Page 71 of The Moment We Know

Paige had chuckled, then said, “Actually, now that I think about it, we might have looked more awkward, because he isn’t stepping on her dress.”

“Ouch.”

“Speaking of which … how many times did you step on mine?”

“Only two or three times, thank you. Maybe five. But in my defense, your skirt was too long.”

“That was the train, and they’re supposed to be long. Anyway, it would’ve been fine, if you hadn’t kept twirling me around like we were in a Fred Astaire movie.”

“Well, I had to do something, otherwise we would’ve looked like … that,” he’d told her, giving a quick head tilt to the bride and groom, who’d been basically just holding onto one another and barely moving at that point.

Paige had been on the verge of saying something, when one of her waitstaff came up and whispered in her ear.

“Oh, shit, no,” Paige had groaned. “I’ll be right there.”

“What’s wrong?” he’d asked.

“The cash bar somehow became an open bar, and—”

“Oh, I did that. I made it an open bar.”

“You did what?”

“Don’t worry. I’m going to pay for it.”

She’d stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “Why would you do that?”

“It’s not a big deal. Hell, it’s only beer for the most part. And if the bride and groom are strapped financially, I imagine most of their guests, are too. So, I’m just helping out.”

She’d practically knocked him over with a hug, then left on the pretext of needing to check on the bar anyway, but not before he’d seen how much his kind generosity had meant to her.

All in all, it had been a good afternoon, but now, David was about ready to die; he didn’t know how Paige did it almost every weekend.

“I am tired,” he told his mom as they made their way into the kitchen, where Jacob was eating his dinner. After rubbing the top of his son’s head, David gratefully took a seat at the table and accepted a bowl of macaroni and cheese. Not wanting his mom to think he was worn out from twenty-four hours of sex with Paige, he explained why he’d needed to have Jacob watched all afternoon. “Something came up with a … friend. They needed help at work, so I decided to help them set up a room for a reception—”

“What’s that?” Jacob asked, a mouth full of macaroni.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” David automatically corrected him, before answering. “It’s like a party.”

“A birthday party?”

“Sort of.” David turned back to Valerie. “Anyway, that’s what we were doing. It’s a lot of work, but I didn’t want them doing it alone, so …”

“Your … friend … must have really appreciated your help.”

“They did. And honestly, I don’t know how they do this all the time. And in heels—”

“Heels?” Jacob asked.

“They’re shoes,” David answered. “And,” he said to Valerie, “when I left, they still had another party to get through.”

Jacob set his spoon in his bowl. “I’m done.”

“All right,” David told him. “Put your bowl on the counter by the sink and then go pack up your stuff. Then make sure your bathroom is clean—” he stopped at Jacob’s look of dismay, to add dryly, “I’m not asking you to mop the floor or scrub the toilet, just to round up your bath toys and put them away. You play, you put away, right?”

“Right.”

Looking like he’d been sentenced to hard labor in a Russian gulag, Jacob put his bowl on the counter and then left the kitchen.

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