“Where are you going then?” Mitchell asks, studying me.
Fuck, it shouldn’t be so fucking hard to say I’m going on a date, but it is, since it’s not something I’ve ever had to tell them before. “I have a date.”
“A date? Like… with a girl?” Max asks, and I hear either Selma or Sejla laugh, but I’m not sure which one, since their laughs are almost as identical as they are.
“Yeah.”
“With who?” Mitch questions, and I look at him.
“December.”
“Miss Mayson?” His brows knit together over his eyes.
“Yeah, you okay with that?” Shit, I don’t even know what I’d do if he says no.
“That’s cool.” He shrugs.
“You’re going out on a date with December Mayson?” Selma asks, and I look at her.
“Yeah.”
“Wow.” She looks at Sejla, and they share a look that I’ve learned over the years is actually a full-blown conversation.
“Who’s December?” Max asks, glancing at everyone in the room with a look that states he’s feeling left out.
“She’s cool,” Mitchell tells his brother. “She’s a teacher.”
“At the high school?” Max clarifies.
“No, she teaches first graders.”
Max frowns. “Then how do you know her?”
“She and a few other first grade teachers bring their classes to the high school once a week. Me and a bunch of the kids in my class play games with them, shoot hoops, or read books. It’s fun, and plus we get to skip study hall,” he says like that is the best part. “Miss Mayson is one of the coolest teachers who comes. Most of the other teachers are stuck up, but she’s always laughing and joking with us when she’s there.”
“Cool,” Max says, and Mitchell grins.
“About that, kid. I don’t remember you ever mentioning it to me,” I say, watching my oldest closely.
“It’s not a big deal.” He shrugs casually before he turns to press the up arrow and increase his speed on the treadmill.
“You’re right,” I agree when he looks at me, continuing to walk backward just faster now. “It’s not a big deal, but it’s still something I’d like to know you’re doing. It’s also something I’m proud of you for doing.”
“It’s awesome you’re doing that,” Selma inserts, and I see Sejla nod in agreement. “I’m sure the kids love it and really look up to you.”
“I guess,” Mitchell murmurs, looking a little embarrassed.
“I’m proud of you, kid,” I say, and his eyes meet mine. “Your aunt’s right. Those kids probably look up to you and look forward to the time you spend with them each week.”
“Thanks, Dad,” he mumbles, and I lift my chin, not wanting to make him feel any more awkward than he already does.
“So where are you taking December?” Sejla asks, and I look to where she’s standing with her arms crossed over her chest as she studies me. “Please tell me it’s some place nice and not out for pizza or a burger.”
“I’m taking her to Flame,” I reply, and her eyes grow wide. I’m not surprised by her expression. Flame opened three months ago, and the waitlist for a table has been a month out since opening. “I know the owner. I’ve done quite a bit of work on his cars, and he told me awhile back that if I wanted a table, it was mine. So I pulled a favor.”
“Well, color me impressed.”
“Glad you approve,” I mutter sarcastically, and she grins.
“What time is Grandma coming over?” Max asks behind me, and I turn to find him on the treadmill with his brother.
“Around 4:30.”
“Can we go to the movies tonight?”
“If your grandma is up to taking you, sure,” I answer, and the two of them smile, since they know from experience that all they have to do is ask and their grandma will jump at the chance to make them happy. “That said, you two should get a head start on whatever homework you’ve got before she gets here. That way, tomorrow, you’re not complaining when I’m watching the game and eating junk food without you.”
“Homework sucks,” Max states as Mitchell turns to power down the treadmill.
“Look at the bright side; you two only have a few more months of school before summer is here,” Sejla tells him, and his eyes go to her as he jumps away from his brother, who playfully pushes him off the now still treadmill.
“I guess you’re right,” he agrees with his aunt then peers up at me. “If I’m gonna do homework, I need brain food.”
“You just ate an entire meal from McDonald’s in the car on the way here. How are you even hungry right now?” Selma asks, sounding astonished.
