Page 67 of Vicious Arrangement
There’s salad waiting to be dressed, and the cake I made looks sad next to the cupcakes.
“Josh is going to be in heaven with two lots of cake,” Asher says, pulling out wine and whiskey and offering me a choice. “Sorry Noah isn’t here yet. I called him about three times today, so he knows we’ll be here now. So he’ll rock up.”
“Whiskey, please.”
Asher knows his way around. He puts some ice in glasses and pours some, stealing a cherry tomato from the salad. Then he leans on the counter as I fuss with dressing, the other thing I can make, as long as lemon, oil, salt, pepper and a touch of garlic is as complicated as it gets.
He looks around. “Y’know, Alonso has a herb garden, if you’re interested.”
“I’m not much of a cook.”
“It smells good.”
“Bolognese.” I take a swallow. “Katie’s sick, she’s disappointed she couldn’t come.”
His face falls a little, even as he tries to hide it and it lifts me inside. “That’s okay, we can all?—”
“We should send her some pics of us, Josh and Angus. She’ll love it.”
“Sounds fun.” He grins. “Can I help with anything?”
Just like that, he slides into a familiar place, like an old friend, and we laugh, dog and boy in our line of sight as we prep two lots of bread: cheesy garlic bread for Josh and slices for us. Then we pick at the cheese and fruit plate I made as we talk about life, careers and nothing at all, skirting around Noah.
Of course, I tell him all about Katie.
When seven comes and goes, a familiar heaviness settles in my stomach. It’s like the first meeting all over again, but I refuse to let it. We take the nibbles, one of the fresh juices for Josh, and the whiskey into the great room, letting the wine breathe.
I’m in love with Josh, he’s sweet and good with Angus, and Angus loves him, following him when he rushes up to give me a drawing he did of me, his dad, him and Angus. Then one of Noah and all of us.
“These are wonderful, Josh,” I say.
He beams. “I love you, Ara.”
Angus barks ,and then the kid and dog take off, back to their spot.
“You’ve done such a great job with him.” I pause as we both sip our drinks. “What about his mom?”
An old, worn sadness, warm with memory and time, comes over his face. “She passed a few years back. I’m doing my best for Joshy, but it’s hard. I’m also lucky I’ve had Noah as a friend. He helps out a lot with Josh. If I need someone for him, he’s there. He’s a great godfather, hands-on, and supportive of Joshy. I don’t allow money, but love and emotional support, and just being. Don’t tell him, but he’ll be one hell of a father. I see it in the way he is with Josh and how he treats him like he’s his own kid.”
I smile and nod, but shockwaves roll through me. Are we talking about the same man here?
Near eight, there’s still no sign of Noah. I call, but he doesn’t answer. And Josh is tired and hungry and grizzly. So… fuck it. I finish dinner by just popping the bread in the oven for the garlic bread and the pasta in the simmering water.
Annoyance nibbles at me. Noah could have made an effort. After all, he’s the fucking president and he knew what this meant for me.
But I push it aside as we eat, and Josh has a grand time, loving his dinner and getting it all over his face and the floor, which Angus thoughtfully cleans.
When Josh’s finished, he looks at us. “Cake?”
“After we clean you up, kid.” Asher picks him up and carries him off to the bathroom as I clean the floor from dog and boy, along with the table, I load the dishwasher and send a gleeful steal text to Katie, along with some photos I took.
How cute is Josh?
Katie:Rude. I wanna be there.
Me:He’s def single.
Katie:I hope so, he’s a child.
