Chapter 31
brUCE
“Yeah, it’s fine. We’re good,” I tell Brody. Through my phone, he grunts, and I take from that the approval he meant for me to hear.
“I believe you, but the Bennetts are like vultures, man. They’re picking at me .
. . pick, pick, pick with questions, and Mama Louise is listening to every word.
She’s like a damn spy, popping up where you least expect her with that knowing look.
Reminds me of Mom when we’d fucked up but hadn’t been caught .
. . yet. And the worst of it is our own damn sister. Shayanne won’t quit asking me shit.”
He sounds every bit the beleaguered older brother that he is.
He’s been a good one, taking care of all of us for a long time, even when Dad was still alive.
I’m glad he’s got less on his shoulders now.
Maybe he won’t be such an ass, I think with a slight grin, imagining a nicer version of my older brother.
Nope, can’t do it. He is what he is, a grunty bastard who’s almost as bad as me. Or as bad as I was.
He’s still talking while I’ve zoned out, listing questions that apparently everyone is asking. I tune back in as he growls in a voice pretty similar to my own, “Questions that are your fucking job to answer, not mine.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll be home later and have a damn family meeting or whatever the Bennetts do to handle stuff like this. Because you know they’ve got a tradition or something. They always do. We’ll probably have to sit under the tree and sing Kumbaya or some shit.”
I’m not as grumpy about the situation as I sound.
Really, the family stuff the Bennetts do reminds me of the bonds they have.
We used to do family stuff when Mom was alive, but those traditions are all but gone save a few, like birthday pancake breakfast with whipped cream and sprinkles.
I look down at the plate in front of me, imagining covering it with ooey-gooey sweetness and serving it up to Allyson with an off-key song.
The idea has merit, and I bet Cooper would get a kick out of it.
Brody chuckles darkly. “Negative, brother. You, your girl, and the kid are expected at dinner tonight. If you’re a smart man, you won’t show up without them.
Shayanne has Mama Louise, Katelyn, and Sophie whipped up into a frenzy.
Luke did you a solid and shut Shayanne up for a bit .
. . we won’t discuss how . . . but the man’s got limits.
” He throws his voice high, mimicking our drawling sister, “How did I never even know about Allyson if she was this important to Bruce?” In his own deep timbre, he says, “I tried telling her she was a kid, even told her I didn’t know much about the details from back then, but she’s not having it.
I’m afraid she’s about to be all up in your business, with the rest of the crew as backup, so you’d best get ready. ”
I’m man enough to admit that I flinch a bit. Shayanne is intense and bull-headed, downright ornery when she wants to be. Mama Louise is that sweet but silent type you simply can’t disappoint. The rest of them, the Bennett boys and their women and my brothers, I can handle just fine.
“We’ll be there.” I hang up with my brother, chuckling to myself.
“What?” Allyson asks suspiciously, one brow raised in curiosity. She didn’t get much from my side of the conversation since the usually succinct Brody was feeling all Chatty Cathy for a change.
“Apparently, you’re coming to dinner with the family tonight.
” The look on her face is one I wish I could frame—shock and surprise, fear and horror, delight and hope all blended together, but I can see each emotion as it treks across her face.
I know her last dinner with the whole gang wasn’t the best, so hopefully, this one will be better.
“Mama Louise saw the whole thing yesterday, along with the whole family who was there for the first game. Brody’s been running interference for me, especially with Shayanne, but if I don’t show for dinner tonight, along with you and Cooper, he won’t be able to stop her. ”
Allyson laughs lightly. “You sound scared. Of Mama Louise? I mean, she’s this tiny little thing. I’ve seen her mom glare, and it’s on-point, but I don’t know if I’d go so far as to say she’s scary. Or are you terrified of your baby sister?”
I take a slug of orange juice and talk around my mouthful of pancakes. “You’d be surprised by how scary both of them can be.”
I’m saved by having to confess to any more male ego-crushing facts by a knock on the door.
“That’ll be Michelle with Cooper,” Allyson says as she passes me. Well, as she tries to. I grab her arm and spin her into my lap as she hoots, but when I cup her cheek, the surprise turns sweet with her smile. “What?”
“Just wanted one more kiss before Cooper comes in because I get the feeling he’s a cockblocker.” She laughs, and I swallow the sound as I meld my lips over hers.
