Chapter 7
Blair
Why did I leave a basket of laundry outside the laundry room? My pale-pink undies are right there on top as Magnus and I walk past.
I slip out of my heels, sighing happily, and use my foot to ease the basket into the laundry room.
“He’s here!” Coop cries from the living room.
Kid footsteps pound on the wood floors as both boys run into the kitchen.
“Whoa!” Coop takes in Magnus’s tux, looks at me, and then looks back at him. “Are you my mom’s boyfriend?”
Let the humiliation begin. I cringe and jump in to answer before Magnus has to.
“No, we went to an event for the team, remember? Aunt Jules and Noel invited us. There were lots of other players there.”
“You could be her boyfriend if you want,” Coop says. “She doesn’t have one and no one ever takes her out on a date.”
“TMI, Coop,” Chloe says, coming into the kitchen.
I start to get cash from my purse, but she says, “No, my dad already paid me.”
“What? Why?”
“That’s just my dad. He paid for the snacks I brought over, too.” She bends down to hug Coop, and then Eli. “Be good, guys. I had fun tonight.”
“Thanks for quizzing me on spelling words,” Eli says.
“No problem. You’re a better speller than my brother, and he’s in college.”
She stands and says to me, “Can you text me about when his spelling bee is? I want to go if I can.”
“Of course.”
How did I get so lucky? Noel’s children have embraced Jules, me, and my boys so warmly that it already feels like we’re family.
I walk Chloe to the front door, watching until she’s in her car driving away. By the time I turn around, Coop, Eli, and Magnus are all upstairs.
My feet hurt from the heels and it’s been a long day, so I go to my bedroom to change. My groan of satisfaction when I take off the shapewear I’m stuffed into like a roll of sausage is borderline sexual.
I trade my underwire bra for a simple cotton one I can pull on over my head, then put on baggy dark-gray sweats and an old Radiohead T-shirt. If I had cute loungewear, I’d wear it, but I don’t. I take my comfort seriously, and I don’t like lacy little camis and shorts.
After washing my face and taking the many pins out of my hair and letting it down, I go into Coop’s room.
Oh my ovaries.
Magnus is sitting cross-legged on Coop’s bedroom floor, his shoes off. He has laid his jacket on the bed and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, his bow tie undone and hanging loose.
“This is a Feeyari,” Coop says.
I can tell by his grin that Magnus knows it’s a Ferrari. He glances over at me, the quick look turning into a lingering one.
“I’ve turned back into a pumpkin,” I say.
“You still look great.”
Eli is sitting nearby, arranging cars in a line. Coop is the more outgoing of the two, but Eli always likes to be included. I go sit down beside him.
“Did you have a good time with Chloe?” I ask him.
He pushes his glasses up on his nose. “It was fun.”
I can tell from his drooping eyelids that he’s tired. Eli has always been a sleeper, like me. When he was four, he started asking me to close his door at bedtime so he could sleep better.
Coop is the opposite. Getting him down when he was younger was like trying to put a lit firework to bed. He was always popping back up, coming into my bedroom or the living room.
Because he forgot to tell me a kid got in trouble for talking during class that day.
Because he was thirsty. Because he missed me.
Because he wanted to know if frogs poop.
He had endless reasons for not going to sleep, and there were times I slept on the floor beside his bed because I was too tired to keep putting him back to bed.
Eli climbs into my lap and rests his cheek on my chest. He doesn’t want to go to bed before his little brother in front of Magnus. I kiss the top of his head.
“After Coop shows Magnus his room, I’ll read you guys a chapter of our book,” I say.
“But he just got here!”
“My dude, it’s almost eleven thirty p.m.,” I say. “Only one of us has the energy level of a squirrel, and it’s not me.”
“We can have a sleepover,” he says. “Then we can play cars in the morning. We can make a tent and sleep there.”
“Coop. I don’t think Magnus wants to sleep on the floor in his tuxedo.”
“Come on.” Coop gives Magnus a pleading look. “I promise it’ll be fun. My mom will make cinnamon roll pancakes in the morning.”
