Soaring (41 page)

It was a routine that was working for me.

I looked to the clock.

It wasn’t even six thirty.

At that, I smiled a lazy smile, liking a whole lot how Mickey was making time for me.

With my lazy smile, I lazed in bed, listening to the shower. I continued to do it when Mickey came out, short hair wet, naked body moving around and becoming clothed.

When he’d accomplished that, he sat at the end of my bed, reached out a hand and cupped my cheek.

Through this, I didn’t move.

The soft way Mickey was looking at me, I knew he didn’t mind.

“Lookin’ forward to the kids?” he asked a question he knew the answer to.

“Definitely,” I gave him that answer.

“You get time, touch base with me.”

I turned my head slightly and pressed my cheek into his hand.

“Definitely,” I repeated.

“Gotta head out,” he said.

I nodded under his hand.

When he was about to move, I caught his wrist. He stilled and focused again on me.

I lifted up to my elbow and kept hold of his hand by his wrist, tucking it to my chest.

“I just want to say that it isn’t lost on me, the effort you’re making to spend time with me.”

He stared at me but said nothing.

“Mickey?” I called when this went on a while.

“Babe, you wear short, sexy nighties.”

That was when I stared at him.

“I’m sorry?” I asked when he didn’t elucidate.

“Silky ones that feel good.” He paused before he added, “With lace.”

“Well…” I drew that out but trailed off, still not certain what he was saying.

“Feel good,” he stated, his eyes locked to mine. “Look good. You run to the door in the middle of the night to open it for me. I get my mouth on you, that’s it. You put it right out there you can’t get enough of me. We fuck before we sleep. We fuck when we wake up. You’re a seriously good lay. And you made the boys brownies.”

“I—”

“Not a hardship,” he cut me off to say. “In fact, I’m a dumbfuck for not doin’ it before. Can’t do that shit when I got my kids. Still, lost a week.”

I grinned, his words again making my heart take flight.

“So don’t thank me for makin’ time to spend with you when I
like
spending time with you, Amy,” he finished on an order.

“Message received, Mickey,” I told him through my grin.

He kept ordering. “Now, you’re up, you can get up further and kiss me before I go.”

He was right.

I could do that.

I pushed up and scooted to him, wrapping my arms around him as he did the same, and I put my mouth to his.

He arched me over his arm and took over the kiss.

It was heavy and heated before he broke it, lifted a hand to the side of my head and swept a thumb over my cheek.

“Have a good visit with your kids,” he murmured.

“I will, honey.”

“Got mine on Monday. You’re over for dinner.”

I nodded, feeling happy build inside me.

“Later, Amy.”

“Try to have a decent day at work, Mickey.”

“Will do,” he muttered, brushed his mouth to mine and laid me back in bed.

He had to know I was watching him walk away, and enjoying it (not the walking away part, the watching Mickey’s body doing it part).

Still, he turned before he hit the doorway and gave me a soft look as he lifted his hand in a low wave.

I gave him a soft look and a soft smile back.

He faced forward and disappeared.

Chapter Seventeen

They Were Back

At three thirty-seven that afternoon, I heard the garage door going up.

I stayed in the kitchen and continued doing what I was doing; rubbing herbed butter on a raw chicken I was going to put in to roast.

The door opened and I turned my head that way, smiling and calling, “Hey, honeys.”

“Hey, Mom,” Auden replied, my insides warmed then I went still as he walked right to me.

Right to me.

And when he got to me, he leaned down, kissed my cheek then looked to the chicken.

“Excellent. Mom’s roast chicken. I’m starved,” he declared.

I stayed still as he walked away, but my eyes watched him move out of the kitchen toward the landing.

They caught on Pippa who was standing at the end of the counter.

“Hey, Mom,” she launched in when she got my attention. “I know this is Mom Time and I woulda asked earlier, but Polly only told me today that her mom’s always wanted to see Cliff Blue. So she asked if she could come over some time with her mom and we could show them around. I thought she could come over tomorrow, if that’s okay.”

“That’s fine, sweets,” my mouth said for me, my tone sounding natural and calm and not how I felt.

