Chapter 26 – Leo
Purse Margaritas>Home Renovations
Leo
“I DON’T KNOW what possessed us to attempt this.” Maddie looks around our mess of a home, one hand bracing her back and the other resting on the swell of her belly.
“We’re doing this so we don’t have to do it after the baby is already here.” I spread my own hand across her stomach, hoping I get to feel my daughter kick. “We decided we didn’t want to have her around all the dust, remember?”
I get why Maddie’s tired of renovations. They do feel like they’ve been going on forever. But we’re on the home stretch now. Everything is done except for one room. The room I saved for last, because I knew she was going to be miserable without it.
In hindsight that was the wrong choice because right now my wife is about as miserable as she can get without factoring in our demoed kitchen.
“I just want to scramble some freaking eggs.” Maddie slumps against me, looking exhausted and defeated and overwhelmed.
“Then you will be thrilled to find out your genius of a husband ordered a hotplate before they ripped out the cooktop.” Dropping a kiss to her crown, I leave my wife standing in the living room to retrieve one of the many boxes lining our cluttered dining room.
It takes me a few seconds to find the one I want, but I tear into it as I carry it back in.
“All we have to do is plug it in and we will be semi in business.”
Maddie smiles. “I think I love you more than I have ever loved you before.”
“I don’t know.” I wiggle my brows at her. “You loved me and awful lot last night, Mrs. Castellini.”
I love the way that name sounds. Even better than I liked Miss Miller. It tells the world that she’s claimed me. That she trusts me to take care of her. To support her. To be her partner.
Her teammate.
And Maddie and I are turning out to be one heck of the team. A fact that’s obvious even during mundane tasks like scrambling eggs—the most normal of her pregnancy cravings.
Once I find a spot on the dining room table that will give us enough room to work, I dig out an extension cord, and plug in the hotplate, settling my wife into a chair right next to it. I collect everything while she assembles what I bring.
Usually, Maddie takes the lead in the kitchen. Not because I’m incapable—between her and Abuela, I now know my way around plenty of seasonings—but because I think food has always been happiness for her.
And all I want is for Maddie to be happy.
As the eggs come together, I find our toaster hiding in one corner next to the bin holding our canned goods, and pop a few slices in.
Maddie’s morning sickness has mostly abated, but her stomach is still a little touchy, and toast and eggs is a meal that always sits well, so we’ve been eating a hell of a lot of it.
Once the bread is toasted and buttered, I pile the eggs onto two plates, and lead my wife out onto the back patio, sliding the screen closed so Gill can meow at us while we eat.
Summer was hot as hell, but it’s finally starting to be a little more tolerable.
Not cool by any stretch, but not so sweltering you can’t breathe.
Especially in the evenings, like now.
We enjoy our dinner, and the peace and quiet we don’t often get. Between the near constant work on our house and the assorted girl gangs that have adopted my wife, this place seems to always be filled with noise and chaos.
I love it.
I love watching Maddie bloom under the warmth of unconditional love and support. Seeing her find her footing after coming out the other end of such a terrible time has been amazing.
Her divorce with Drake was finalized shortly after his final attempt to punish her for leaving him behind. Once he got out of the hospital—apparently Abuela is dangerous with a walker—he was taken straight into custody and won’t be released for a very long time.
It turns out Drake was responsible for the crispy dead guy in the car at Sweet Side Apartments. Not sure exactly how that happened, but I’m not gonna ask questions. Maddie’s safe and that’s all that matters to me.
Drake can rot. Maddie’s mine now and forever.
Much to her parents dismay, Maddie and I got married before the ink on her divorce was even dry. They still call on occasion just to be a pain in the ass, but for the most part they’ve realized she’s no longer going to let them dictate her life.
Apparently, if they can’t tell her what to do and feel like the best parents who’ve ever lived, continuing a connection with her isn’t worth it.
Not even for the opportunity to know their granddaughter.
Maddie polishes off her dinner and leans back in her seat, resting both hands on her belly. I reach over to collect her plate and stack it on mine. “Feel better?”
“If by better you mean am I no longer hangry while your kid head-butts me in the cervix, then I feel great.” Maddie frowns at her middle. “It feels like she’s trying to bust her way out almost twenty-four-seven.”
“She probably is. She knows her Auntie Alexis bought her enough clothes she’ll probably never have to wear the same thing twice.”Understatement. “And that Uncle Gavin has a lizard big enough for her to ride around like a pony.”
While our daughter might be missing out on a couple grandparents, she certainly won’t be lacking people who care about her.
Or clothing.
I’m picking up our plates, preparing to carry them inside when a ruckus breaks out in our entryway. Cupcake must have decided her nap was over right as the front door opened, which means she has to immediately raise hell and protect our safety.
“Oh, hush.” Abuela pauses just inside the front door, gripping one handle of her walker/weapon-of-choice as she crouches to give her tiny dog a pet. “Everyone knows your vicious.”
Reaching out one hand, I pull Maddie up from her chair, knowing she’s going to want to come inside. Sliding the screen out of the way, I follow her in as Abuela leads her new friend group into the house.
Maddie’s steps are a little bit of a waddle as she crosses the living room, pausing to slide one hand down Gillette’s back as she curls up on the arm of the couch. “How was the movie?”
“Not bad.” Abuela unhooks the bag slung over one shoulder, dropping it into her recliner. “But one of the ushers tried to check my purse for contraband snacks, and I had to fake a medical emergency so he wouldn’t find all our goodies.”
Maddie’s brows lift. “What sort of medical emergency did you fake?”
Abuela shrugs. “I wasn’t specific. I was worried he’d call the squad and then I wouldn’t get to see the movie, so I just told him I was feeling a little dizzy and needed to sit down.”
“You should have told him you shit yourself.” Betty drops her own purse next to Abuela’s. “I bet he would have left us the hell alone instead of coming to check on you every twenty minutes iso we had to keep hiding our margaritas.”
Maddie and I weren’t here when the girls picked Abuela up for their movie date, but I can’t say I’m surprised part of what was hidden in her purse contained alcohol.
“I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to bring alcohol into an establishment.” Maddie is understandably concerned.
Sylvia smirks as she flops down onto the sofa, making herself comfortable.
Which is fine. I’m pretty sure she’s at least a little responsible for Drake’s eventual downfall. I’ll owe her forever for that.
She pulls Gill down onto her lap, brows lifted as she says. “Then you definitely don’t want to hear what we put in your hospital bag.”