Magnus gives him that lopsided grin that makes my stomach flip. “I don’t want to spring an unexpected overnight guest on your mom like that.”
“She doesn’t mind! Right, Mom?”
“It’s not that I mind. But he doesn’t have pajamas or anything.”
“It doesn’t matter. Just say yes, Mom.”
I glance at Magnus, wishing he’d say he can’t stay. But he’s quiet.
“It’s not that I’m saying no,” I say.
“Can I tell you something, Coop?” Magnus asks, saving me from finishing.
“Yeah, sure.”
“A grown-up who isn’t your family shouldn’t be staying in your bedroom with you.”
Coop frowns. “Why not?”
“It’s just not something good grown-ups do. If your mom is okay with it, I’ll sleep on the couch tonight while you sleep in your bed, and we can play cars in the morning.”
I’m floored by the way he explained that—looking out for my boy but not telling him anything that isn’t age-appropriate.
“He’s right,” I say. “If a grown-up tries to be alone with you in a bedroom, or anywhere else, and you feel uncomfortable, you should leave as fast as you can.”
Coop nods. I talk to my boys about stranger danger often because Jules and I were raised by an alcoholic mother who left us with people she barely knew when we were young. No one ever made us feel like we had any power in those situations.
I’m protective of my boys. I never want them to feel as scared or unsafe as I sometimes did as a kid.
“Okay, let’s do a chapter in Eli’s bed,” I say, talking to my sons.
“You can come, too,” Coop says, taking Magnus’s hand.
Magnus is a good sport, sitting on the floor beside Eli’s bed with Coop while I sit beside Eli in his bed and read the next chapter of the book we’re currently on, a Percy Jackson one.
Eli’s asleep before the end of the chapter, so I put the bookmark in and gently ease myself out of his bed. Magnus, Coop and I tiptoe back into Coop’s room, where I sit down on the edge of his bed to tuck him in.
“Did you brush your teeth?” I ask him.
He nods.
“Did you?” I give him a stern look.
“Smell my breath.” He opens his mouth and I give it a quick sniff.
“Okay.” I tuck the covers around him. “You need to go to sleep, for real.”
“I will.”
I hug him and say, “Good night, bug. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Magnus offers him a fist bump.
“If you wake up first, come wake me up,” Coop says.
“I will.”
Once we’re out of the room and back down the hallway, I give Magnus an apologetic look.
“I’m sorry you got roped into staying all night,” I whisper.
“I don’t mind,” he whispers back. “But I do have to be at practice at eight thirty in the morning.”
“It’s okay.”
“We’ll get in some car time before I go,” he says.
When I get to the bottom of the stairs, my skin tingles with awareness as he follows me into the living room.
“We have a guest room. Why don’t you stay in there?” He shakes his head. “I don’t mind the couch.”
“I’ll get you a pillow and blanket.”
I grab the extra pillow from my bed, which has a pink satin pillowcase and a fluffy white blanket. When I get back to the living room, our cat is purring in Magnus’s arms and he’s standing next to the couch.
“That’s Dong,” I say. “He might sleep on you tonight.”
“Dong?”
“I know. It’s a cartoon robot’s name or something, and my boys were set on it. So ... yeah.”
His lips curve up slightly, crinkles forming in the corners of his eyes. “You’re a great mom.”
His words are the opposite of flippant. He’s intently focused on me, his compliment hitting me harder than I would have expected it to. I know I’m a great mom, but it’s not often I hear those words from anyone other than my boys, and it feels good.
“Thank you.”
I put the pillow down on the end of the couch, my heart racing. Then I set the blanket on top of it and say, “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
It’s good that only I know how tingly I am right now, because it’s embarrassing. I’m normally quick and quippy, but I hold myself back with him. If I didn’t, I’d be telling him that blanket is one lucky motherfucker because it gets to lie on top of him.
“I’m going to bed,” I say.
Want to come knock some holes through my wall with the headboard?
“I had fun tonight. Good night, Blair.”
“Good night. Let me know if you need anything.”
There’s no way he’s thinking what I’m thinking when I say it. But what a night it would be if he was.