Ecstatic and overjoyed.

“Cool,” she muttered, shrugging her purse off her shoulder and digging in to get out her phone. She then started wandering away, texting, but she did it talking. “Awesome you’re roasting a chicken. Haven’t had your chicken in
ages
.”

I stood immobile with buttery hands watching my daughter wander away texting until she disappeared down the hall.

I continued to stand immobile with buttery hands, fighting the urge to jump on my phone and text Robin, Lawr and Mickey to tell them what just happened.

I was still fighting this when Auden yelled, “Hey, Mom! Can I move the bed from the side wall to the back wall?”

I closed my eyes as euphoria swept through me.

I opened them and yelled back, “Yeah, kiddo! Hang tight, I’ll get this chicken in and help!”

“I will too!” Pippa said after me.

My throat felt thick, I could feel the tears gathering behind my eyes and that was when I stood there and fought that.

It was a fight I had to win because I had to get the chicken in the oven, clean my hands and help my son move his bed in his room to where he wanted it to be.

I focused on doing the first parts, and after the chicken was in and my hands were cleaned, I walked toward my children’s rooms, calling, “We get this bed moved, you know the drill! Homework done first thing so you don’t have to worry about it all weekend!”

“But there’s something I wanna watch on TV tonight!” Pippa called back.

I was in her door when she finished. “So watch it with your books in front of you.”

“Whatever,” she muttered, but she did it good-naturedly.

“Come help me with your brother’s bed.”

She nodded, tossed her phone on her comforter and I moved out of her doorway toward Auden’s room, thrilled with the knowledge that my baby girl was following me.

* * * * *

“Mom, you’ve got nothing in your scheduled recordings,” Auden announced after dinner that evening.

He was lounged on the couch across from where I was lounged in my fabulous armchair. He had the remote up and pointed at the TV.

“I don’t watch that much TV, kid,” I reminded him.

He looked back to the TV and started pressing buttons. “You got HBO. Showtime. Cinemax. Jeez, you got the premium package.” His eyes returned to me. “You don’t even wanna record movies?”

I’d been so busy, except with Mickey and his kids and when I had my kids, I hadn’t thought about movies.

“That’s a good idea,” I murmured.

“Hey!” Pippa snapped, bouncing into the room, coming from whatever she’d been doing in her bedroom (hopefully her homework), her gaze aimed at the television. “Don’t use up all the DVR space. I get half.”

“You get
a third
, Pip. Mom’s gonna start recording movies.”

“
Whatever
, Auden. I get a third so don’t use it all up,” she returned, throwing herself on the couch and kicking at his legs unnecessarily to make room for herself when there was already plenty.

“Don’t be a douche,” Auden bit out, moving his legs back to where they were before Pippa kicked them.

“Just ’cause you’re taller than me doesn’t mean you get the whole couch, Auden,” she retorted.

“Actually,” I put in, “it kinda does.” Both kids looked at me, but I looked to Pippa. “You don’t need that much room, sweets. The couch is long, you have plenty. Share with your brother, baby.”

She hunched back into the couch, looking to the TV and mumbling, “You always take his side.”

“
I
didn’t get a new comforter, Pippa,” Auden returned.

Oh no.

“Do you want one?” I asked my son.

“No,” he answered me. “Just pointing out she’s full of it.”

Pippa looked to me. “Can you get another armchair like yours that I can sit in?”

That would crowd the space and look funny.

“No,” I told her gently.

“I cannot
believe
you asked Mom to buy you a
chair
,” Auden said precisely like he couldn’t believe it.

“That chair is awesome,” Pippa retorted, making the warmth inside me snuggle deeper, which was what their bickering was doing, as crazy as that sounded.

Auden turned his attention back to the TV, clicking the remote, answering, “It is. But it’d look stupid, crammed up here with all this other stuff. And it’s not like chairs grow on trees.”

“I didn’t say they did,” Pippa returned.

“Just be cool for once,” Auden shot back.

