Page 42 of Fighter
“Then welcome,” I said, “and let me take that.”
She gratefully handed the crock pot over, and the meaty, home-cooked-goodness smell of a pot roast bubbled out. What smelled better than slow cooked potatoes, carrots, onions, or meat on a Sunday afternoon? Absolutely nothing.
Except maybe the waft of coconut that came in with her.
In the kitchen, she unburdened herself of the bags, then extracted a new coloring book, a package of paints, a t-shirt with neon green glitter that saidrockstar,and a giant roll of cookie dough from one.
“From my mother.” She slid the glasses on top of her head. “She moonlights as the Easter bunny.”
My eyes widened. “All of that is from your parents?”
“Yep.”
“Wow. No wonder Ava loves them.” That felt awkward the moment I said it, considering the fact that I had also met them. Was I supposed to love them also? “Meeting your parents was fun,” I added, in case she noticed the stumble.
She illuminated like a Christmas tree.
“They are very fun. I'm glad you got to meet them. They were obviously in love with Ava.” She gestured to the gifts. “So thank you for letting them spoil her.”
“They were so . . .”
“Extra?”
“Bright.” I cracked half a smile. “I was going to say bright. Happy.Fun.My parents were always so serious. The best word for Mom is stressed-out, and Dad . . .” I trailed off. “He was . . . sad.”
Her expression fell. “I read about your Dad. I'm sorry.”
My eyebrow quirked. Dad had committed suicide years ago after a tragic accident left him paralyzed from the waist down. He'd battled hard for years, but finally succumbed to the deep depression that consumed him after.
“Where did you read about him?” I asked.
Not a hint of abashedness showed on her face, even though I was ready to grill her on whatelseshe read about me . . . and whether she believed it. The privacy invasion of the media in my life had been a blitz. Ironically, Sadie had sheltered me from much of it through her job, but once she left, it hit like a firehose. Even now, I still felt twitchy about people knowing anything about me that I hadn’t told them personally.
Serafina waved a hand. “In a magazine or something sometime after the gym opened, I can't remember.”
“It's been hard to work through it because my family isn't big on communicating. There certainly isn't the same sense of support that I saw from your parents, unless you talk about siblings. Maverick has always been in my corner.”
She smiled. “I can tell. You two have always seemed close. I mean, you're not tattoo-level like I am with him, but he seems fond of you.”
A lot of thoughts occurred to me then. About my brother, this conversation, and the thought that had been rotating around my head that told me so much of her brightness probably stemmed from such unconditional parental love. But the one that thought that rose above all centered on her lips.
With forced effort, I pulled the silverware tray out of the dishwasher and focused on that. Serafina grabbed the cookie dough and slipped over to the fridge, her obnoxious slippers wide enough to sweep the floor with.
“I promised Mom I'd let Ava eat some of the cookie dough if you're cool with that, before we make the cookies.”
I shrugged. “Why even bother to bake them?”
“A man after my own heart.”
Something in that phrase caught me. That was Serafina. Her tongue was fast, blithe, and never embarrassed. I couldn't fathom how she did it. Before I could make an awkward response likemarry me right now,she peered around and asked, “Speaking of, where is Ava?”
“Outside with a sprinkler.”
Her head turned to look that way, and I caught her profile. Lovely, sloping nose. Elegant neck. Wild, curly hair. Somehow, it just fit her. The urge to grab her wrist and slam her against my chest was almost overpowering, so I turned back to a stack of clean dishes that sat on the counter before I went full caveman.
“Your parents left?” I asked over my shoulder as I tucked some bowls away.
Serafina dropped onto a stool as the sound of a happy, girlish shriek came from outside. Ava darted by, skirting the edge of the sprinkler like she didn't want to get wet, even though that had been her exact request twenty minutes ago.
