“Lydie talked about you all the time,” he announced.
That felt lovely, very lovely, but even so, I wished I could say the same.
However, I didn’t get to the chance to say anything because he kept speaking.
“You’re way prettier than she said and all your pictures.”
At least that was nice.
I decided a return compliment was in order so I gave him one.
“And you’re quite handsome.”
He grinned a grin I had to admit was rather adorable.
“Yeah. I know. Look like Dad and he’s the hottest dude in town,” he declared.
This was likely not in error.
“He is not,” Amber put in at this point, shoving forward and doing it grabbing her brother and taking him with her as they pushed past me. “Mickey’s way hotter than Dad. And Coert might be even hotter”
“Are not,” Ethan returned as they moved into the house.
“Are so,” she retorted. “And everyone knows Boston Stone is Magdalene’s most eligible bachelor.”
To that, I would disagree. Mr. Stone may be wealthy but money was not everything.
“Boston Stone may be loaded, Amber, but he’s not all that. And anyway, his name is retarded,” Ethan shot back.
I would use a less offensive adjective but it seemed Ethan and I were of like minds.
“Josie.” I heard murmured from close.
I started and looked up just in time to see that Jake was close. Very close. Close enough to curve his fingers around my hip, lean in and brush his lips against my cheek.
Oh my.
Again, he smelled very nice, his scent assaulting my senses in a way that was far from unpleasant.
He pulled back and as he did so, I attempted to pull myself together. However, this was difficult seeing as, in the dim light of the foyer, his eyes had again changed color. They appeared now to be an inky blue.
With effort, I took my thoughts from his mercurial eye color and greeted, “Hello, Jake.”
He grinned.
Then he used his hand on my hip to shove me gently in the house before he let me go to close the door.
When I just stood there staring up at him, he tipped his head toward the house as an indication we should enter it and I decided to stop making an idiot of myself and get moving.
This I did, hurrying down the hall toward the kitchen.
The instant I hit the room, Ethan turned his eyes to me and exclaimed, “It smells boss!”
“Jesus Christ, it does, Josie,” Jake agreed, coming to a stop beside me. “Wasn’t hungry, smell that smell, now I’m starved.”
I had no idea why but their comments made me feel suddenly very warm.
“It smells like meat,” Amber oddly declared and I looked to her.
“It smells like a lotta shit, Amber, but not meat,” Jake replied.
She ignored her father, looked to me and announced. “I’m a vegetarian.”
“Yeah, she decided that this morning,” Jake noted at my side.
“Killing animals for human consumption is disgusting,” she informed her father.
“Wonder what killing daughters for bein’ pains in the ass is,” Jake muttered in a voice that could likely only be heard by me and I found his remark so amusing I had to swallow down a laugh.
“Holy crap!” Ethan cried and my eyes shot to him to see he was now standing in the open refrigerator. He slowly turned, pointing inside the fridge, and asked with open wonder, “What is that?”
I looked into the refrigerator then back at Ethan. “It’s a pavlova.”
“It’s a what?” he queried.
“A pavlova. Meringue, cream and strawberries. We’re having it for dessert,” I replied then turned my gaze to Amber. “In your vegetarianism, do you eat eggs?”
“Yes,” Jake answered for his daughter.
“No,” Amber answered for herself at the same time.
“This is unfortunate as meringues are made of egg whites,” I shared with her.
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” she returned. “I don’t eat dessert. My ass is already fat enough.”
I looked down to her ass and saw she was very wrong.
I didn’t address this mistaken impression of her body, although I had a strange and overwhelming desire to do so. This was partly because I didn’t know what to say. It was mostly because Ethan had taken a blue beverage from the refrigerator that I’d noticed prior and wondered about (thus wondering no longer) and Amber had turned her attention to her brother.
“Get me one of those, runt,” she demanded.
“You want one, don’t call me a runt,” he rejoined.
She gave him a face.
He returned it.
“Grab me a beer, will you, bud?” Jake called, moving deeper into the room.
I moved into it too, stating, “Dinner is almost ready. We’ll be eating shortly as I didn’t want to delay you should you need to get home early in order to take care of the class gerbil or do homework or something.”
“Their homework’s out in the truck, Josie,” Jake told my back.
“And we got a hamster in class, not a gerbil. But I never get to watch him seein’ as I killed the last one when it was my turn to take him home for the weekend,” Ethan also shared this relatively dire information with my back.
I turned to him and the room to see father and son had drinks and Amber’s head was in the fridge.
They seemed comfortable here and I knew they were because they’d been in that kitchen time and time again.
It was still strange.
And it was also strangely welcome.
“Dad said it was his time,” Ethan shared. “Not because I dropped him on his head.”
I blinked.
“He was squirrely. He didn’t want me to hold him and he got his way,” Ethan further explained.
I said nothing.
“Don’t worry, honey, we bought the class another hamster,” Jake assured me.
Before I could reply, Ethan dashed to me and asked, “Can I help with something?”
“Well, you could but most everything is done. I just have to mash the potatoes,” I told him.
“I can so mash potatoes. Lydie taught me how,” he declared.
She’d taught me how too. And knowing she taught him how made me feel even warmer.
I didn’t share this.
“All right then.” I moved to the stove. “Let’s get these drained and get you started.”
“Amber, babe, put another place setting on the table.” I heard Jake order quietly as Ethan shadowed me carrying my pan of boiled potatoes from Aga to sink.
Thus commenced the final preparations for dinner where not only Ethan but everyone got in on the act.
I found in supervising him that Ethan was expert at mashing potatoes.
I also found that Amber knew where everything was and put another place setting on the kitchen table that I’d already prepared (I felt a family dinner should be consumed in the kitchen, not made formal in the dining room, so that was where we were to eat).
Even Jake helped and he did this by ordering Amber to assist with putting the peas, carrots and corn in bowls and working alongside her, putting the warmed rolls in a basket.
When I approached the table with the main dish, all was on it. Jake had even put my wineglass and the bottle of wine I’d opened earlier and began consuming while preparing dinner by my seat at the end.
“Shit, babe, you made meatloaf?”
My alarmed eyes cut to Jake to see him staring at the dish I was arrested in the endeavor of putting it on the table.
He was also smiling which was contradictory to his tone and thus confusing.
“Rosemary meatloaf with a tomato-based sauce,” I told him.
“It…smells…awesome!” Ethan announced, his big eyes on the meatloaf.