“Okay,” I cut in. “I love it that you love my chair, Pip. And I love it that you’re protective of my design aesthetic, Auden. But how about we make this zone,” I circled my hand to indicate the space we were occupying, “a bicker free zone for ten minutes.”

Pippa hunched back into the couch and Auden turned back to the TV, doing this grinning.

“Design aesthetic,” he muttered, clearly amused.

Back in the day, I amused my boy often.

Right then, knowing I did, I tasted a sweet so beautiful, I knew I’d buried the memory so understanding I’d lost it wouldn’t kill me.

When he did, Pippa audibly swallowed back a giggle before also muttering, “Mom’s so goofy.”

I drew in a silent breath and let it out.

Whackjob I hated.

Goofy I’d take since, to my kids, something they told me frequently, I’d always been goofy.

That also tasted sweet.

I’d missed it too.

The ten minutes actually only lasted about two before Pippa asked irritably, “Can we
watch something
while you schedule your bazillion programs into the DVR?”

I looked at the programming happening and wondered when my son actually intended to watch all that.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“
Something
,” she answered.

Expertly, Auden changed the channel to something Pippa would accept then went back to programming the DVR.

But he did this asking, “That cool for you, Mom?”

In my son’s voice (or my daughter’s), “Mom” was the most beautiful word in the English language.

“Yeah, kiddo,” I replied, not even knowing what we were watching.

I didn’t care.

They were back.

My kids were back.

With me.

* * * * *

“Amy, that’s fuckin’ great,” Mickey said in my ear through the phone while I reclined on my daybed in my bedroom.

The kids were still camped out in front of the TV, but I’d gone to my room because it was late.

It was also high time to text Lawr and Robin.

But I decided to phone Mickey.

Lawr and Robin texted back with different but equally elated responses.

Mickey was giving his verbally.

“It’s actually Lawrie’s doing,” I told him. “He called them a while ago and gave them a talking to.”

“Just a catalyst to finish the work you been doin’, darlin’,” Mickey replied. “Don’t give away credit you should take.”

That was when it happened. I didn’t know why that was what made it happen. But it happened.

And my soft sob was audible.

“Fuck, Amy,” Mickey whispered.

“I missed them,” I whispered back, my voice husky and trembling.

“Can’t imagine, don’t want to, baby, but they’re back. Rejoice.”

“I am, Mickey. These are happy tears,” I told him.

“Then I won’t walk over and jimmy up your window so I can climb in and take care of you.”

God, he was a good man.

And suddenly, I wished they were sad tears.

“You could still do that,” I told him.

“How about we don’t introduce me to your kids with the possibility of them catchin’ me breakin’ into your bedroom?”

I was still crying a little even as I giggled.

“That I like to hear,” he murmured, that murmur underlining his words.

“So, kids DVRing a million programs, do you think that means they’re going to come over and watch them?” I asked hesitantly, wiping away my tears, asking this because I wanted the answer to be a definitive yes, but I was worried it would be an uncertain one.

“Don’t know your kids’ habits, babe, but also do not know a kid who tapes a show they don’t intend to watch. I also know, if they got a million taping, your DVR space is gonna be used up and so they’re gonna have to find a way to clear it somehow, and that shit’s not gonna happen comin’ over once a month.”

That was not definitive.

But I’d take it.

“I should let them know they’re welcome over anytime,” I declared.

“You haven’t already done that?” he asked.

“I should repeat to them perhaps more than once over the next two days that they’re welcome over anytime,” I amended.

I could hear his smile in his, “Good plan.”

“Are you still at the firehouse?” I asked.

“Yep,” he answered.

“I should let you go,” I noted.

“Yeah, but only because I went somewhere to talk privately, the guys have invaded and they’re givin’ me shit for talkin’ to my girlfriend.”

I again very much liked him referring to me as his girlfriend.

But my back went straight. “That isn’t very nice.”

“You got time to kill, apparently they feel in the mood to kill it tonight bein’ assholes.”

I had a feeling this was directed right to guys.

I also had a feeling I really should let Mickey go.

“I’ll help put an end to that and say goodnight,” I offered.

“Okay, darlin’, check in tomorrow.”