Stamp Me Approved

 

“Truth be told!” Mrs. Porter shrieked at the TV.

“Jesus, what is that?” Lawrie asked in my ear as I moved away from the lounge at Dove House with my phone.

“Mrs. Porter. Wheel of Fortune.” I shared. “She got it on only the r.”

“Impressive,” he replied. “But are your ears bleeding?”

I grinned. “Since they got a TV they can actually see, Wheel of Fortune gets extreme. And you don’t want to be anywhere near the lounge during Jeopardy.”

I heard Lawrie chuckling.

My grin turned into a smile as I got into a much quieter hall, leaned against a wall between two residents’ rooms and gave him my attention.

“Why are you calling, big brother?”

“The invitation still stands, I’m coming for Thanksgiving.”

I felt joy.

Then I felt fear.

“Mariel?” I asked.

“Only me.”

I felt more fear. “Not the boys?”

“It’s time they got used not having me around, even on special occasions.”

Oh no.

“Lawrie,” I whispered. “Marriage counselling isn’t working?”

“Our counselor never touches us,” he told me. “Never even looks like she’s going to. Last session, she grabbed Mariel’s hand for no purpose except, my guess, to see if she had a pulse.”

I didn’t laugh. His words were funny but the tone he delivered them in was not amusing.

I pushed away from the wall and wandered further down the hall saying, “I’m so sorry.”

“I wanted to know.”

I stopped and braced because now he was being quiet but fierce.

“Wanted to know what, honey?” I asked softly.

“What went wrong,” he answered instantly. “What I was doing that took her away from me. I wanted to know. I didn’t care what it was. How big. How small. How petty. If she’d mentioned some bracelet she had to have that I didn’t notice she’d asked for and I didn’t get her. If she was hurt I stopped telling her she was beautiful. I wanted to know so I could change it. I wanted to know what took away the girl I fell in love with so I could get her back. The girl who made me laugh. The girl who’d ruin a complicated soufflé and toss it in the trash without giving that first shit and pull out Chips Ahoy and slather them in Cool Whip for dessert. Rather than that being something that heralded an ice storm the boys and me would have to endure for a week. The girl who wanted nothing more than to stay in bed naked all day with me. I wanted to know how she became our mother. I wanted to know why she surpassed that until we had nothing.”

I closed my eyes and leaned a shoulder against the wall at hearing my brother’s pain.

“During your counselling, she gave you nothing?” I asked.

“Once the dread sock situation was outed, she’s hardly said anything in our sessions. Once a week she sits there barely moving with her arms crossed on her chest and her eyes to her knees. Her expression doesn’t even change. I lay it out. I even throw out the ugly just to see if I can get her to react to something. Nothing, MeeMee. It’s so bad even our counselor suggested a trial separation, and I think she did in an effort to put me out of my misery. The fuck of that is it’s humiliating. In fact, the whole fucking thing is humiliating.”

I hated that.

I hated that for my glorious big brother Lawrie.

He was not short like me. He was tall and straight and lean and commanding, like my dad.

But he had great, thick, dark hair that now had silver in it that was attractive (which was like mine, without the dye job and highlights, obviously).

And we shared our hazel eyes.

He got my father’s cut, angular, masculine bone structure that started forming and defining when he was fifteen. So since then, to when he met Mariel, he’d had to beat them off with a stick.

He loved his sons.

He was the youngest attorney in the history of his firm to make partner.

He made a ton of money and just had a ton of money.

He was smart. He had a great sense of humor.

And I remembered. I remembered the way he used to be with her. How she’d walk into the room and everything about him would change. The way he told her she was beautiful, and it wasn’t a throwaway compliment she could settle into, but he did it, each time I heard it, like he meant it and he wanted it to mean something to her.

I also remembered the way he stood at the altar at the church and watched her walk to him with this look of happy, expectant certainty like he just knew their lives would be beauty from that day until they left the earth.

This was why I hated her.

Because she became my mother when he did not become our father, and then she became worse than my mother and doing it, proved him wrong.

“You’re welcome, with the boys, without them, with her, or without,” I assured him. “You’re welcome anytime, Lawrie.”

“Thanks, MeeMee.”

“And I’m so sorry,” I repeated.

