by J. M. Snyder
Braden smoothed down his hair as if to rub Remy away. “Fourth. I’m in fourth grade.” He looked at Emma again. “What about her?”
Angie frowned. “Who, Emma? What about her?”
“What grade’s she in?” Braden asked.
With a laugh, Angie said, “She isn’t in school yet, she’s only one.” Ed handed her a plate of appetizers and she leaned back to thank him. “In a few more years she’ll go to preschool, then kindergarten, then first grade, but that’s still a ways off.”
Braden watched Angie balance the baby on one knee, the plate on her other. When Emma reached for something on the plate, though, Angie held it out of reach. “She wants that tomato,” he said.
“She can’t have it,” Angie told him. “She’s too little, and besides, I already fed her before we came over.”
For a moment, Braden watched Angie juggle the baby and the plate of food. Then he said, “I can hold her for you, if you want to eat.”
Lane started, and felt Remy stiffen beside him. “Brae, no,” his father said. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea…”
But Angie gave Braden an appraising look and, to Lane’s surprise, said, “Sure. Sit up a little.” Braden straightened his back and sat up. “Now hold your arms out in a circle—like that, good. I’ll just set her on your lap, and all you have to do is sit still and make sure she doesn’t fall off, okay? Can you do that?”
Braden nodded eagerly. Angie set her plate on the table for a moment, then lifted Emma off her knee. The baby fussed for a moment, but grew quiet as her mother raised her high enough to set her down within the circle of Braden’s arms. Her little legs jutted out from under Braden’s elbow, and for a long moment, she stared at Braden, perplexed, as if wondering who the hell was this kid holding her now?
Lane held his breath, waiting. Beside him, Remy was taut and poised, on the verge of stepping in, but Lane kept a hand on his back, keeping him in check. Wait a moment, he thought, sending the silent encouragement to his lover. Let’s see what happens.
Everyone in the room fell quiet, watching, waiting. Angie reached for her plate again. Emma saw her mother’s movement and turned to follow it. When she realized her mother wouldn’t be taking her back, she looked at Braden again. Scrunched up her face, as if testing him to see what he would do.
Braden mimicked her, scrunching up his face in a mirror image.
Suddenly Emma laughed, peals of giggles that broke the stillness and set everyone at ease. “She likes me!” Braden cried.
Angie grinned. “I think she does.”
“Thank God,” Remy murmured to Lane.
Chapter 11
Remy woke at an ungodly hour Friday morning to the sound of his cell phone ringing. Beside him, Lane grumbled sleepily, “What time is it? That me?”
“It’s me.” Remy yawned and rolled away from his lover to fumble for his phone on the bedside table. The ringing was insistent, demanding. He usually set it to do not disturb when he went to sleep; had he forgotten? They’d been up late the previous evening with Lane’s folks, getting to know each other and drinking way too much wine, which Remy now regretted. His bladder ached and his head throbbed, and he couldn’t find the damn phone…
His wrist bumped it and, a moment later, he heard a thump as the iPhone fell to the floor. Fuck.
Lane tugged the blankets around himself. “You going to answer it, or what?” he groused.
“I’m trying.” Remy sat up enough to lean out of bed and snag the phone from where it had landed. As his fingers touched the screen, the call connected and, thankfully, the ringing stopped. Falling back to the pillow, he put the phone to his ear. “Yeah?”
It was Kate. “Jer? I woke you, didn’t I?”
He blinked in the darkened bedroom. “What time is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” she assured him. “Didn’t you get my text?”
He held the phone out at arm’s length and looked at the screen—there across the top was a notification of a text message from his ex-wife. He could read, Layover in Las Vegas, but that was it. Putting the phone back to his ear, he said, “I see it now. So you’re in Vegas?”
“We were last night when I sent it,” Kate said. “Look, should I call a cab, or something? You sound like you’re still in bed…”
“No, I’m up.” As if to prove it, Remy sat up in bed. He yawned again and stretched, and rubbed Lane’s back through the blankets. “Lane’s asleep, though. Maybe I can call you back. Where are you now?”
