CHAPTER ELEVEN
LIZ
“Sorry, bud, this carton of vanilla rice milk is all I've got. Take it or leave it.” I wave the box back and forth as if that might somehow make it more enticing.
“But it’s not cold,” he whines. “I like it cold.”
“I know it’s not cold.” I found it stashed in the pantry behind the cereal boxes. A back up milk, I’m guessing. Last I checked, Lena wasn’t off dairy. “Maybe we can put some ice cubes in it?”
His little brow crinkles and his lip curls. “That’s gwoss.”
“So, maybe water?” I offer, placing the rice milk on the counter and moving for the sink.
“I guess,” he huffs, stomping his feet as he follows me. I can’t even be mad at him. Room temperature rice milk sounds a little funky to me too. And adding ice cubes, i.e. water, to an already watered down milk substitute does have an air of making a bad situation worse to it.
“Aunt Liz,” Remmi interrupts our milk predicament, marching into the kitchen like a girl on a mission. God, I hope she’s not about to ask me for milk as well.
“Yeah, babe?” I grab a cup from the cabinet and start to fill it for Gavin.
“Do you know where the galaxy light is?” She slows to a stop beside the counter, hooking her elbow on the edge and leaning into it. “We like to have it on to go to sleep.”
“The galaxy light?” Not only do I not know where it is, I have no fucking clue what it is. “What does it look like?”
“Kind of like a big ball.” Her shoulders bounce slightly, like she’s not really sure how else to explain it.
“A big ball,” I repeat her description.
“Yeah.” She rolls her head from shoulder to shoulder. “And it’s a lamp.”
“Right.” Not helpful.
“It has staws on it,” Gavin chimes in when I hand him his water. “And the moon. And the sun.” His eyes light up, sipping his drink. Apparently, the galaxy lamp is magic because he’s already forgotten how disappointing water is when you’re craving milk.
“Now we’re getting somewhere.” I tap my finger on the counter, thinking. “How big is it?”
Remmi and Gavin both make circles with their arms. Two very different sized circles. “Cool. Thanks.”
I sigh, closing my eyes for a second in a pathetic attempt to think like Lena. If it’s a bedtime thing, it has to be upstairs somewhere, right? Right.
“Let’s check the hall closet next to the upstairs bathroom,” I suggest.
“Good idea!” Remmi dashes from the kitchen before I can push away from the counter. She must really want that lamp.
“Can I bwing my water?” Gavin asks, half the contents of his cup already down the front of his pajamas.
“Sure, bud. Why not,” I mumble, sliding my hand down to reach his back and guide him forward. “It’s just water. It’ll dry if it spills.”
We’re two steps from the kitchen when I notice Jovi lingering by the stairs. “We’re looking for the galaxy lamp. Any thoughts?”
He shakes his head and shrugs. “Nope.”
Then he starts moving, heading toward us so casually there’s nothing casual about it.
No, he’s up to something. I’d recognize that look in his eyes anywhere, anytime.
I catch him by the front of his shirt and force him to stop. “What did you do?” I glance toward the steps leading upstairs. “Flood the bathroom? Break a toy? Accidentally spill something on a special blanky?”
Instantly, Gavin’s eyes pop out with worry. “Miss Cozy?”
“Miss Cozy is perfectly fine,” Jovi promises.
But the way he reverts to his guilty crooked grin, leads me to believe I’m on point with my suspicions.
“Gavin, go help your sister look for the light. I’ll be right behind you.” I nudge him to start taking the steps to go up.
“Is Uncle Jovi gonna get in twouble?”
“Always a possibility.” Then I smile to let him know I’m teasing. Well, I smile to lead him to believe I’m teasing. To imply it. Fuck, I’m sure I’m in some grey area here in terms of honesty, but Jovi will survive my wrath, and I think that’s the bottom line worth conveying here.
I wait until Gavin’s all the way up the stairs before I turn my attention back on Jovi. “Spill it.”
“I can’t,” he hisses.
“Why not?” I whisper back.
“Because Remmi and I are on a secret mission, and you’re not supposed to know.”
“Oh.” I release his shirt. Then, feeling unexpectedly sheepish, I smooth out where it’s crinkled from being bunched up inside my fist. Has he always been this freaking solid? Not important. “Sorry.”
I hurry to move my hand before it gets carried away gliding over the obscenely defined contours of his chest.
