Page 6 of Playing With Fire
Chapter 4
Hudson
“Hey Mons,” I greet my sister as I walk into her kitchen, relishing the air-conditioned space. Outside, it’s already thick and wet with humidity even though it’s only eight o’clock Saturday morning. Monica rolls her eyes at me from her seat at the table, not bothering to ask if I need help with the bags loaded on my forearms.
“I hate when you call me that. I’m thirty-six years old, Hud. I don’t wantpubic boneas a nickname anymore.”
I laugh. Getting under my big sister’s skin is my favorite thing to do.
Shrugging, I flash her an innocent look. “At least I dropped thepubispart.”
“God, you’re annoying.”
That may be true, but she’s smiling as she says it, and that’s my main goal these days. Make Monica smile.
“Where do you want these?” I ask, holding up the bags.
She nods her head to a spot next to her. “Right here is fine. I appreciate you picking the order up on your way over,” she says, shuffling papers intoneat piles.
“Are you excited for the kids to start daycare?” I make small talk even though she’s clearly trying to work.
“I have mixed feelings,” she admits.
My niece and nephew are four and three respectively. My sister became a single-mom and a widow all at once when my brother-in-law, who also happened to be my best friend, was killed by a drunk driver. Camden and Ally will grow up not remembering their father while the bastard who killed him got off on a fucking technicality.
That’s part of the reason my sister is going back to work as an ADA. She wants to ensure no more assholes walk because of mistrials and corrupt officials.
Monica has abandoned the papers on the table and is putting something away in the cabinet to my left when I grab her shoulders and force her to look at me. We share similar features except she’s the bite-sized version of my six-foot-two frame.
“Monny, putting your kids in daycare so that you can go back to work and support them, does not make you a bad parent. Camden and Ally will be just fine.” I drop my hands from her shoulders before she can start crying, and nudge her hip with mine. “I mean, we went to daycare and look how awesome we turned out.”
She smiles at me and shakes her head.
“I appreciate you taking the kids down to the beach today. I know between your new route and the fire station you don’t have many days off, but it’s really helpful so I can get a few things done before starting on Monday.”
At the mention of the beach—even though she’s referring to the sandy swim area at the lake and not therealbeach—I immediately think of Will, and a sharp pain lances through my chest again. I’ve avoided the real beach ever since he died. Will, Monica, and I grew up in southern Florida and I’ve alwaysbeen drawn to the water. It used to bring me such comfort and joy. I was stationed in coastal cities for a lot of my military career and I swear it’s what kept me sane.
But Monny and Will moved to North Carolina for Will’s job right before Ally was born and when it was time to get out of the service, I knew I’d land wherever they were. But it doesn’t mean I don’t miss our coastal Florida town like crazy. Or the beach in general. Or my best friend.Especiallymy best friend.
My sister’s voice brings me back to the present. “I just haven’t had a haircut in a while and I’d like to look my best when I have to be in court. I thought I’d have more time, but when that idiot got caught banging the prosecuting attorney, I got reassigned and I’m a little unprepared.”
I offer my sister the comfort she seeks. “You’re going to crush the new job, Mon. Hell, you’re overqualified. And at least this way they don’t have you making copies and doing coffee runs. You’ll get your feet wet right away and it’s just like riding a bike. It’ll all come back to you.” Like a lot of women, Monica stopped working when she had Ally. Her favorite thing ever is being a mom, but alas, Will’s life insurance will only carry them so far.
She blows out a breath and wraps her arms around my torso in a hug.
“Thanks, Hud. I don’t know that anyone is overqualified to be an ADA though. I carry the same credentials as the rest of them and a lot less experience.” She pulls away from me and I busy myself with the rest of her groceries as I tell her the next part. Too much intense emotion still makes her breakdown pretty easily.
“But you can read people and a room like no one I’ve ever met,” I explain. “More than a degree and book smarts are needed for that job and you have the compassion andintuition, not to mention the balls of steel, to make you a perfect fit.”
She smiles and squeezes my shoulder, but stays silent, alerting me to the emotion stuck in her throat.
Giving her a moment to herself, I walk into the living room and find my niece and nephew playing some version of pretend restaurant. After dutifully ordering chocolate ice cream, a cheeseburger, and a pancake, I scoop the kids up, one in each arm, and bounce them around until their giggles have me laughing too.
“You sure you can handle this alone?” Monica asks, coming into the room to help me wrangle two sets of legs into swim jammers.
“I won’t be alone. Phoenix and Knox are meeting me at the beach.”
“Oh, God. Don’t let them corrupt my sweet babies.”
