Page 38 of Hold You Close
Giving me one more of his cocky grins, he picks up a leather messenger bag from the floor near the front door, slings it over his shoulder, and heads out.
As soon as the door shuts behind him, I exhale and fan my face. Damn him for looking so good in that suit. And for telling me to sleep in his bed. And for putting all kinds of terrible ideas in my head.
I cannot let him get to me.
I head back to the kitchen and start loading the dishwasher, asking Ruby about her day at school and her upcoming dance recital. While I’m thinking about it, I grab my phone from my purse and text Ian the dates.
Me:Friday, June 16th and Saturday, June 17th are Ruby’s dance recitals. You’ll have to get that weekend off or go in late.
Since he’s still drivingto work, he won’t reply for a while, so I set my phone aside. “How’s the homework coming, Morgan?” I ask.
“Fine,” she says from the couch. “I finished math and science, now I just have to read.”
“Aunt London, can I be done?” Ruby gives me a plaintive look from her chair at the counter.
I take a look at her plate and see that she’s eaten most of her chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese. “Ruby, what else did you have for dinner? Did Uncle Ian make you any vegetables?”
“No. He said we could pick what we wanted.”
Of course he did. He probably told them to cook it themselves, too. Sighing, I pick up her plate and carry it to the sink. “Well, you should have something healthy. Can I slice an apple for you?”
“Okay.”
I take an apple from the bowl of fruit on the counter, which I’m happy to see because it means he at least purchased some healthy options from the store. Now I just have to get him to understand that the kids need to actuallyeatthem. After cutting it up, I put half the slices on a plate for Ruby and bring the other half to Morgan in the living room. While they nibble on them, I prepare a plate for Christopher, since I know he’ll be hungry when he gets home from basketball—pasta and meatballs with tomato sauce, and broccoli with lemon. The meatballs were frozen and the sauce is from a jar, but it’s better than what the girls ate. There are enough leftovers for dinner tomorrow night, or even for Ian to eat when he gets home from work if he’s hungry. I put it all into plastic containers, label them with sticky notes, and put them in the fridge. When that’s all done and the kitchen is clean, I ask the girls if they have any laundry they need done.
“Yes,” calls Morgan. “It’s in my room on the floor.”
Of course it is.
“Ruby, what about you?” She’s still wearing her leotard and tights from dance class, but I know she’ll need them again for Saturday. “Do you need me to wash your ballet clothes? Or do you have extra?”
“I have extra. Can I color?” she asks, sliding off her chair.
“Sure, honey.” We locate some paper and the art supplies Sabrina’s mom had the foresight to pack up and bring here from their house, and I leave her sitting at the kitchen table.
Then I grab my phone and find a message from Ian.
Ian:Don’t tell me what to do, woman.
Idiot.But I’m grinning.
Me:I wouldn’t have to if you were a grown up all the time.
Ian: Growing up is overrated.
Me: Clearly.
Ian: Heading to the back room where I have no service. But I have one question, do you sleep naked?
Oh my God.He’s so ridiculous.
Me:You’ll never know.
Ian hasa first-floor laundry room off the hallway between his bedroom and the kitchen, and I grab an empty basket from it and head upstairs, still smiling from our text exchange. In Morgan’s room, it’s just as she says—clothes are everywhere, and I can hardly tell what’s dirty and what’s clean. I guess as well as I can, sticking some things in the basket and folding the rest, placing things in drawers. In Ruby’s room, I find her nightgown and school clothes on the floor, and add them to the basket.
Christopher’s room already smells like a teenage boy, and I’m a little leery about invading his privacy, so I skip it, deciding I’ll simply stick an empty basket in his room and let him fill it.
Back in the laundry room, I fill the washer and turn it on before joining Ruby at the table.
