CHAPTER TWENTY
Scott
Now
“Scott.” Carrie stared around the house in horror. Melinda stood behind her, her eyes comically wide. “What the hell have you done?”
I looked around. It couldn’t really be that bad. She was being dramatic.
Then I looked around the downstairs with fresh eyes, seeing what they were seeing. “Oh.” I made a face. “I didn’t realize it looked so bad.”
“How?” Melinda sounded shocked.
I ran a hand through my hair. “God. I don’t know.
Maybe it’s because my wife is in a fucking coma, I have six kids that I didn’t know that I didn’t know,” I said, thinking I probably wasn’t making much sense.
“I have no idea how to relate to them or even comfort them. I feel… useless in almost every way.”
I could tell from the looks on their faces that any sympathy they’d felt for me had been used up.
Carrie wasn’t pulling any punches. “In what way are you not useless?”
I didn’t even take offense. “Food. I’m keeping them fed.”
Melinda cocked an eyebrow and tossed her purse on a nearby chair. “It’s like a war zone, Scott. You can’t just leave it like this. If you can’t handle it, then hire someone. This is ridiculous.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I probably need to do that.”
Carrie ignored us. “Where are my babies?”
“In here,” Sutton called, and I almost groaned. My oldest child would love nothing more than to throw me to the wolves. “Come look what we’re eating, Aunt Carrie.”
Shit.
“Oh, I intend to,” she called back. Then she lowered her voice when she looked at me. “I just have to see what you’re feeding them this time if you’re feeling so good about it.”
I held my head high. They’d be so surprised when they saw how well the kids were eating. I walked them in and gestured to the table. I frowned when I realized they were eating off paper plates or straight from the casserole dishes some of the church ladies had brought by.
Melinda sniffed the air. “What the fuck is that smell?”
Sammy gasped.
Selene gave him a hard eye roll. “Sam. Really? Dad cusses all the time. Aren’t you over the shock yet?”
Carrie tried to hide a smile at that. “How old are you really, Selene? There’s no way you’re not a secret thirty-five-year-old.”
Melinda laughed. “You’re saying she’s more mature than you or I?”
“Not a doubt in my mind,” Carrie said.
“Now that’s been established, let’s get back to this weird smell. What the hell are y’all eating?” She stared down at the table with disgust.
“Breakfast casserole,” I said, defending myself.
“Who made it?” Melinda wrinkled her nose.
“I don’t know. One of the casserole ladies.”
Carrie and Melinda gave me the exact same disappointed look. “Casserole ladies? The food you’ve been feeding them is…”
“Either takeout or from the casserole ladies,” Sean said, shoveling some in his mouth. “It’s great, huh?”
“That’s not the adjective I would use,” Melinda tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder and pulled a fork out of Sammy’s hands. “Come on buddy. Let’s go find some yogurt and granola.”
Sammy shook his head sadly. “Daddy is not a master of the grocery store.” He said it as if it was an official title people earned after passing a grocery store class.
Which, let’s be honest, I would totally fail.
“What the actual fuck does that mean, Scott?” Melinda’s hands went to her hips. Her eyes were flashing, and I took a step back. I usually wasn’t scared of anyone. But Melinda? She was mildly terrifying when she was angry.
“I haven’t really figured out their shelving system,” I said nervously. “It’s pretty complex.”
Melinda stared at me like I was stupid. “You don’t know how to shop in a grocery store?” She lowered her voice and leaned in. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Carrie leaned closer to one of the serving dishes and stared at it. She grabbed a fork—a plastic one from those packets you get with takeout—and poked at it. “Oh my God.”
“What?” I asked, starting to worry.
“This is Mrs. Humboldt’s goulash,” she whispered, going pale.
“Drop your forks!” Melinda yelled. She stared at Sean who was still going for another bite. “Put. It. Down.”
He dropped his fork.
“What’s wrong with her… goulash?” I whispered.
“Mrs. Humboldt,” Carrie said dramatically, “isn’t Hungarian!”
I blinked. “Um… I’m not sure what that means.”