“I lived for years stupidly hoping she’d snap out of it or just snap. Let fly what was causing her to be the way she was being. And maybe I should give it longer. But I’m not twenty-five. It isn’t that I didn’t try to talk to her. Take her away for the weekend. Adjust things I was doing in case I hit on the right one. She gives no indication it’s anything but over. The boys are old enough to get it and the fuck of that is, I think for them it’ll be a relief. They love their mother but she isn’t what I want for them because she gives them less than Mom gave you and me. And that’s my biggest fuck up, MeeMee. I should have gotten them away from that a long time ago.”

“Hindsight is twenty-twenty,” I told him.

“And hope is as blind as love,” he told me.

God, but the two men I loved most in this world had taken a licking by the women they gave their hearts to.

I straightened from the wall at that thought because I’d admitted to myself I was falling in love with Mickey.

I’d never admitted I was there.

Since in that moment my brother needed my attention, I shook this off and said, “Come for Thanksgiving and let me, Auden and Pip take care of you.”

“I’ll be there, MeeMee, and I’ll let you know what Mariel and I decide about the boys.”

Whereas I couldn’t wait to have my kids with me for a holiday, she’d probably shrug and say, “Whatever you think is best, Lawrence.”

Lawrie took us off that subject by asking, “Since you brought up Auden and Pip, things still going good with that?”

They were. It had been three days since Mickey and my fight. It was now Monday, his kids were back and as for my kids, the TV visits were continuing. Not to mention Pippa and Polly had a sleepover on Saturday night at my place (Pippa having a sleepover I was happy about, her bringing Polly, who, when she wasn’t being negative she was being mean, not so much).

And that evening, both of my kids were coming over and Auden had said they were spending the night.

We were definitely back. Things were Mom and Kids. It was a different brand of Mom and Kids that meant they had two homes and a divided family, but it was working for us.

I still had concerns there was something not right about it, but they didn’t seem to be cagey about anything. It was just like they wanted to spend time with their mom.

So I was taking it.

I shared all that with Lawrie and ended it, asking, “By the way, have you heard from Mom and Dad?”

“Mom called this weekend. She wanted to know when Mariel was taking her next spa weekend so she could come up. Since every other weekend is a spa weekend for Mariel and we’ve hit that rotation, she’s coming up on Friday. Why?”

Mom and I agreed on very few things. Our mutual dislike of Mariel was one of them. And a shocking twist to this, we both disliked her for the same reason.

Not that Mariel wasn’t the appropriately styled, turned out and behaved wife to a prominent attorney who also was a Bourne-Hathaway (because she was).

But that she didn’t make Lawr happy.

Mom avoided Mariel like the plague.

“I haven’t heard from them for a while. I’ve been emailing but I get nothing,” I explained.

“Neither of them are big on email,” Lawr reminded me.

“I know but they also haven’t phoned or anything. Not in weeks, or, Lawr, maybe even months.”

“They disagreed with you moving across country, MeeMee. Maybe this is your penance. But I’ll talk to Mom when she’s up this weekend. See if I can find out where she’s at with that.”

I knew he’d get nowhere with that. If Mom didn’t feel like sharing, and with her silence she obviously didn’t, she wouldn’t share.

I still said, “I’d appreciate it.”

“Consider it done.”

I smiled and asked, “You going to be okay?”

“In the stages of grief, I’m past denial, anger and bargaining. I’ve hit depression. One more to go and I’m good,” he joked.

I didn’t laugh.

“I’m here, anytime you need me, Lawrie,” I told him.

“I know, sweetheart,” he replied.

“I’ve gotta get back to the residents. Jeopardy is after Wheel of Fortune and the staff try to stick close in case a fight breaks out.”

I was relieved to hear the smile in his voice when he said, “I’ll let you go.”

“Lawrie?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you lots and lots,” I whispered words I’d say to him when he was there for me when we were kids. Putting a Band-Aid on my arm or calamine lotion on my poison ivy or listening to me after a boyfriend broke up with me. In that house with zero love and affection, he was the best brother there could be.

“Love you lots and lots back, MeeMee.”

“See you soon.”

“You will. ’Bye, sweets.”

“’Bye, Lawrie.”