Kate laughed. “Honolulu airport, where do you think?”
Remy blinked in surprise. “Wait, you’re here? Already? When did that happen?”
“I’ll tell you all about it,” Kate promised, “but come pick us up first. I slept on the plane but Mike’s about to fall out. Bring coffee and bagels. How long do you think it’ll take you to get here?”
Remy scrambled out of bed. When Lane muttered something indistinct in protest, he told his lover, “Kate made it. I’m going to go get her.” Into the phone, he added, “Give me ten minutes. No, fifteen. I have to pee something fierce.”
“TMI,” Kate said with a laugh. “We’ll be waiting outside. It’s gorgeous here, in case you haven’t noticed. If I never see snow or ice again, it’ll be too soon. See you when you get here.”
* * * *
On the way back to the hotel, Kate told Remy all about what she called their escape from winter. The power went out shortly after he called Wednesday evening asking about the divorce decree, so she hadn’t been able to scan in the document to email to him. She and Mike were packed and ready to leave at a moment’s notice, but they didn’t want to use their phones too much, because they didn’t want to drain the batteries. They checked with the airport every so often to make sure they didn’t miss their rescheduled flight, but anything more than that was curtailed until the power came back on.
Luckily Kate’s neighborhood was fairly close to a large shopping center, and they were only out for little more than twenty-four hours. “Still, it was bitter cold in the house,” she told Remy, her words a direct contrast to the weather outside the rental car. She had the window rolled down and the wind blew her hair back from her face, which was turned up to catch the early morning sun as it rose up over Diamond Head crater. Her boyfriend Mike snoozed in the backseat, obviously worn out from the flight. “We had just enough kerosene to last us the one night. I was debating whether or not to go out and buy more when there was a click and everything came on as if by magic. Of course, then we had to go around the house and turn everything back off.”
“This was yesterday?” Remy clarified. “Why didn’t you scan in the divorce paper then?”
Kate said, “We plugged in the phones to charge them and almost immediately, the airport called. They had a flight leaving Richmond at quarter to seven Thursday night, arriving in Honolulu at six A.M. the next morning. Two layovers, an all-nighter, but there were two seats available if we wanted them. This was at four-thirty, but with rush hour traffic and the snow and crap, and the airport’s a half hour away, we had to leave then if we wanted to make the flight. I figured I’d see you soon enough. I mean, I brought it with me.”
Remy sighed, relieved. “Okay, good. I’m just—ugh. I feel like this whole thing is slipping away from me. I hired this woman to help me out and there’s no sense of urgency here. You know how I like to have things—”
“Planned down to the minute,” Kate said with a laugh. “Yeah, I know.”
“But I don’t know what Chell’s done already,” Remy told her. “I don’t know what’s still left to be done, what needs following up on, none of that. The only things I’m sure of are that we need the marriage license and we have a fitting scheduled for the tuxedos tomorrow. Other than that, I’m in the dark about the whole thing. I have a stack of papers from her that mean shit to me. I’m floundering here. I want just everything to be perfect and I don’t know what I need to do to make sure it is.”
Kate reach
ed over and placed a comforting hand on Remy’s arm. “Jer, calm down, okay? Let me take a look at these papers and we’ll tackle it together. Don’t worry. No ex-husband of mine will have a half-assed second wedding if I have anything to say about it.”
Remy let out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t realized how frazzled he’d been until Kate agreed to help him unravel the mess Chell had created. “Lane’s sister might be able to help, too,” he suggested. “I think you’ll like Angie. She reminds me a lot of you.”
“Oh?” Kate asked playfully. “A sexy, sassy woman with a take charge attitude?”
“Wait, have you two met already?” Remy joked.
* * * *
At the hotel, Remy helped Mike carry their bags into their room, then Kate and Remy left Mike snoring on the sofa. “There’s a really nice bed just through there,” Remy started, offering to show them around.
