Page 65 of Homecoming

Aidan licked his greasy fingers and then aimed one at Leah, not able to keep the smirk off his face. “There’s two of you again, and I’m not digging that.”

“Too bad,” Leah and Ava said in unison, and then traded a look, grinning.

She had no idea why she’d been nervous.

~*~

Carter turned up at Ava and Mercy’s place toting a bottle of white wine under one arm, and a bottle of Johnnie Walker Red for Mercy under the other. He hadn’t even attempted to make any sort of food – that would only lead to food poisoning. He went up the back sidewalk thinking that he’d put on too much cologne, and mulling over Jasmine’s refusal to come. She did have class. But it would let out in about ten minutes, and she definitely could have come late; no one would have minded.

He tried not to examine his own relief too closely. Lately it felt like they were on neighboring rafts, drifting, drifting farther apart as the current carried them downstream. It wasn’t too late to reach out for her; for them to join hands, and draw their lives back together. But he didn’t feel the urge to do so, and he wasn’t sure if he would.

Wasn’t sure if she would, either.

He didn’t bother to knock when he got to the back door; juggled his bottles around, and let himself in. Walked into the kitchen…

And promptly forgot all about the strange evolution of his relationship with Jazz.

The old ladies were in the kitchen. Ava, of course, and Sam, and Whitney.

And Leah.

Who wasn’t an old lady, and who arrested Carter’s immediate attention in a way he hadn’t expected, and couldn’t explain.

Belatedly, he realized he’d come to a halt, clutching his bottles, staring like an idiot.

“Oh, hey,” Ava said, turning toward him. She was nibbling a chip and reached for the wine with her other hand. “Thanks, you didn’t have to.”

“Oh, uh.” He handed it over. “Gotta bring a hostess gift, right? This is for Mercy.” He lifted the Scotch bottle.

Ava smiled. “I figured.”

Behind her, arranging slices of cheese on a platter, Leah looked like she’d come straight from work: her shiny black hair twisted up into a clip, her cream blouse tucked into a high-waisted black skirt printed with loud florals. Her high heels, open-toed and glittery black. Her earrings were black, too, gleaming hoops that bounced softly against the sharp edge of her jaw as she moved.

“Carter.” Ava was still standing in front of him. He snatched his gaze from Leah – wondered what sort of expression he’d been making – and saw her give him a careful once-over, her face settling into lines that held nothing of Maggie’s gentle concern; lines that belonged to her father. Ghost’s unflinching, unforgiving assessment. “Are you okay?”

He must have been blushing before, because he felt the blood drain out of his face. “Yeah. Fine.” His pulse fluttered, high and rapid like it did when the guys started drawing guns and gathering themselves for dangerous moments. “Jazz couldn’t come.”

“That’s too bad,” Ava said, her gaze never wavering. Then she gave a little nod and mercifully looked away. Turned to pluck another chip from the bowl and dunk it in the guacamole on the counter. “The guys are in the living room with the kids. And, look, I talked Leah into coming.”

I noticed, he thought, needing to swallow, suddenly, his throat tight.

Leah’s head lifted, and she glanced toward him, already smiling. “And he comes bearing wine. Nice.”

He smiled, feeling how sideways and awkward it was. What the hell was wrong with him? “I aim to please.”

It was probably his imagination, but he thought her smile widened, that her dark eyes glittered.

She looked pretty tonight. She looked…better than that. Pretty, and put together, and cheerful, and rosy-cheeked from the heat in the kitchen. She didn’t look anything like Jasmine: no come-hither glance, no “baby boy,” no unsubtle tilt of her hips. None of the things he’d come to think of asnormal.

He gave himself a mental shake, because he knew all too well the dangers of that word:normal.

“I’m just gonna…” He pointed toward the living room with the neck of the Scotch bottle, and then headed that way. He told himself he wasn’t fleeing, but that was exactly what it felt like.

~*~

Knocking was polite, so when Reese got to Mercy’s house, he knocked. Ava opened the door, and she wasn’t quite fast enough to cover her surprise at finding him standing on the mat. He’d never sensed that she was afraid of him – truly, never – and she had a way of saying only what was most important that he appreciated. But she hadn’t expected him to turn up tonight, and he felt a momentary twinge of disappointment to realized that he still had a long way to go in his quest to become human. Tenny’s reaction, and his own reading of it, had proved that this afternoon; Ava’s reaction now drove the point home.

“Reese, hey.” She opened the door without hesitation. She’d never been hesitant about letting him into her home, with her children.

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