We disconnected and I stared unseeing out the windows of the fire doors at the back of the hall.

I wanted to invite Robin to Thanksgiving.

I knew it would be too soon, maybe for both of them.

So I couldn’t invite Robin to Thanksgiving.

That didn’t stop me from really, really wanting to.

Then, suddenly, I found my hand lifting and my finger sliding across the screen of my phone.

I put it to my ear and heard it ring twice before I got, “Hey, baby.”

“Hey back,” I greeted Mickey then blurted, “I wanna go away with you.”

“Uh…what?”

“Whenever, wherever for however long you want to go. I don’t care. I want you to know I want to go with you. I want to take Pop Tarts and squirtable cheese and crackers, and other food we don’t have to cook that we can eat with our fingers so we can stay in bed naked all day together. I want to go, whenever, wherever, and I want it to be just about you and me.”

There was a moment of silence before he replied gently, “I love that, Amy, I love that you gave that to me. But gotta ask what brought it on.”

“My brother’s marriage is disintegrating.”

“Shit, Amy,” he muttered.

“So you need to know I want that. Not this weekend. Or next. No pressure. Whenever we can do it. Whenever we can fit it in. Whenever we have a day or two or five where we can do that. I just need you to know I want that. I want that with you.”

“We’ll find our time, darlin’,” he told me.

“And,” I swallowed, gathering the courage to go on, “if this keeps growing, I don’t ever want you to forget no matter how many weeks or months or years pass, all you need to do is tell me to pack a bag and I’ll do it, happy to go away with you.”

“Love that too, Amy,” he said softly and he sounded like he did. He sounded like he loved that.

And I loved that sound.

I closed my eyes. “Okay.”

“You okay?”

I opened my eyes. “I hurt for my brother,” I told him. “But I’m fine.”

“Life sucks. But if he’s getting out of a bad situation, it’s his first step to finding some happy.”

“I hope so.”

“It’ll happen. Won’t know when it will happen. But mine moved in right across the street.”

I drew in a sharp breath.

Mickey kept talking like he didn’t just gift me with something precious.

“I got work, babe. Hate it when you’re hurtin’ for your brother, but I gotta go.”

“Okay, Mickey. I’ll let you go.”

“Talk to you later.”

“Yeah. Later, honey. ’Bye.”

“’Bye, babe.”

We disconnected and I drew in another breath.

Mine moved in right across the street.

I let the breath out, smiling.

“Bonnie and Clyde!” I heard shouted in two voices.

Then I heard, “I said it first!”

“You did not!”

“Tell her, Ellen! I said it first!”

“I knew on the n. I didn’t even need the d!”

“Then you should have said it on the n!”

“Ladies—” I heard Mr. Dennison say calmingly.

“Shut it, Charles!”

At that, knowing with brief but alarming experience it was time to take action, I stopped thinking about Lawrie, Robin, Mickey and Thanksgiving and rushed to the lounge.

* * * * *

“It’s all right.”

That came from Auden.

“I think it’s the bomb. Get it, Mom.”

That came from Olympia.

We were in the back den, gathered around the PC and I was showing them the dining room table I was considering purchasing from the New Hampshire furniture company.

When they replied to my email, I found they had a small showroom but none of those pieces, although lovely, were big enough for the space I had. And the one I’d seen on their site had been purchased and was unavailable.

Mostly, however, they did custom designs and builds and the one we were viewing was a build that the people who ordered it had reneged on.

If I wanted it, it would be all mine.

“It works. It’s perfect,” Pippa went on. “And you need to get something. Uncle Lawrie is coming and Thanksgiving is just around the corner.”

I had time but my girl was right. We weren’t going to eat Thanksgiving dinner sitting on the sectional.

“Okay, I’ll get it,” I decided.

“Great. Can I stop looking at furniture now?” Auden asked.

He wasn’t in a surly mood. He was just a boy who didn’t give a fig about dining room tables.

“No,” Pippa answered for me. “We need to look at couches. And Mom, you need to get hopping on the other guest bedroom and get a pullout for in here so Hart and Mercer don’t have to share a room.”

I was looking at her, thinking she was right. I had the desk and chair but there was vast amounts of space in that room that needed filling and the whole room needed decorating.

