Chapter Fourteen
Chapter
Fourteen
Chicken Montana
I woke, stretched, my wrist hit something, and I
opened my eyes.
It was just dawn, the light coming in from outside was weak,
but I could see I’d knocked the new toothbrush head that Darius had put on his
pillow off said pillow.
I smiled.
Then I looked around, but Darius wasn’t there. The bathroom
door was open, so he must be up already.
I nabbed the toothbrush head, threw the covers back, and in
Darius’s thermal, which I put on after our second round last night (finding
something good about Liam having a whole level to himself, with another one
sandwiched in between), I padded to the bathroom.
I did my business, got dressed and headed downstairs, making
a mental list of what to pack to bring over and wondering if I had time at
lunch to run out and double up on some toiletries.
Once I hit the downstairs, I heard male voices coming from
the kitchen and headed that way.
I stopped in the door.
So much was happening last night, I didn’t get to take a
moment to really watch father and son interact.
Now I saw Liam sitting at a stool at the long island that
was the centerpiece of the big kitchen, eating eggs and bacon and toast with
grape jelly, his back to me, but doing this like he’d lived there all his life,
not just every other week for the last five months.
Darius was standing across from him wearing a long-sleeved
Henley, this one in burnt orange, and jeans.
He had his weight braced into his hands at the edge of the
counter, spread out to the sides, and his gaze on me.
He looked like the master of his domain, which he was, and
that domain he’d created was amazing, like he was.
Liam caught his dad looking at me and peered over his
shoulder my way.
“Carry on,” I said softly. “I want to watch.”
“You’re not going to cry again, are you?” Liam asked.
“I make no promises.”
He shook his head, a smile playing at his lips, and went
back to his food.
“Come in, baby. I’ll make you breakfast before you gotta
head home,” Darius invited.
“’Kay,” I mumbled and wandered in.
I took a seat next to my son.
“Did you get good sleep?” I asked him.
“Dad bought me one of those hybrid mattresses. It’s the shhhh-oot.”
I bumped him with my shoulder and teased, “It’s the shoot?”
“Cussing isn’t such a bad thing, Mom,” Liam informed me.
“Dad and his buds do it all the time.”
My eyes cut to his father.
Darius cracked an egg into a bowl, shrugged and agreed, “It
isn’t.”
“A gentleman doesn’t curse,” I declared.
Father looked to son, son looked to father, and they busted
out laughing.
Oh Lord.
We’d had an equilibrium, with one authority…me.
Now I was outnumbered.
“Are you two going to make a habit of ganging up on me?” I
asked.
“Absolutely,” Liam answered.
“Not on any important stuff, sweetheart,” Darius assured.
“I think cursing is important.”
Darius seemed perplexed.
He sounded it too, when he asked, “Really?”
“Maybe we should talk about this when the boy is not in
attendance,” I suggested sweetly.
Okay, not sweetly.
Fake sweetly.
“You’re still not gonna change my mind. I don’t buy that
shit that swearing shows a lack of intelligence,” Darius retorted. “It just
demonstrates another way the establishment tries to control your behavior by
making random shit wrong, like words.”
“Or sex,” Liam put in.
Darius nodded. “Or sex.”
It felt like my eyes had bugged out of my head.
“We’re definitely talking about this when the boy
is not in attendance,” I decreed.
“We’ve had the talk, baby,” Darius replied. “A couple of
years ago. He’s got condoms.”
I made a cacking noise then my forehead thunked
on the stainless-steel counter because I couldn’t hold it up anymore.
Though, it must be said, I was relieved they’d had the talk.
I hadn’t done it yet because I was committed to the task of avoiding it like
the plague. Not smart for a woman who’d been a teenage mom but cut me some
slack. That stuff wasn’t easy.
And anyway, I’d been secretly hoping my dad or Tony had
stepped in.
Fortunately, Liam’s own father did.
“I think you broke her,” Liam remarked.
“She’ll be fine,” Darius replied, and I heard him whisking
my eggs.
I lifted my head and wheezed, “Coffee.”
“Get your mother a coffee,” Darius ordered.
Liam left his plate and went to the coffeepot.
He then returned with a handsome mug that was a matte
charcoal gray on the outside and a shiny robin’s egg blue porcelain on the
inside.
Right.
Now this was just weird.
I examined the cup then looked to my man. “Is everything in
your house perfect?”
“Aunt Danni and Aunt Gabby bought everything in this place,”
Liam informed me. “They even put together my space. It’s sick.”
“Danni and Gabby?” I whispered to Darius.
Those were his sisters, Danielle and Gabrielle.
“They own an interior design business together,” he shared.
Now this was weird too, but not the good kind.
Because I realized how much I didn’t know. How much I
missed. How much I didn’t ask about.