But Kate waved his words away. “Let him crash. He sat up all night, God bless him, and let me sleep in the airport at Vegas, and on the plane here, so if he wants to lay out in the living room, more power to him. The damn thing’s big enough, that’s for sure. How much do these rooms run, anyway?”
“The hotel’s about the only thing Chell picked out so far that I’ve liked,” Remy admitted. They left Kate’s room and headed down the hall to Remy’s. He swiped his key card in the lock and eased open the door, unsure if anyone else would be awake yet. In a low voice, he warned her, “It’s still kind of early…”
He needn’t have worried. Even before he stepped inside, he heard the TV going, music from Braden’s latest video game filling the living room. Angie sat at the kitchen bar, a mug of coffee in her hands, and Lane stood in the kitchen, flipping omelets on the small stovetop. “Hey, hey!” Lane called out in surprise. “Look who’s finally here! I wondered where you ran off to this morning without me.”
Remy crossed the foyer and slid an arm around his lover’s waist, planting a kiss on Lane’s cheek. “I told you I’d be right back. I see someone went to the store.”
Angie raised her mug in greeting. “That would be me. I needed milk and diapers and a certain someone came along to pick out his favorite cereal.”
The TV paused as Braden leaned back to look at them. “She means me,” he said. Then he saw his mother and, dropping the game controller, climbed onto the sofa, the leather cushions squealing as he climbed over them in his haste to get out of the recessed living room. “Mom! You made it!”
He hurried over to Kate and flung himself at her in an all-encompassing hug. Remy murmured to Lane, “I never get a welcome like that.”
With a laugh, Lane wrapped both arms around Remy’s waist and squeezed him tight. “How’s this?” he asked, teeth clenched against the strain of his hug.
From where she sat, Angie sipped her coffee. “Careful, or you might pull something.”
Extracting herself from Braden, Kate came towards the kitchen with her hand outstretched. “Hi, I’m Kate. Braden’s mom and Remy’s ex-wife. I’m sure you’ve heard a million bad things about me.”
Lane laughed as Angie shook Kate’s hand. “Like there’s anything bad to say about you. Braden, now…”
“Hey!” Braden cried, indignant. “Emma likes me!”
Kate gave them all an odd look. “Remy said your name is Angela, right?”
“Angie,” Lane’s sister corrected. “Emma’s my daughter. And yes, she likes you, Brae. You were a big help today at the store.”
Braden grinned from ear to ear. “I helped with the baby!”
“That’s great, honey.” His mother slid onto the stool beside Angie and let out a long sigh. “Is there any more of that coffee you’re drinking? I could use a cup. Hello, Lane.”
“Hi, Kate.” Lane poured her a mug while Remy saw to it that the omelets didn’t burn. “How was your flight?”
The look she gave him said it all. “I’ve always wanted to see Hawaii, but getting here is a hassle. Now I know why so many people say the hell with it and stay.”
Angie laughed. “I know what you mean. It’s beautiful out here, isn’t it?”
“Richmond is covered in two feet of snow,” Kate moaned. “That’s more than we get most years—”
“Snow!” Braden cried, excited. “Will it still be there when we get back? I never see snow!”
Remy gave his son an exasperated look. “You saw it last Christmas in the mountains. Remember?”
“Yeah, but I never see it at home,” Braden argued. “Will it snow here, do you think?”
Kate sipped the coffee Lane set in front of her. “God, I hope not.”
Braden climbed onto an empty stool, jostling his mother’s arm and almost making her spill her drink. “Brae!” Remy said, his voice stern. “Aren’t you in the middle of your game, or something? We’re trying to talk here.”
His son pouted. “I’m just—”
From the living room came a sudden indignant cry. “Emma!” Braden slid off the stool and hurried to comfort her. “She was watching me play the game. Sorry, Em. I’ll turn it back on, see?”
She quieted down when he unpaused his video game. Angie caught Remy’s eye and grinned. “Another twenty years and we might be celebrating another wedding in the family,” she joked.
Kate caught the look and giggled into her coffee. “If they want a tropical setting, my vote is for Key West. Or, hey, Disney World in Orlando. All girls love princesses, don’t they?”