She presses lightly at my chest and I let her go. She heads to the door looking a bit flushed and a lot happy. That’s my girl.
Cooper comes in like a whirlwind with Michelle following behind, looking curious. I think her plan is to read the room and go from there, either eviscerating me or celebrating that we’ve got our shit straight. I’m glad it’s the latter.
“Coach B, are you still gonna coach us?” Cooper looks mad as hell, so much fury in his tiny fists, and the words are his little-boy version of a growl.
It’s fucking adorable. I make a note to remind myself of how cute I find it now because I suspect it won’t be nearly as endearing when he’s a pissy teenager.
Hopefully, he’ll still be into football.
I know how to steer that aggression from personal experience.
Allyson jumps in to answer her son. “Of course he is.” But she pauses at the anger she sees in his eyes. “Uh, do you want him to?”
I give her credit for not asking in a leading fashion but rather in a way that says she’s open to whatever he thinks and feels. She’s a damn good mom.
Cooper walks over to me, meeting my eyes man to man.
“Liam and Ms. Michelle told me what happened after Mom and me left. Did you really beat up Killian’s dad?
” His little lips are puffed out, but he doesn’t seem to be pouting, more like he’s got so many words in his mouth, he doesn’t know how to get them all out.
I lay a hand on his shoulder, careful to be gentle with the kid. “I did. I’m not proud of it, and fighting should never be the first resort. It’s the last resort after using your words. Killian’s dad . . .”
I pause, trying to figure out how to say he’s a drunk with an asshole streak in a kid-friendly way.
“Well, he wasn’t thinking very clearly so he said some mean things.
I tried to talk to him, your mom tried to talk to him, the referee tried to talk to him, but he wasn’t listening.
He threw the first punch . . . which sounds like a stupid excuse but is important.
You don’t start shit, but you can finish it, especially if someone’s in danger. ”
I realize a beat too late that while I censored myself about Kyle, I cursed in front of the kid.
Not cool, asshole, I tell myself. But no one even reacts.
I still need to be more careful in front of Cooper, though.
Mama Louise will be proud, probably a bit shocked, too, if I can clean up my foul mouth, and it’s definitely the better choice if I’m going to be hanging out with pipsqueaks all the time.
He nods sagely like my fucked-up wisdom means something to him. “Like my mom.” He turns to look at her and I mirror the action. Her cheeks are pink from watching the interaction between us. One side is just slightly redder, but there’s no purple hint, no bruise coloring. “He hit you.”
Allyson nods. “He did. Killian’s dad didn’t mean to hit me. He was aiming for Bruce and it was an accident. But it was wrong. I’m okay, though, unless you wanna kiss it better? I’ll totally take a boo-boo fixer kiss.” She smiles over-exaggeratingly as she points at the affected cheek.
Cooper rolls his eyes but goes over to kiss Allyson’s cheek. “There. All better, Mom. But coaches can’t fight. It’s in the code of conduct rulebook. So are they gonna fire you, Coach B?” Of course, he’s read the rulebook. Like mother, like son.
“Honestly, Cooper, I don’t know. If they let me coach, I’ll be right there on the sidelines, doing my best to help the Wildcats do their best. If they won’t, then I’ll be in the bleachers cheering like a maniac.
” I hold my big fists up in the air, waving invisible pompoms around and sing-songing, “Go Team!”
His eyes drop, and in his shoes, I can see his toes wiggling. “You’d still come? Even if you weren’t the coach?”
“Absolutely. Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.
If it’s okay with you for me to come?” I don’t know if I’ve ever been on a hook this hard before.
My entire future with Allyson rests on this kid wanting me to come around.
If he’s scared from the fight or just flat doesn’t like me, she’ll never be with me and I won’t get the chance to be here with her and Cooper.
Insta-fucking-family, just like Bobby said. And damn, do I want it.
Cooper looks confused over why I’d even ask. “Of course I want you to come watch. You gotta see me make my first touchdown.” He throws his arms up over his head, cheering for himself for the imaginary score.
Michelle, who’s been watching the whole exchange with a careful smile, finally grins. “All right, you guys, I’m out. I told the sitter I’d only be a minute.” She holds up both hands, waving ’bye to us all.