“It’s fine.” He chuckles quietly. “Old habits, right?”
“Just tell me one thing,” I say, walking backwards toward the stairs while still maintaining eye contact. “Are terrible things going to happen to me while searching for this lamp? Have you two booby-trapped the whole upstairs for me to stumble through in search of this elusive galaxy light?”
He grins. “Thanksgiving break, my junior year.” He tips his head back laughing quietly. “That was fun.”
“I wound up with a bucket of water dumped over my head and a bag of flour exploding at my feet. I was finding paste in places one should never find paste for days after.” I cross my arms, turning to face the steps and start stomping my way up. “It was not fun.”
“This prank will be,” he promises. “It involves cookies.”
I turn over my shoulder. “Secret stash in the oatmeal box?”
“How the hell do you know about those?”
“Oh, please.” I roll my eyes, finally feeling my muscles relax and my steps lighten as I keep going up.
“Who do you think taught you guys these tricks?” I let out a dramatic sigh.
“I hid chocolate in a saltine box all through high school. And those caramels you guys used to sneak from the coffee tin you thought were my father’s?
Also mine. The only reason I never said anything was because it kept you out of my stash of red licorice in the empty spaghetti box behind all the new ones. ”
Jovi makes a face. “Trust me, no one was coming for those.”
“You don’t like red licorice?” It only provided every ounce of serotonin I had to make use of from twelve to eighteen. After that, I learned other means of perking myself up. Namely coffee. “I always knew your judgment couldn’t be trusted.”
He chuckles. “Yes. The red licorice and my habit of skateboarding on your roof are proof of that.” He waves his hand trying to get me moving again. “Now can you get the hell out of here so I can pretend to sneak the cookies out of their hiding place without getting caught?”
“Will you tell me where this damn lamp is?”
He smirks. “No.”
“Because you’re an ass or because you don’t know?”
“I mean…”
“Gawd,” I groan, starting to tromp off after the kids.
“Hey,” he hisses after me. “Remmi knows.”
I turn over my shoulder to glare at him.
He laughs again. “I wouldn’t prank you and screw us both.”
I suppose there’s some solace to be found here.
JOVI
I wait until she’s completely out of sight and I can hear her upstairs talking to the kids before I head into the kitchen and make a beeline for the oatmeal box. Of course, now that I’m in the pantry, I’m looking at everything in here with fresh eyes.
Takes maybe thirty seconds before I spot the bag of flour looking lost and out of place among the cans of soup. The only baking Lena ever did involved a roll of cookie dough she found in the cooler section of the grocery store.
Curious, I pull the bag from its perch on the top shelf. “Jackpot,” I mutter when I peek inside and find a collection of snack-sized candies ranging from skittles to gummy bears to sour patch kids. “Thanks, bud.” I send a nod upwards. No doubt, this was Trent’s secret sugar stash.
I take one more look around. It’s a weird sort of game now, like trying to find Waldo in Lena’s kitchen.
I’m about to reach for a very suspicious-looking box of Pringles whose colors look so faded any chips inside would have to be dust, when Remmi pops in on me. “Did you find them yet?”
Startled by the sudden sound of her voice, I nearly stumble out of the pantry. “Why are you sneaking up on me? We’re supposed to be working together, not against each other,” I whisper sternly.
She rolls her eyes. She’s way too damn good at that.
She also looks way too much like her damn aunt when she does it.
“Did you find them or not?” Her little hands move to her hips.
I’m being scolded by a first grader. “I haven’t given Aunt Liz any hints and she’s already almost found the lamp three times.
” She stabs a finger out at me. “You said you knew where the cookies are.”
“I did—I do,” I stammer. Jesus Christ, what is happening to me? “They’re right here.” I grab the box I set down in the door rack of the pantry while I went on perusing for possible hidden treasure.
“Good.” She takes the box and looks inside, like she doesn’t trust me. Then she nods, satisfied with her findings. “Gavin! Secret meeting under Miss Cozy.” Beaming at me, she whispers, “Mission accomplished.”
And just like that, I’m Super Uncle Jovi again.
More than that, Remmi is a little more Remmi from before the accident. Even if it only lasts for a moment.
Both kids sit at the center of her bed, huddled under Miss Cozy like it's a makeshift tent keeping their shenanigans secret. Cookies are gobbled up in a quiet comfort interrupted only by Gavin’s repeated slurping of rice milk, which he conceded wasn’t half bad once he had a cookie to dunk in it.