Even Lena last night knew about “the reserve.”
But I hadn’t even seen it and had just heard about it.
“Don’t go there,” Darius warned, reading my mind.
“It’s impossible not to,” I returned.
“We’ll catch up. Mom’ll have a
dinner. It’ll be all good,” he declared.
“You can’t catch up on eighteen years over a dinner,
Darius,” I informed him.
“You can make a start,” he returned. “All we can do, the
three of us, is take it one step at a time. We’re having breakfast. That’s this
step. Let’s focus on that. You with me?”
“Stop being rational when I’m on the verge of freaking out,”
I snapped.
“Get used to it, sweetheart,” he shot back.
I felt something strange and turned my head to see our son’s
attention was bouncing between his dad and me and his grin was large.
When I witnessed it, I was sure glad I didn’t make any
promises about crying.
Liam saved me by stating, “This is the best fucking
breakfast ever.”
Then he munched into his toast.
My son had just casually dropped the F-bomb in front of me.
I swung a killing look at Darius.
And again, he busted out laughing.
Liam joined him.
I didn’t.
I drank coffee.
I’d gone home, washed yesterday’s makeup off,
showered, dressed, and was on my way to work when the first call came in from
someone I didn’t know.
I had a son who was out in the world, and he had a new car,
which was a muscle car, but even before that I’d lived a life where I knew
anything could happen, so even if this meant I regularly had to hang up on
marketers and scammers, I took the call.
“Hello?”
“Malia! Hey, it’s Indy. We’re putting together a Malia and
Darius Are Together party. Obviously, since you’re one of the people of honor,
you gotta come. Are you free Saturday night?”
“I think so.”
“Perfect. Text me Toni and Lena’s numbers. We have to ask
them. And your folks.”
“Um…okay.”
“So are you moving in with Darius, or is he gonna move in
with you?”
“We haven’t really decided yet,” I semi-lied.
I was definitely moving.
And it wasn’t about the wine cellar I still hadn’t seen, nor
was it about the décor.
It was the fact we’d shared our first breakfast as a family
in his kitchen, even if Liam finished eating well before Darius and me, and it
might be weird, but now, that felt like home.
“Oh?” She sounded disappointed.
“But I’m doubling up on toiletries,” I blurted, because no
one wanted to be disappointing.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Rock on!” she cried.
I couldn’t help it, I laughed.
She hadn’t changed one bit.
And that made me happy.
“I gotta call Ally and tell her. Girl, you can’t know how
thrilled we are for you two. This is the best love story of them all.”
I couldn’t disagree.
“Thanks.”
“And glad to have you back. Missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
“Right, letting you go. We’ll catch up Saturday. Later!”
“Later.”
She hung up.
I was smiling as I finished driving to work.
And when I got to my desk, I programmed Indy’s number into
my phone.
The next call came when I was at the mall, dashing
through the skincare and makeup sections, eating Wetzel Pretzel bites for
lunch, multitasking.
It was another number I didn’t know.
“Hello?”
“Hey, chickie. Ally.”
“Heya, Ally.”
“Were you at?”
“At the mall, doubling up on toiletries.”
“I heard. Righteous,” she said. “Listen, I know we’re on for
the party Saturday night, but you got some time during the day to meet me at
Fortnum’s?”
Fortnum’s.
I’d avoided it for nearly two decades for fear Darius still
went there, and more, because I couldn’t face the happy memories that had
seemed so bittersweet, with emphasis on bitter.
Now they could just be sweet.
I felt something settle in me because I had Indy back, and
Ally back, and I’d have Duke back, and Fortnum’s too.
“I can meet you, what time?”
“Eleven?”
“Works for me. And I didn’t get to ask Indy, but should we
bring anything to the party?”
“Just you and Darius and Liam. The guests of honor don’t
have to contribute. But get your recipes in order. We do this shit a lot.”
Why wasn’t I surprised?
“We’ll bring a bottle anyway.”
“Suit yourself. See you Saturday.”
“See you then.”
I hung up and the saleslady told me my total.
I then fought fainting (one never stocked up on it all, all
at once, but doing so was sobering, it still wasn’t going to deter me from my
products, because I made bank, obviously so did my man, and I deserved them),
and I handed over my credit card.
While she ran it, I programmed Ally’s number into my phone.
When I got out to my car, I shoved it all in my trunk with a
smile.
Because I had to lug it all out there.
But Darius would order Liam to go out and get it when I got
home.
That night, after going to my house and packing, I
drove down the alley behind Darius’s house and used the remote for his garage
he gave me that morning.
But even after the door was completely up, I didn’t pull in.
Because the Charger was in the garage, and the Silverado was
parked in the spot beside it, open to the elements.