But she sends a whole conversation’s worth of eyes to Allyson. Even though I’m not fluent in their silent language, I can read the ‘tell me everything later’ and ‘I’m happy for you.’
Once she’s gone, the three of us settle in for pancakes. Allyson has to pop them in the microwave, but none of us mind. It feels quaint, which is a word I wouldn’t even know if I hadn’t had to get a tutor for English in high school.
Such a small thing from so long ago, but it set everything so off course. As I look around the table now, though, I can feel the course correction, that everything is finally as it should be.
“So, what’s the plan for today?” I say, already knowing the answer but happy to set Cooper up for the answer.
“Bless this house!” he hollers with more excited celebration than dusting should ever get.
I smile, stuffing a forkful of pancakes into my mouth. “I remember where the vacuum is, so we’ll get to it after breakfast.”
From my vantage point of the doorway, I can see the whole kitchen. Allyson is with Mama Louise and Shayanne, dipping chicken into egg wash and flour, and Sophie is feeding Cindy Lou some green mush while supervising Cooper. He’s very carefully cutting tomatoes in half for the salad.
He’s doing a great job, so maybe I was being a bit overly protective when I told Mama Louise that she could not give an eight-year-old a knife.
She’d smiled sweet as she could be while showing me the special knife she’d bought just for Cooper.
It’s kid-friendly, blunt-tipped, and bright neon yellow like a highlighter.
She’d been ready. She’d known he was gonna be here.
There’s a real chance that she might be psychic. Brody and Bobby disagree with me on that, but the Bennett boys just smile like they know something I don’t. Fuckers.
Speaking of, not that I said that part out loud in Mama Louise’s kitchen, James comes up behind me. He’s the craziest of his brothers, always ready with a kind smile and more often than not, a dirty joke. “There’s my girls,” he says happily.
I look at Sophie and Cindy Lou, who’s currently green-faced, but at least Sophie’s not wearing any of it, so that’s progress.
“Oh, shit,” James says quietly, smacking my arm with the back of his hand.
I glare down at him. Not much, he’s tall too, but nothing like me. “What?”
He’s looking at Allyson, Mama Louise, and Shayanne like he’s seeing ghosts. “Are they making fried chicken?”
“Duh,” I say, not getting why it’s a big deal when we have fried chicken at least two or three times a month. It’s not even his favorite, which I know from seeing how much roast he takes every time Mama Louise makes one.
James flashes me the biggest shit-eating grin I’ve ever seen on his face, and that’s saying something. “You don’t know, do you?”
I lift my brows sardonically. There’s a lot of shit around this house I don’t know, but it’s usually not anything that warrants this.
Mark and Katelyn come in the back door, interrupting whatever James was about to say. Instead, he looks to them and whispers, “Mama’s making fried chicken with Allyson.”
Katelyn’s eyes go as big as saucers, and Mark’s lips twitch like he’s fighting off a grin. He says softly, “Did you tell him yet?”
I’m done with this shit and growl, “Tell me what?”
The brothers don’t speak, enjoying letting me twist on the hook too much, but Katelyn takes pity on me.
“Mama Louise doesn’t make fried chicken with just anybody.
There are only three people in the whole wide world she will do that with, actually.
Though I guess there’s four now, each of us standing in this room. ”
They watch the realization dawn on my face with glee, and I look over to see Mama Louise inspecting me carefully. She waits a long beat, during which I feel judged, analyzed, and evaluated, before she gives me a small flour-coated thumbs-up.
I’m honestly not sure if it’s approval that I’ve chosen Allyson or that Allyson has chosen me. But it’s a stamp of approval, one I realize I hold in high regard. Mama Louise is a smart woman, maybe too smart for our own good, but she’s made something special here with our motley ragtag crew.
I meet her eyes, telling her what I can silently, and dip my chin in appreciation. She smiles sweetly and goes right back to helping dip another chicken leg in egg wash like nothing happened.
But something did happen.
We just became a family in my eyes. All of us—Bennetts, Tannens, and Meyerses. Though I wonder how long it’ll be before I can change Allyson and Cooper’s names? Or hell, I’m progressive enough that if Allyson wants me to change my name to match hers, I could do that.
She’s got work stuff to think about, and Cooper might not want to change his name. But we can talk about that, the three of us, and decide for our family.
Because that’s what we are. Our little family of three inside this large mishmash of a clan.