Melinda rolled her eyes. “Sophia, tell him.”
“Goulash is traditional Hungarian dish.” She eyed her plate fearfully.
“That’s… I mean are you trying to say she can’t make goulash simply because she’s not Hungarian? Don’t you think that’s a bit racist?”
“Oh, it’s not just because she’s not Hungarian.
” Melinda’s face was grim. “It’s because somehow, fifty or so years ago, she decided goulash actually meant ‘a mix of whatever you have on hand.’ She literally takes whatever is in her pantry, fridge, or freezer that is about to go bad and mixes it with rice.
Then she tops it with cheese and calls it her specialty. ”
“It’s never the same twice,” Carrie shuddered.
“And there’s nothing special about it,” Sutton said. “I’ve got to bounce. I’m not eating that shit. I’ll just grab something on the way to school.”
“Young lady,” I said brusquely, “You need to watch your language. And who are you going to school with today? I’ve already told you, no more rides from boys.”
“Whatever, Scott,” she snarked at me and opened the door.
“Sutton!” Melinda’s voice came out like a shot, and my scary teenage daughter faced my wife’s scary friend. I wondered who would win. “First, get your ass in the kitchen and put five bucks in the swear jar.”
Sutton gaped at her. “Aunt Mel? You cuss literally all the time.”
“And I’m grown. You’re not, no matter what you think. Go!” she barked when she thought Sutton was taking too long.
“Jeez,” Sutton said, but I noticed she didn’t roll her eyes or argue.
Carrie was on the phone with someone. “What do you mean none of the kids have any money on their cafeteria account?” Her eyes shot to mine.
Shit.
Sutton came back out and started to walk to the door. Melinda narrowed her eyes. “Who’s taking you to school?”
Sutton colored. “Um… Tommy Hannigan.”
“HA!” Melinda’s yell made everyone jump, especially Sutton. “The hell you are. Do you know how many girls have sat in my class at school and cried over that loser? I guarantee you he’s going to end up running carnival rides for a living. He’s dumb as a box of rocks and treats people like garbage.”
“Should you say that about one of your students, Aunt Melinda?” Spencer asked, eyes wide.
“When it’s true? Yes! And when he’s about to put the moves on your older sister… who has apparently lost her damn mind.” Melinda glared at Sutton.
I found myself grinning, thrilled to see my girl put in her place so thoroughly. It proved it could be done.
The doorbell rang.
Melinda whipped the door open.
“Sutton, baby, I can’t wait…” his eyes widened, and I could swear he went pale. “Oh God. It’s you. I… uh. I was just leaving.”
Melinda, who stood about five-four in her highest heels, pointed up at the muscle-bound guy. He was at least six-four. “You’re damn straight you are,” she hissed. “And if I see you anywhere around Sutton again? You’re going to find out just what happens when I lose my temper.”
No joke, this huge guy went totally pale and practically fell over his own feet as he was trying to get to his Jeep as quickly as possible.
I’d always wondered how tiny, beautiful women could hold their own in a high school classroom full of jocks.
I would never doubt that power dynamic again.
“Come on, guys,” Carrie said. “Aunt Mel and I will take you to school. I’m going to put money on all of your cafeteria accounts. You can eat breakfast and lunch there until your mom gets better, okay?”
She gave me a nasty look as she led the children out of the house like a mother duck with her ducklings.
“Pathetic. You should be better than this by now.” Melinda’s parting shot was effective.
I waited until the door closed before sinking down at the table. I wanted to put my head in my hands and cry. But after all the tears I’d cried over my beautiful Blair laying in that coma? I had none left.
My stomach rumbled. Absentmindedly, I picked up one of the plastic forks and took a bite of the casserole.
I spit it right back out. “What the fuck?” I ran to the sink to wash my mouth out. That was the nastiest damn thing I’d ever tasted.
I’d decided Mrs. Humboldt had a secret wish to wipe out the entire town with a severe case of food poisoning so she could take control.
I sighed and rubbed my face. I knew Carrie had come back to check in on me. If anything, things had gone worse this time. Not better.
How did Blair handle all of this?