps what you need most of all is a chance to stretch those thirty-seven seconds into something a little more. An evening here, an evening there. It can’t hurt, right?”
Glancing down, she stares at a lock of her hair curled around my fingers.
Fuckkkkkk. When did I grab it?
“You used to do that when we were kids, too.” She takes a single step back and gently tugs the lock free.
“I swear, my heart melted when Jeremy did the same an hour ago. Your son is adorable, Billy. I fully acknowledge that the circumstances are tragic, and you’re right; it’s really, really not fair that you lost Aria.
But I hope you have the good sense to pause sometimes, look at that boy, and remember everything good about him is because of you.
If you try hard enough, you might even remember who you used to be, too.
” She takes another step back. “I miss that boy.”
“Magnolia—”
“I’m gonna go now. I’ve got a lot of work to do, and possibly a few deals to make with the devil. Ya know, to find a handful of women who wouldn’t mind dating a total jackass for a few hours.”
I choke out a fast, breathy laugh.
“She’ll need a heart of iron, a submissive streak a mile wide to put up with your shit, and although I can’t promise to deliver, I do promise to keep massive tits at the forefront of my mind while I’m searching. I’ll come back in a few days and let you know when your first date is.”
“I think you’re missing a key detail, Ms. Sava.”
Don’t leave yet. I’m not done looking at you.
She wanders to the doorway and stops with her hand on the frame. Eternally patient, she brings beautiful golden eyes back to mine. “Oh yeah? What key detail am I missing?”
“I have a son, and he’s not old enough to drive me and my tata-licious dates around just yet. Can’t take him with me, can’t leave him home alone. Kinda ruins all your plans, huh?”
She grins. “You got the whole Magnolia Sava package, Detective. That includes baby-sitting, too.”
“You’re shittin’ me, right?”
“Not at all. Plus, being here at the conclusion of each date makes complete sense anyway, since we’ll need to debrief while the details are still fresh in your mind.
” She taps the door frame and reveals a sexy little smirk, then she turns on her heels and heads back into the living room.
“I’m leaving now, Jeremy. But I had fun eating dinner with you. ”
“Aw man!” The movie pauses, then something hits the floor with a thud. “I don’t want you to go yet, Maggie. We didn’t even have dessert yet!”
I push away from the sink in silence and cross my kitchen on light feet. Stopping where she was a moment ago, I peek around the corner and watch my son throw himself at her legs, wrapping his arms around, and pressing his cheek to her thigh.
Does he know I loved her when we were kids? That he’s already touched her more than I ever did?
“Please stay a little longer,” he whines. “Or, ya know what?” He leans back and stares up into her eyes. “Maybe you could go home and get some of those donuts you made, then bring them back and we can watch Spy Kids 2!”
“Jeremy.” I swear, I don’t mean for my voice to come out so low, for his name to sound like an angry grumble.
But the single spoken word still pulls two sets of frowning eyes.
“Let her go, bud. Maybe you could toss a ball in her yard tomorrow and scream at the side of her house until she comes out and hands it back.”
He bounds to his feet, whirlwind movements and clumsy hands crashing against her body more than the time I almost arrested her in the dark. Crooking his finger and drawing her closer, he whispers, loudly, “My dad is a policeman, and did you know policemen love donuts?”
Maggie snickers, straightening her back and nodding. “Clichés are clichés for a reason. Maybe I should drop a whole dozen off at the station sometime soon.” Her lips quirk into a smug grin. “But not when your dad is on shift. He didn’t earn my homemade donuts yet.”
“But did I?” His eyes flare wide with panic. “Did I earn one, Maggie? Cos I didn’t mean to squish your flowers with my soccer ball that time. It was an accident, and I told you right away.”
“Your honesty was very brave.” She cups his cheek, melting a little as he leans into her touch like a well-loved kitten. “I’ll save you a donut next time I make a batch.”
“You promise?”
“Promise. I have to go home now though, okay?” She presses a kiss to the tips of her fingers, then presses her fingers to his forehead. “Catch you tomorrow, maybe.”
He stumbles back a step, dreamy-eyed and head over heels, straight up stupidly in love with the woman he didn’t know a month ago. “You should take your fortune cookie.” He goes to the couch and takes one of the three, setting it in her palm. “It’s gonna be good luck.”
“Thank you.” She collects her folder and pen and carefully places her cookie on top, then she winks and makes her way to our front door. “Goodnight, Jeremy.” She peeks my way. “Goodnight, Wilbert.”
I firm my lips and follow her all the way to the door. I grip the handle in my palm and stare at her back as she skips down my porch steps and strolls toward the shadows between our yards.
“Hey, Magnolia?”
Damn it, Billy. Shut up!
She pauses just six feet before her boundary garden and peeks back with a smile. “Hmm?”
“Goodbye.” Shut up, shut up, shut up! “Lock up on your way in.”
Her cheeks warm with a stunning blush that makes her gaze drop to the grass. Bringing a hand up, she tucks her hair back and nods. “Goodbye.”
“Come on.” The instant her front door closes with her safely tucked inside, I grab my son’s head and yank him back through ours. “You’re smooth, Rico Suave. But you got that from me.”
He stumbles inside, his brows furrowed over puzzled eyes. “What’s a Rico Swar-veh?”
“You. What’s up with touching her hair, anyway? That’s an invasion of her personal space.”
“It’s pretty.” He flashes a wide grin that spreads to the wrinkles fanning across his nose. “Plus, it smells good, too. Here.” He snatches up the remaining two fortune cookies and lobs mine across the room, nailing me square in the chest with it.
Exhaling a tired sigh, I peel it open and crack the cookie in half. Fisting both pieces, since I know Jeremy will want them, I unfold my tiny sheet of paper and purse my lips.
“Confucius says: He who has hope, has everything.”
Rolling my eyes, I glance across and watch Jeremy drop pieces of shattered cookie to the floor, only to sweep each morsel up again and shove them in his mouth.
“What does yours say?”
Chewing noisily, he pinches the paper between uncoordinated fingers. He frowns. He chews. Then, he thrusts his hand in my direction. “Says I’m talented.”
“Really?” I cross the room and take it from him. Turning it around, I read the line and grin. “The world will soon be ready to receive your talents. Jesus.” I meet his eyes. “What more talents must we witness? You’re already so accomplished.”
He grunts in the back of his throat, an ‘erdunno’ only a parent could translate around mashed cookie, then he flops onto the couch, un-pauses the movie, and resumes his diet of prawn chips and rice, one single grain at a time.