“That was like forever ago,” he says with a straight face, and she shakes her head in disbelief.
I curl my boy into my side and tip my head down toward him. “Turn on the oven and I’ll put in a pizza for you before I hop in the shower.”
“Cool.” He grins, and I ruffle his hair then let him go to watch him hug his aunts before he disappears through the doorway into the house.
“I need brain food too, Dad,” Mitchell tells me with a grin as Selma and Sejla start muttering back and forth under their breath about how much my boys eat.
“I’m sure one pizza will be enough to hold you and your brother over until dinner.”
“I guess so,” he grumbles before he starts for the door.
“Umm… are you forgetting something?” Sejla asks his back, and his shoulders sag as he turns to face both his aunts, who are looking at him expectantly.
“Sorry.” He holds up his hand for a high five, and my sisters take that as a challenge and rush him at the same time. Once he’s stuck between them, they begin to hug and kiss him.
“Dad!” he yells, looking at me for help, and I hold up both my hands and laugh while he groans and grumbles, trying unsuccessfully to dodge them.
“Now, you can go.” Selma laughs, releasing him at the same time as Sejla.
I hear him growl under his breath as he adjusts his clothes and fixes his hair, and I smile as he glares at me before stomping away, disappearing back into the house.
“He’s growing up too fast,” Sejla says, and I feel pain slice through my chest. She’s right. I try not to think about it, but I know it’s only going to be a few years before we’re searching for colleges. And on the heels of that, he’ll move out, eventually find someone to spend his life with, and start a family of his own. And not long after he’s gone, Max will do the same and begin his own life. It feels like it was just minutes ago that I was holding each of them against my chest, marveling at the fact that I created them. And now they are on the cusp of becoming men of their own.
“Both my boys are growing up too quickly,” I reply, watching my sisters’ faces soften in understanding. “I’ve loved watching them grow and become their own men, but—”
“You miss your babies,” Sejla says quiet, cutting me off.
“Yeah.” I rub the tension from the back of my neck.
“Maybe you’ll have another baby one day,” Selma says, and I shake my head in denial.
“No sleep, bottles, and endless amounts of diapers? No thanks. I did that twice, and I’m not going back.”
“You’re still young,” Sejla points out, like that’s reason enough to have another kid.
“I have my boys. I’ve done the baby thing and enjoyed every second of it, but I’m not interested in going through that again,” I say, then watch my sisters share a look of disappointment. “What?” I ask, looking between the two of them.
“You’re young,” Sejla repeats, then holds up her hand when I start to open my mouth to reiterate my earlier statement. “Whoever you end up with will most likely be young too, so what will happen if they don’t have kids and want to start a family with you?”
My chest tightens as I fully comprehend the point she’s trying to make. Still, I say, “Whoever I end up with will have my boys and me.”
“Okay, I get that, but mayb
e you shouldn’t completely close the door on the idea of having more children,” she tells me, then continues with her voice dipping to a solemn tone. “With both Mitchell and Max, you were a single dad doing all the heavy lifting alone. It would be different if you found the right woman, someone who wanted to be a mom. Someone to share things with, who’d stick around even when things got hard.”
I want to tell her I’d be open to the idea of more kids with the right woman, but in all honesty, I don’t know if I would be.
“Please, please don’t shut that door,” she pleas, reading my expression.
“I won’t shut that door,” I agree just to get the look of concern out of her eyes, and she lets out a deep breath before she looks at Selma then back to me.
“We’ve both met December. She’s sweet, and her family is awesome, and I think I speak for the two of us when I say we’re happy you’re finally dating.”
Shit.
“You deserve someone like her,” Selma adds, and I realize at that moment exactly why Sejla was so adamant about me being open to the idea of having more kids.
December is young, she doesn’t have children, and if she’s like most women, she’s probably thought about having kids of her own. It’s not a subject I’d broach tonight, but it’s definitely something we will have to talk about if things between us progress.
