Three #2
“Okay.” I laughed at him.
“Okay, like okay?”
“Okay like I’ll drive it for a month and see what’s what.”
“It has a stellar safety rating.”
“The car costs more than I made last year.”
“With all the added bells and whistles? Yes, probably.”
“Aaron—”
“You have never ever let me do a thing for you in years of friendship. Perhaps just this once, since it’s not just for you and the insurance will pay for a third of it easily …”
“I’ll see what Sam says.”
“Good.” He smiled at me. “Now, so you know, everything’s done. The registration will come in the mail, but you have copies in the glove compartment in that zippered pouch, yes?”
“And the insurance?”
“Is there.”
“You transferred my insurance from my old van to this new one?”
“Not exactly.”
I squinted at him. “What does that mean?”
“Just … call me when you get back from your reunion thing next week, and in the meantime, I’ll send all the information for the art auction over to Dylan and Fal.”
“Okay, step back.”
He moved, and I got out and lunged at him. “Thank you.”
He groaned like he was annoyed. “This display of appreciation is so—”
“Needed,” I told him as I hugged him tight.
I parked out front of Sam’s parents’ house, and since he had no idea what I was driving, I was certain Sam wouldn’t know I was there.
Aaron had said he’d call him, and so for once, I wasn’t going to try to manage their friendship—or whatever it was called when an ex and the love of your life tried to be friends because the person they both cared about was in the middle.
After walking around the house to the backyard, I went in through the door that opened into the kitchen.
The pot roast smelled fantastic, and there were dinner rolls cooling on the stove.
Moving through the room, I walked to the swinging door and out into the dining room.
I could hear the music from the living room and went to see.
I found Hannah entertaining everyone as she danced with Sam’s sister Jen’s daughters, one a teenager at fourteen, the other twelve.
The thing was, Whitney Houston was belting out “It’s Not Right But It’s Okay,” and Hannah was way too familiar with that tune not to sing it along with her.
It was on my iPod, which I usually played when I dropped my kids off in the morning or picked them up.
The best part though was not that she knew all the words, which she actually didn’t, but that she was the only one keeping the beat as she danced.
She was jumping and moving her hands, the cardiovascular workout daunting.
She tipped her head back and forth, she waggled her finger, and she stopped when the music did.
She could not have been any cuter, and when she sang the chorus, everyone howled.
Picking it right back up, she started bouncing again, and her cousins gave up, unable to match her style or energy.
When the song ended and everyone clapped, she shrieked with happiness before bolting over to her grandmother and hurling herself into Regina’s arms.
“That was so good, pumpkin,” she cooed over my kid.
“I’m the best dancer in my class.”
“I’m sure you are.” She laughed, still not seeing me.
“I’m sure she is.” Some guy I didn’t know snickered under his breath. “Having two daddies—how could she not be?”
I was in the doorway, standing off to the side, out of view, not really in the room, but even from where I was, I felt the chill in the air.
“What?” Regina’s voice cracked like a whip as she turned to the man. “What did you say?”
“Michael,” the voice of Thomas Kage, Sam’s father, boomed through the space, “your friend—what is the name again?”
“Noah.”
“Yes, Noah—he can’t stay for dinner. Take him out of my house.”
Like a dog. Take him out.
“Uncle Michael.”
He was distracted by my daughter, but it was hard for him to look away from his father.
“Uncle Michael.”
“Yes, B?” he answered, finally giving her his attention.
“Where’s Auntie Bev? I miss her,” she said, inquiring as to the whereabouts of Michael’s glamorous wife.
How or why, I had no idea, but Hannah and her aunt got along famously.
It was odd because most children were too messy, too sticky, or too loud for Beverly Kage.
She liked everything just so—from her makeup to her nails to the handbag she carried.
But all that fell by the wayside when it came to Hannah.
She doted on her niece, allowed herself to be hugged, even if something that was on Hannah would rub off on her.
The whole thing made Regina rethink her impression from earlier in her son and daughter-in-law’s marriage—that motherhood and Beverly were not suited.
Regina had hope when she saw Beverly with my daughter.
“She had a meeting tonight, B, but she’ll be on the plane with you tomorrow.”
“Okay.” She beamed at him.
“Hey,” I heard Sam call as he came through the front door. “Anybody home?”
“Daddy!” Hannah squealed and tore across the room to him, leaping like a spider monkey toward him, arms and legs outstretched.
