Chapter 17 #2
Something about that scenario sounds kind of appealing right now. I’m right where I should be.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I promise.
We stayed up only for a little bit, recalling our own teenage years, which caused us to come to the same conclusion that we were both kind of wild.
We fell asleep on the couch, which is for the best, as it appears more platonic, in case Connor was looking for more evidence.
Now, we’ve been up for an hour thanks to Wyatt who decided seven is the ideal time to wake on the weekends.
He’s bouncing on my lap as we sit at the dining table with his craft box. Wyatt is drawing with a thick crayon, while I fold paper and create a few origami animals for him. Occasionally, I glance up to watch Violet tidying up the kitchen, and to be honest, I kind of enjoy this whole setup.
I mean, even Wyatt’s plate of cut-up toasted waffles and fruit were kind of tasty when he decided to feed me a few bites.
The feeling of wet slobber on my thigh brings my attention to Puck who just delivered his tennis ball to me… for the hundredth time.
“Hey, Vi, what’s up with this dog? He won’t stop chasing the ball.”
“Well, he is a retriever. But you’re right, and Ford is training him for some competition.” Violet walks to the table with two fresh mugs of coffee. “Here you go, my superhero.”
“Thanks.”
This is a nice little routine. I don’t remember my parents ever being this way. I mean, they love one another, but my dad’s head would always be buried behind a newspaper while my mother looked on. It was never everyone at a table doing something together. Hell, even the dog wants in on the action.
Violet grabs a sheet of paper and attempts to fold, but then gives up. “I’ll leave it to the pros. Anyway, I can’t thank you enough.”
“No problem. Are you going to tell Ford?” I wonder.
Her eyes flick to mine. “About us?”
I gently shake my head. “Connor,” I clarify.
She sighs. “It’s the responsible thing to do since he was drinking. I might leave out a few details. This will for sure take me down a notch on my nephew’s cool list.”
“And… about us?”
The tip of her tongue hits her upper lip. “I don’t think Ford would think us being together is a good thing unless we are together-together. No brother wants to hear about the friend with benefits, especially if it’s with their friend.”
“Right.” I don’t have an answer, nor do I like hers.
She smiles at me. “We never got a chance to chat about your parents. How was it?”
I pass another crayon to Wyatt. “Not bad at all. You were right, it was more in my head. I think we can find our way and maybe meet in the middle. I know I’m disappointing them, my dad for sure, but seeing one another face to face helped. They even got a little excited about Lake Spark.”
Her face turns elated. “That’s great. I’m so happy for you. I can only imagine that being the only child makes it more… sensitive for them. Can I ask if they wanted more children?”
“They did and tried, but it just never happened, unexplainable. I’m lucky Mom doesn’t push the whole grandkids thing… yet. I can imagine that it’s something she wants. I guess I don’t win many points for being son of the year when it comes to them.”
Violet props her foot up on her chair, bringing her knee up to her chest. “Don’t assume. I’m sorry I took you away from them over something so silly. I feel like I should send flowers as an apology or something.”
I chuckle. “My mom would lose her cool and get excited that a woman I know sent her flowers.”
Violet laughs. “We can’t have that, now, can we?”
Yet I wouldn’t mind if they met Violet. She would make them smile and bring us all peace through her sunny perspective on life.
“Green,” Wyatt says and points to another crayon.
Violet picks up a paper swan and examines it. “You have a lot of hidden skills.”
“You know about my paper talent.”
“No, I mean with kids too.”
Before I can ponder, a grumbling Connor arrives down the stairs. “Aunt Violet, I don’t feel too good.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s called regret.”
Violet chuckles softly and gets up off the chair to walk to her nephew. She gives him a hug, even though the guy doesn’t deserve it, then guides him to the kitchen island. “I made you a hangover cure.” Violet grabs a glass with green liquid and a bottle of tabasco sauce.
“What the hell, why do I need that?” Connor sounds horrified.
“Trust me.” She dabs a few drops of hot sauce into the glass then hands it to him.
Connor takes a quick sip then begins to gag. “I think I’m going to be sick.” He runs to the bathroom down the hall.
Violet lets a relaxing breath escape while her shoulders lower. “Works every single time. He will feel so much better after it’s all out, and then he will spend his morning cleaning up the backyard. What fun.” She claps her hands together.
Looking around, I decide I’m comfortable right where I am. “I’ll stick around… if you want.”
She walks back to me, leans down, covers Wyatts eyes with her hand, and kisses me quickly on the lips. “Let me make you a real breakfast then, because I would love if you stayed.”
Me too.
Because apparently this chaos is a side of life that I didn’t realize could be appealing, especially if it has Violet shimmying her fine ass to the kitchen to cook us eggs.