“Just have fun tonight.” Her lips tip up into a smile then she looks at Sejla. “We need to go if we’re going to make it to Nashville in time.”
“Nashville?” I ask, wondering why they’re heading into the city.
“One of our favorite authors is signing at the bookstore downtown,” Selma says, and I roll my eyes. My sisters are both avid readers. If they aren’t working, they’re traveling to reader events all over the world to meet their favorite authors and hang out with their book friends.
“You can bore me with the nerdy details later,” I tell them, and they both laugh as I walk the two of them into the house. I stop in the kitchen to take a frozen pizza out of the freezer, and while I put it on a pan and place it in the oven, they go to say goodbye to their nephews. I meet them at the front door a few minutes later and hug each of them before they leave. Once they’re gone, I knock on Mitchell’s door then Max’s, telling them to keep an ear out for the timer I set for the pizza, hoping one or both of them will hear it.
Getting grumbled agreements from both boys, I go to my room and hop in the shower. Forty minutes later, dressed in dark gray slacks and a burgundy button-down shirt, I head toward the sound of voices in the living room. I find both boys on the couch and the pizza I placed in the oven earlier between them on the coffee table. I start to open my mouth to ask how their homework is coming along, but I freeze when I hear Max ask, “But what if Mom comes back?”
“Dude, seriously?” Mitchell responds instantly, sounding annoyed. “Mom and Dad aren’t together, and they haven’t been together in like… years.”
“I guess you’re right.” Max’s voice is barely above a whisper. “It’s just… when Mom comes around, Dad always seems like he wants her to stay.”
“Dad wants us to have Mom, but that doesn’t mean he wants her,” Mitchell tells his little brother matter-of-factly, and my chest gets tight. “We haven’t seen Mom in months, and Dad should find someone who makes him happy.”
“Do you think...” Max pauses and seems to ponder what he’s going to ask. “Do you think December will make him happy?”
“I don’t know, but I saw them together and—” He cuts off his own words, and I watch as he shakes his head. “She’s nice. Dad deserves someone nice.”
“Mom is nice,” Max says, sounding defensive. Him defending his mom isn’t surprising. Beth has been in and out of his life since he was born, but anytime she’s come around, she has made it a point to bring gifts and make it seem like she’d been on an adventure she couldn’t wait to come back from, just so she could share all her stories with him.
I see an irritated look fill Mitchell’s eyes, and when he sits up straight and starts to open his mouth, I know it’s time to step in. I force my feet to move and my mouth to open before Mitchell has a chance to respond. “I see you two managed to share a pizza. Now, tell me. How’s your homework going?”
“I’m just about done,” Mitchell tells me, and my eyes go to Max.
“I don’t have much left either.”
“If you guys get everything done today, we’ll go to the batting cage tomorrow before the game.”
“We’ll have it done,” Max assures with excitement, and Mitchell nods in agreement with his brother.
“Good,” I say, turning toward the door when it’s shoved open and my mom walks in.
“I brought chocolate chip cookies,” she says in the form of a greeting, holding a Tupperware container in the air.
“Right on!” Max exclaims, jumping off the couch to greet her with a hug before taking the container from her. Mitchell isn’t far behind him in greeting his grandma, but I notice he doesn’t hug her. He just smiles and allows her to kiss his cheek.
When both boys are settled back on the couch with their pizza and the tub of cookies, I glance at the clock to check the time then go to the front door and shrug on my jacket.
“You’re leaving already?” Mom asks.
“Yeah, I want to stop and pick up flowers, and I know traffic will be crazy with all the construction happening around town.”
“Flowers,” she murmurs, looking proud, and then she eyes me from head to toe. “You look handsome. Burgundy looks good on you.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, and she grins. “The boys asked about seeing a movie. I left a hundred dollars on the kitchen counter for you, if you feel up to taking them.”
“I can pay for my grandbabies to see a movie,” she snaps, sounding as annoyed as she always does when I leave money with her for the boys.