He caught her effortlessly and lifted her up high so she could do the airplane pose as she giggled like crazy.
“Sam,” Regina called to him as she rose and stalked across the room.
“Wait,” Noah recanted, turning to Michael. “I’m so—I didn’t mean any—”
“Let’s just go,” Sam’s brother sighed, turning as I stepped into the room. “Jory.”
All eyes on me. Silence.
It only took Sam a moment.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Hannah was held now against his chest, one little arm around his neck and her other hand fiddling with the collar of his dress shirt. “That man thinks because I have two daddies, that’s why I dance good.”
Before I’d had kids, I’d had no idea that children had selective supersonic hearing.
I always assumed that they heard based on the regular laws of physics.
But it wasn’t true. If you said something stupid—as Michael’s guest just had—if you mentioned dessert but didn’t mean to, or if you swore as you stubbed your toe, all these things would carry instantly to their small ears.
However, requests to pick up their rooms, directions to brush their teeth, and inquiries as to who had thrown the ball that knocked over the vase in the living room …
normally, these questions had to be shouted before being heard.
So, I was not surprised in the least that my daughter had heard every word that was uttered under Michael’s friend’s breath, even over the pop classic.
Noah, however, was stunned. I was guessing he was not a parent, or he might have known better.
Sam’s eyes went cold and hard the instant Hannah uttered the words.
“But it’s not true.” She beamed at him. “ ’Cause Kola can’t dance, and he has you and Pa too. So, that’s not right, is it, Daddy?”
“No, B, that’s not right.”
You could hear the antique mantel clock ticking.
“Pa!” she shrieked when she realized I was there.
“Hi, B.” I waved at her.
She gave a violent dolphin twist, and Sam put her down. In an instant, she was across the room to me. I bent and grabbed her, and when I lifted her up, her head went down on my shoulder, her little arms around my neck as she snuggled. I rubbed her back and heard her sigh.
“I’m really so sorry,” the friend said to me, stepping close. “I didn’t mean anything.”
“Sure.” I smiled at him before turning to Thomas. “We could just let it go, couldn’t we?”
Sam’s father studied my face. We both knew I was asking permission for Noah to stay. If Thomas Kage gave an order, everybody had to listen.
“I’m okay. Are you okay?”
He grunted and gave me a quick nod, and I looked to Regina.
“I’m starving, and that pot roast smells amazing. Did you make the red potatoes?”
“I did.” She hesitated for a minute before moving fast, hands on my face when she reached me. Then she kissed my cheek. “And I made the monkey bread you like, along with the rolls.”
“Heaven.”
Her brows furrowed as she studied me. “Were you in a fight?”
I shrugged. “It’s nothing. It doesn’t even hurt.”
From the look on her face, I could tell she was not convinced.
“Sam,” I called over to him, needing the backup.
“He’s okay, Mom,” he vouched for me. “I promise.”
She lit up with relief; it was easy to see that she loved me. “I have your itinerary.”
“Which is why Sam and I came for dinner.”
Rachel, Sam’s other sister, made a kissing noise as Regina told everyone to get to the table.
“You’re just jealous,” I hissed at her.
“Of what? You having to kiss my mother’s ass?” she whispered back, making her eyes huge for me. “You think?”
I laughed at her, and Jen did as well as she walked over and rubbed Hannah’s head.
“Your daughter is an angel.”
“Yeah, I know.” I smiled at her. “Where’s my boy?”
“In the playroom with Peter and Riley.” Rachel answered me with a yawn. “My kids love watching their cousins.”
“And even if they didn’t, you’d make them do it anyway.”
“Yeah. So?”
“You’re so bad. Do they want to go to the reunion at this point?” I asked her.
She shook her head. “No, but I guilted them into it. I told them if they didn’t go, then they obviously loved their stepmother more than their mother.”
“Rachel,” I scolded her.
“What? Dean decides to divorce me and marry a woman in her mid-twenties, and I’m supposed to be the grown-up? Did I tell you she’s pregnant?”
“Oh shit,” I said before I thought about it.
“Daddy! Pa said a bad word!”
“You’re such a narc,” I told my daughter, pinching her butt through her leggings and underwear.
It was nice that even at night now, she wore panties—her potty training was finally and completely done. We still had the occasional accident, but that was to be expected, especially if she was overtired.
“Daddy!”