“Thanks. I’m glad you thought so.”
Feet pounded down the stairs from above and the two younger girls crashed into the living room, their arms full of dolls. They froze when they saw an unfamiliar face at the table.
“Mom, who’s that?” Grace asked, staring at him.
“This is Andy. He’s Emily’s friend.”
Grace broke into a big grin. “Oh. You’re her boyfriend.”
Andy tried to smile but his teeth got stuck on his lips and his cheeks burned an even darker shade of red.
“Grace,” I said, frowning. “He’s her friend. How about if you girls play upstairs?”
“Where’s Emily?” Sophie asked. She peered at Andy through her glasses. “Or did you come by yourself?”
“Uh,” Andy said. “I’m not really sure. I think she’s doing laundry?”
“Oh,” Sophie said, as if it made perfect sense for her older sister to be doing chores while a strange boy sat at the table with her stepmom. “Okay. Come on, Grace. Let’s go.”
She bounded back up the stairs. Grace gave Andy one more hard stare, then scurried after her.
“Sorry about that,” I said. “Grace is a little… nosy.”
“I have a little sister,” he said. “It’s okay.”
Andy was a nice kid and despite my questioning and Grace’s questions, he’d remained mostly unflappable. I was starting to feel a little guilty about sending Emily down to the basement. She and I could have a discussion about bringing boys home later. I didn’t need to make her pay for it while he was there.
“Let me go grab Em,” I said, standing up. “Give me just a minute?”
“Sure.”
I jogged down the basement stairs. Emily was up on the step stool, her eyes shut tight, steeling herself for going into the crawl space.
“Stop,” I said.
Her eyes flew open.
“Go back upstairs. And hang out with your...Andy.”
She turned around, her cheeks flushed, strands of hair flying all over the place. “I didn’t get the scissors yet.”
“It’s fine,” I said, waving her off. “Go.”
She jumped off the stool. “Why did you come home?”
“Because you asked me to stay out of my own house while you brought a boy home,” I said pointedly. “But we can talk about that later. Right now, a very nice, patient young boy is waiting on you upstairs.”
“Do I look terrible?” she asked, running her hands through her hair.
I looked at her long brown hair and blue eyes and perfectly pink lips. There was nothing terrible looking about her. “No. Go.”
She took a couple of steps and then stopped. “Wait. Did you tell him anything about me?”
“Nothing too embarrassing. Yet.” I pointed at the stairs. “Go. And keep the door to your room open.”
She huffed, irritated, then hustled up the steps.
I took a deep breath.
She’d been a teenager for several years, but now that she was inviting boys over to the house, it appeared as if we were in the throes of teenage hormones and insanity. Emily was a good kid but that didn’t mean it was going to be a smooth ride. I knew better. I’d been a teenage girl, too.
And that was enough to make me hustle back up the stairs to keep an eye on them.
THIRTEEN
“There was a boy? In this house?” Jake asked as we got into bed later that night.
Andy’s mother, Catherine, picked him up at four-thirty on the button, thanking us profusely for giving him temporary housing. I’d assured her it was no big deal. She was as nice and polite as I’d found Andy to be. Emily quickly disappeared back into her room after he left and the other kids peppered her with questions during dinner until I shut them down. Jake had worked late, missing out on the drama, so I was filling him in.
“There’s usually two boys, hello. You and Will.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes, there was an unfamiliar boy in our house this afternoon,” I said. “And he was perfectly polite and nice. And cute.”
“Did you tell him we put the dead bodies in the basement?” he asked.
“Ha. No. There was no need. He was a very nice kid. And do you remember the kid that was hanging around her at the talent show? The one with the violin?”
“I do.”
I tapped him on the chest. “That’s Andy. That’s him.”
Jake grunted. “Hmm. Still. You should’ve mentioned the dead bodies and that he would fit nicely in the secret underground body holding cell.”
“She’s a teenager. There are going to be boys,” I reminded him. “You were a boy.”
“Yeah and you remember what I was like in high school, don’t you?”
I did. He’d been handsome and funny and a smart ass and a terrific kisser. He hadn’t really changed all that much.
“I do,” I told him. “And I’d be thrilled if Emily found a boy like you.”
“They will try to touch her,” he warned. “And kiss her. And… and do the other things!”
I patted his chest. “Yes. Because this is the real world and we have an attractive daughter who likes boys. Life happens.”
He groaned. “I don’t like thinking about that. I wanna be here the next time Randy comes over.”
“Andy.”
“Whatever. I need to have a talk with him.”
I laughed and shook my head. I loved that he thought of Emily as his own. We’d never really done the whole awkward stepparent thing. Given that their own dad wasn’t around all that often, all three of my own kids had taken to Jake immediately and he’d reciprocated. They didn’t call him dad but he was the one who helped Emily with projects; he was the one who threw the football around with Will and analyzed game scores; he was the one who’d taught Grace how to swim. There hadn’t been an awkward transitional period of everyone feeling each other out and getting to know each other. We’d just sort of become a family, just like that.
But he was a bit of an overprotective bear and I was going to have to try to temper that.
A knock on the door interrupted us.
“Come in,” he said.
The door squeaked open and Emily poked her head in. “Not asleep yet?”
“Nope,” he said. “Come on in.”
She shuffled into the room, her hair wet from her shower, her long-sleeve T-shirt spattered with drops of water. She perched herself on the foot of the bed. “So.”
“So,” I said.
“Am I in trouble?” she asked.
“For trying to bring a boy home and get me to stay away from the house?” I said. “Trouble is probably a little too strong. But you do need to be admonished.”
She frowned. “What does that even mean?”
“It means that if Andy is going to be a regular visitor to our home, we need to lay down some ground rules,” I explained.
“And rule number one is that I have to be home the next time any boy comes over,” Jake said.
“Why?” Em asked.
“So I can inspect them. And put the fear of me into them.”
Emily opened her mouth to protest but I cut her off.
“Ignore him,” I told her. “But let’s get clear on the rules. First off, no boys in the house unless an adult is home. Period.”
“He didn’t have anywhere to go,” she objected.
“He could’ve stayed at school,” I said. “And you could’ve asked me to come home so I’d be here. Instead, you tried to get cute. Unfortunately for you, your mother is sharp like broken glass and I sniffed out your little plan.”
“Nothing was going to happen, Mom.” Her eyes were wide. “I swear.”
“And I believe you,” I told her. “But no boys in the house unless I’m home or Jake’s home.”
She frowned, but nodded. “Okay.”
“Rule number two,” I said. “If you decide you’re going to have sex with—”
“Mom!!!”
“—Andy, then let me know and we can talk about contraceptive options.”
“Oh my God, Mom. Just stop.”
Jake was trying not to laugh.