“It’s not for the movie. It’s for the forty dollars’ worth of junk food they will want, along with whatever you guys decide to pick up for dinner.”
“We’ll go to Walmart before and get stuff to take in with us.” She waves me off.
“They’ll still want frozen drinks at the movie, along with popcorn, and food afterward.”
“Yeah, and I can afford that stuff too. I’m not broke.”
She’s not; she’s always been careful with money. Still, I always leave money, even if I know it will be right where I left it when I get home. “Use it or don’t, but it’s there if you need it,” I say, and she gives me a look full of annoyance. I glance at the couch, where the boys are now eating chocolate chip cookies and watching some show on TV, and then look at my mom. “After they eat, urge them to finish their homework before you go to the movies.”
“It’s Saturday. They have tomorrow to do homework.”
“Yeah, but I told them I’d take them to the batting cages tomorrow before the game comes on. If they have homework, they will have to miss out on one or the other.”
“Oh, right.”
“I’ll be back before eleven,” I tell her, then add, “If I’m running later than that, I’ll call.”
“Eleven, midnight, tomorrow morning—we’ll be good.” She smiles, back to being happy, and I shake my head at her.
“Boys, be good for your grandma!” I shout as I grab my keys.
“We will!” Max shouts back.
“Have fun, Dad,” Mitch says.
“Thanks, bud.” I lift my chin.
“Have fun tonight.” Mom winks.
“Thanks,” I shake my head.
After fighting traffic and picking up flowers from the florist in town, I head to December’s apartment building and get there ten minutes before I’m supposed to arrive. I climb out, taking the bouquet of pink peonies with me, and move to her door. I knock and get no reply, so I knock again and ring the bell, hearing a muttered curse right before the door is yanked open.
“You’re early,” she says with her fingers wrapped around the robe at her waist, her hair s
till up in curlers and one eye darker than the other with makeup.
“Eight minutes.”
“What?” She shakes her head, taking a step back as I walk into her apartment.
“I’m early by eight minutes.” I glance at the clock on her wall. “Actually, seven.” I look around and see her e-reader on the couch, along with an open bag of Cheetos and a Diet Coke on her coffee table. “Did you forget about our date?”
“What? Of course not. I just—”
“Let me guess,” I cut her off. “You were reading and lost track of time.”
“Something like that.” She looks away as her cheeks grow pink with embarrassment.
“You’ll have to tell me about the book at dinner.”
She looks at the clock and her eyes widen. “Crap.” She spins around, “I’ll be back in ten minutes, make yourself at home,” she calls as she runs off.
Figuring it will take her longer than ten minutes to finish getting ready, I place the flowers in my hand next to her Coke on the coffee table then take a moment to look around. Her living room is small, but it’s also bright and filled with color. There are photos on the walls, along with framed pieces of floral art and quotes from various people, all artfully arranged. There isn’t an empty space to be seen, and even though it’s chaotic, it’s still somehow her.
I walk to her bookshelves, pick up the top book from a stack all from the same author, and flip open the cover. Just like my sisters’ prized books, it is signed to her. I smile then place it back where it belongs before examining the rest of her book collection.
Minutes later, I start to move to look at some of her photos, when I hear a door open. I turn and freeze as I soak in every single detail. From her smoky eyes, the fall of her hair around her shoulders, and the black material contouring to every single inch of her voluptuous body.
“I’m really sorry about being late,” she tells me, turning away to bend and pick up her purse off the couch.
Jesus Christ. My hands itch to touch her. The dress is simple; she’s not showing a lot of skin, but with the way it molds to her tits and ass, she might as well be naked. Then, there are the heels she’s wearing, heels I can imagine sinking into my flesh while I fuck her. Without a doubt, every man who sees her tonight is going to be thinking the same dirty things I am right now. Lucky for me, she’ll be on my arm.
Until December: Until Her/ Until Him Page 7