Page 59 of Fight For Us
She was right, I still needed to make room in my closet for Wes’s clothes. Luckily I didn’t have much furniture in there as it was, so it shouldn’t feel too cluttered once he added whatever he was bringing.
I couldn’t believe Wes and Lilly were moving into my small place. We’d be working together, eating together, sleeping together… Not inthatway, although all week I’d stared at the left side of my bed imagining him there. But was I prepared for tornado Wes twenty-four hours a day?
My chest tightened and I paced my room, ruminating about all the changes.
Single parent to having a partner.
One kid to two.
Doing things how and when I wanted, to having to make decisions together.
Oh, God.I think I made a mistake.
“Mom,” Alex peeked in, resting his crutch against my door frame. “When is my sister getting here?”
Just like that, the spiral stopped. Alex wanted this. He was happy, even if he wouldn’t admit it. I could tell. Call it motherly instinct.
“You like calling her that, huh?” I said with a smile.
“I’m getting used to it. It’s not a big deal, Mom.”
“Alright, Mr. Eye Roll. She’ll be here soon. Did you do as I asked and make room in the closet?”
“Yup. But Mom, how are we going to fit her desk in there and all her stuff?”
Fair question. “Once Shawn and Wes get back, we’ll get it all set up. Don’t worry. Why don’t you go hang out on the couch with Aunt Mia while I finish in here.”
I watched him make his way down the hallway, asking myself the same question. This would make for an interesting day.
“Six boxes of cookbooks?” I double-checked my counting and scrunched my nose at Wes. “Does anyone need that many cookbooks?”
“It’s not about need,” he said. “I collect them.”
“You realize that you can pull up any recipe in the world on your handy-dandy iPhone now?” He met my gaze with a glare. “Okay, well what about this box?” I pointed to an open box filled to the brim with license plates. “I’m honestly questioning if you’re a criminal now.”
“They’re vanity plates that I’vebought. I didn’t steal them off peoples cars.” He crossed his arms. “What? You’re telling me you don’t collect anything?”
I picked up a rusty Florida plate and shrugged. “Not since I was a kid. I don’t like clutter.”
“But it’s not clutter if it makes you happy.” I watched with a raised brow as he lovingly stroked the outside of a box.
“Would you like some time alone with your boxes?”
He picked his hand up and smirked. “Funny.”
“Okay, how about this? For now, we put all of this,” I fanned my hand at the dozen or so boxes filled with Wes’s collectibles, “in the storage shed.”
He rubbed his chin and finally huffed in agreement. “But first thing tomorrow we need to buy a dehumidifier and air purifier to go in there.”
“Deal,” I said while mentally thanking whatever higher power being saved me from having to stare at a wall of hideous license plates.
He stretched his arms above his head with a groan. “I’ll go check in on the kids and see if they’re ready for bed before I shower. You need anything from the kitchen?”
“I’m fine.” I pushed a box against the wall and yawned. My muscles were screaming at me to relax, but there was so much left to do to get this place organized. I stood up from my stooped position to find Wes watching me with his arms crossed. “What?”
“We’ve been at it since seven this morning. Let’s call it a night. We have work tomorrow and then Alex’s appointment.”
“But it’s a mess,” I groaned.