“Would either of you want a princess wedding at Disney?” Remy asked.
Kate and Angie exchanged a quick glance, then answered in unison, “Hell, yeah!” Which set them both laughing.
Lane bumped Remy’s hip with his. “Why do I feel like introducing these two might have been a big mistake?”
“Which means you and I are going to be good friends,” Angie told Kate, threading her arm through Remy’s ex-wife’s. “I can feel it.”
* * * *
After breakfast, Kate wanted to see all the paperwork Remy had for the upcoming wedding. “This is it?” she asked, leafing through the thin sheaf from the FedEx envelope.
She had pulled the coffee table up to the sofa and was using it as a desk; she and Angie sat on one side, Lane and Remy on the other. Braden was on the floor in front of the TV, patiently trying to show Emma how to use a game controller, with little success. Remy had to admit, at least it kept both children quiet, and Braden was better with the baby than Remy thought he’d be.
Tossing the papers onto the table, Kate asked, “Where’s this lady who’s supposed to be taking care of all this again, anyway?”
“Surfing,” Remy said with a grimace. “Can you believe it?”
Kate gave him a sour look. “What I can’t believe is that you’re just going along with this and not—”
“Freaking out?” he asked.
Lane smirked. “Oh, yeah, he’s freaking out.”
Reaching for the papers, Angie began to look them over. “How’d you find this lady in the first place?”
Remy nudged Lane, who cleared his throat. “You know her, Ange. Remember Michelle Banks, from high school?”
“Smelly Shelly?” Angie shook her head and laughed. “That explains everything.”
“She says she does this for a living,” Lane said, defensive.
“Sounds like what she does is surf full-time,” Kate replied. “You’re ceremony’s in ten days and you don’t even have a marriage license.”
Remy sighed. “I know.”
“Christmas is next week,” Kate added. “State offices are going to be closed—”
“I know,” Remy said again. “But I couldn’t do anything without the divorce paper, which I didn’t even know I needed—”
“Jer, this is totally not like you.” Taking the papers from Angie, Kate stacked them together and started sorting them into quick, efficient piles, but Remy couldn’t figure out her system. The top paper went on her left, the next in the middle, the one after that on the right, then another on the third pile, then anoth
er, and back to the middle stack…as she sorted, she told him, “Any other time, you’re completely in charge of the situation. You plan your life out months in advance. I know, I was married to you before, I had to put up with you writing out a year’s schedule on the calendar I got you every year for Christmas. So why is this any different? It’s like you just put your hands up and said the hell with it. Why?”
With a shrug, Remy had to admit, “I don’t know. Things have just been so busy lately, what with the new house, and work, and…” He gave Lane a sad smile, as if that might somehow make up for his dropping the ball on their wedding. Lane took Remy’s hand, his fingers so firm and strong in Remy’s own, so reassuring. Remy told his lover, “I wanted everything to be perfect, and I figured the best way to do that would be to let someone else take over. I mean, I knew nothing about this place, and I thought hiring someone local would be the best thing to do.”
Angie snorted derisively. “Someone loco, maybe. Shelly’s always been a bit of a loony toon.”
Kate had the papers sorted; now she straightened the three stacks and passed them out. Lane and Remy got one, Angie got another, and Kate kept one for herself. “Right, well, as of this moment, I’m officially firing Smelly Shelly.”
Wincing, Remy said, “I don’t think we can do that.”
“I don’t see anything in here with her signature on it,” Kate replied. “Did you sign a contract with her for her services, or officially hire her as your agent?”
Remy tried to remember, but it’d been so long since he first emailed her that he couldn’t really remember what exactly the terms of their agreement had been. He looked to Lane for help, but his lover just shrugged. “I don’t think you’ve even really paid her anything,” Lane murmured.
“I gave her my credit card info for the plane tickets,” Remy said, “but I made her send me all the contracts and invoices for the vendors and paid those myself. Maybe I sent her like a couple hundred dollars at the end of the summer to pay her for what she’d done so far…”