“I found the galaxy lamp,” Liz says, standing in the open doorway smiling and entirely unaware of the melted chocolate sitting at the crease of her mouth. I could tell her.
But I don’t. Though I'm guessing I know what's hiding in that Pringles container now.
“You did?” Remmi’s head pops out from under the blanket, surprise only a little too forced. Gavin appears a second later from the opposite end.
“Uh-huh.” Liz cocks a brow at her and smirks, an expression made more amusing with the smear of chocolate decorating her mouth. “Shockingly, it was in the same closet you insisted it couldn’t be in. Three times.”
Remmi grins sheepishly. “Guess I forgot.”
“Guess so.” Liz crosses her arms, pretending to give her niece a stern look. "Whatcha got there? Hm?"
Busted, Remmi giggles, spitting crumbs when she does. Which makes Gavin laugh too. He damn near spits an entire cookie.
After that, Liz and I huddle under the blanket with them, helping them finish off what's left of the Ginger snaps.
“Alright, one more time,” Liz announces after the last of the cookies are gone and the remaining rice milk has been abandoned.
“Go brush your teeth.” She throws her arms up like she’s setting off a race between them.
The gesture translates well, because both kids take off at a run, scrambling out of the bedroom and down the hall.
“I want them extra clean,” Liz calls after them. “No speed brushing after sugar!”
There’s no direct response, just the muffled sound of Remmi instructing Gavin to do an extra good job.
“Think they’ll finally be able to go to sleep?” I ask, grabbing the now empty oatmeal box so we can refill it later.
“After we’ve given them one last surge of sugar?” She laughs, leading the way out of Gavin's room and to the stairs. “Yeah, actually I think they will.”
I nod. “Me too.” We take the steps in silence, both of us making our way back to where we started. Her with dirty dishes, me with a box of crumbs.
“Thank you.” Her tone is so soft and her words so genuine, she catches me completely off guard. The women in this kitchen are really messing me up tonight.
I have to clear my throat to keep from coughing, having choked on spit when she spoke. “Don’t mention it.” And then, I can’t take it anymore. My hand moves before I can think, thumb gently swiping at her mouth.
She stares back at me like a deer in headlights. “What was that for?”
“You had some chocolate.” I curl the corner of my mouth into a teasing grin. “Hershey’s kisses in the Pringles container?”
Liz’s mouth curves softly. “Lena’s favorite.”
This strange soft space of memories only the two of us will share from now on fades into the background at Gavin’s hollered request for another book.
It takes another thirty-plus minutes of tucking in and rereading stories, but finally, seventeen minutes to midnight, both Remmi and Gavin are sound asleep.
And then it’s down to the two of us, awkwardly standing at the bottom of the stairs, both of us unsure of what comes next.
“You could sleep on the couch if you want,” Liz offers. “In case your bed isn't ready in the office.”
It’s a pullout sofa. It's as ready as it’s going to be. But my gaze still shifts to the living room and the overstuffed couch in there. This would hardly be my first night spent on those cushions.
I look back at her. “Where are you sleeping?” She sent Holly to the futon in the den hours ago, and with both kids in their own beds, that only leaves one other option.
“I brought an air mattress,” she says stiffly, like she’s been putting off this same question for herself. “I figured I’d throw it down somewhere and sleep wherever.”
I knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep in Lena and Trent’s old room.
“Too weird sleeping in the master bedroom?”
“Too…everything,” she admits, running both hands over her face. Her eyes are puffy from grief and exhaustion. Their color is darker than normal, the brown hues almost swallowing up the greens and blues completely. Even her hair looks limp and tired and strangely sad.
“I have an idea.” I move toward the couch and start pulling off the two oversized cushions for seating. Together they almost make a twin mattress. “Let’s both sleep up there tonight.”
“Excuse me?”
“You can’t keep playing musical rooms with your air mattress, Liz. You need to get settled. And this shit? It’s never going to get easier.” Gripping both oversized cushions, I nudge her with their edges. “Might as well power through this one. Together.”
“Both of us on the floor?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “That bed’s definitely gotta go. That’s a level of weird we’re never getting over.”
She grins. And it happens, just for a second. The bright greens and blues flash back to life.