Page 36 of Flirtatious

“Okay. She doesn’t work, but they need a housekeeper who lives there with them. I guess I get it.”

His disapproval of the Brady household situation comes through loud and clear, but I don’t bother trying to explain that what the mom does isn’t really the focal point of the show. He’ll get that as we watch the episodes.

I point the remote at the TV again to increase the volume and look over at him sitting next to me. “Ready? We’re going to start from the beginning so you have a true understanding of this show.”

With a smile, he says, “This feels like we should have popcorn or something.”

“Maybe, but we’ll get to that later. For now, you need to get this culture into your brain, Liam. Settle in and enjoy the greatest TV show of the seventies.”

By the time the ending credits run on episode one, Liam is lying back on the bed with his hands behind his head like he’s about to start doing crunches. The look on his face has changed from unsure to curious to disbelieving, but I remain undaunted in my quest to show him what he needs to know about The Brady Bunch.

He turns his head to look over at me and asks in a voice that tells me he’s not yet seeing the true greatness of my favorite old show, “So you’re telling me the parents felt bad and took their kids and the housekeeper on their honeymoon with them?”

“And the dog,” I say with a giggle. “Don’t forget the dog. They wouldn’t leave Tiger behind.”

“Of course. I guess if Alice can come along, why not bring the dog too?”

“See? Now you’re getting it!” I squeal with excitement. “I’m going to grab us something to snack on and drinks. You start the next episode and I’ll be back soon.”

“Are we just going in order?”

I think about the episodes I like and shake my head. “No. I think we should jump to episode three. It’s very cute. You enjoy, and I’ll be back.”

Before he can say another word, I rush out of the room, glancing back one last time to see him still lying back on the bed. Jesus, it should be illegal for a man who looks that good to wear those gray sweatpants. Seriously.

Ainsley and Mitchell are sitting in the living room and see me rush down the stairs toward the kitchen. Naturally, she follows me, curious to know what I’m up to since I must seem far more excited than usual.

As I grab a blue plastic bowl out of the cabinet for the popcorn, she comes up behind me and whispers, “What’s the bowl for?”

I open and close cabinet door after cabinet door while I search for popcorn to pop. “Popcorn.”

“If Mitch sees you eating that much popcorn, he’s going to have you running until you drop!” she exclaims far too loudly.

Spinning around to face her, I put my finger to my lips. “Shhhh! I don’t need that tonight, okay? I’m just finding some snacks while I watch some TV, so go back in the living room and keep him out of here.”

“Want some company?”

I shake my head but don’t explain I already have company. Ainsley doesn’t like Liam, and I’m not in the mood to defend that I do right now.

“Clearly, we don’t have any popcorn,” I say as I close the final cabinet where food is stored. Then I remember the cook reorganized the kitchen a couple months ago and put everything like snacks in the pantry.

Ainsley follows me there as I search for what’s become the elusive popcorn I can’t seem to locate. “So what are you watching all alone up there?”

I look through shelf after shelf to find no popcorn. Damn! There is a bag of chips and a half-finished bag of pretzels I’m sure Mitchell would have a fit about if he saw them, though.

Oh, well. They’ll have to do.

“Why won’t you answer me? You’re acting very weird tonight, Mia,” Ainsley says behind me as I tear open the bag of chips and dump them into the bowl.

“Just in a hurry. That’s all. We can talk tomorrow, okay?” I say, turning around to give her a smile I hope will make her happy.

Armed with my big bowl of chips and half a bag of pretzels, I head back to the refrigerator out in the kitchen. Do we even have soda in the house these days? Once Mitchell said no more ever again right before the last tour, I had the cook stop buying it, but I think that assistant of my mother’s sneaks some in since I’ve seen her drinking glasses full of something that looks like cola.

I search but find nothing except iced tea. That’s okay. I like iced tea, and I’m betting Liam isn’t a big soda drinker anyway. Now all I need are the glasses.

Setting the jug of iced tea, the bowl of chips, and the bag of pretzels on the countertop, I grab two glasses and tuck them under my arm. If I arrange this right, I should be able to carry all of this upstairs without dropping a thing.

“What do you need two glasses for? I thought you were watching TV alone in your room,” Ainsley says, refusing to curb her curiosity.

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