However, when she quit talking, I reminded her, “Sweets, I explained the boys might not be coming.”

“If they have a choice between Uncle Lawrie and Aunt Frosty, they’ll so be here,” she returned.

My kids called my brother’s wife “Aunt Frosty.”

It was funny.

But it wasn’t nice.

“Aunt Frosty isn’t nice,” I rebuked gently.

She didn’t look contrite. “It isn’t but it’s real.”

I couldn’t argue that.

I still didn’t want my daughter being mean.

“Sometimes we should be careful about calling them as we see them,” I advised. “And especially when Lawr, or if the boys, come. They may be at the beginning of going through something you know from experience is unpleasant, so let’s help them do that better than we got through it, shall we?”

That was when she looked contrite, licked her lips and rolled them together.

“I care less about the guest bedroom, couches and pullouts,” Auden put in. “So now can I stop looking at furniture?”

I rolled my chair slightly back so both kids, gathered around me, moved back too.

After I did this, I said, “Actually, I need you for another little bit to talk to you about something.”

They both donned expressions of wary.

I ignored that and launched in.

“A while ago, we had a discussion about me dating.”

“Yeah, and now you’re dating some Neanderthal,” Pippa declared. “We know.”

My back went straight as I fought a quick retort and instead asked, “How do you know?”

“Dad told us,” Auden answered and my eyes looked to him to see his expression was now carefully blank. “Said we should know in case we see you two in town.”

“And your father called Mickey a Neanderthal?” I queried, my voice thin.

Pippa looked out the window.

Auden shifted but held my gaze and said, “Yeah.”

I fought the itch that was covering every inch of my skin, screaming to get scratched, me doing that meaning I marched to my car, got in it, drove to Conrad’s and shrieked at him for being such a huge…fucking…dick.

But that was the me he made me.

Now I was just me and he was not going to push me into going back.

“Mickey isn’t a Neanderthal,” I told them firmly. “Mickey is a good man who I’ve come to care about quite a bit. I enjoy spending time with him. He feels the same about me. This is something that we both feel is important and we’re both building on that. So since he’s important to me and you’re important to me, I’d like you to meet him.”

“Cool,” Pippa said casually.

I stared at her, shocked at her non-response.

Or, more precisely, her not negative one.

“You should make your pulled barbeque chicken when he comes over. With your homemade coleslaw,” Auden suggested.

I moved my stare to him.

Then I asked, “I…that’s it? Do you have questions? Anything you want to ask me about Mickey?”

“No, why?” Auden asked back.

“It’s about time,” Pip stated before I could answer my son. “You’ve always been pretty and those highlights kick butt. So it’s no surprise you hooked up. And it’s good you have somebody.”

Could it be this easy?

“Pippa, sweets, you should know, it’s that firefighter you saw that day on the street.”

She grinned. “Awesome. He was hot.”

I blinked.

She bent over the computer and commandeered the mouse, saying, “Now, I was looking and I totally dig the whole thing you got going in the other guestroom. I found this bed that was like yin to that yang. From the beach straight to the forest!” she declared and started clicking.

Oh my God.

My daughter had been looking for furniture for the home she shared with me.

And oh my God, my kids didn’t mind that I was dating and wanted them to meet somebody.

I felt something strange and my eyes drifted from my daughter clicking the mouse to my son.

The instant I caught his gaze, he looked away and mumbled, “I approve of everything so don’t bother asking me.”

He then strolled out.

“Look, Mom, here it is! Isn’t this the bomb?” Pippa cried.

I looked at a four-poster bed that looked made of logs.

It was absolutely “the bomb.”

I rolled forward, ordering, “Scooch, kid, let me see.”

Pippa scooched.

Fifteen minutes later, I’d ordered a log bed off the Internet.

Twenty minutes after that, I’d ordered all the linens for that bed.

And an hour after that, my girl sitting on a stool she’d dragged from the kitchen bar (I really needed more furniture in the den) and I were still online furniture shopping.

* * * * *

“Don’t stay up too late, kiddo. I’m off to bed,” I said to Auden who was lounged on the couch in front of the TV, surrounded by schoolbooks, notebooks and his tablet.

It was late. His sister had gone to bed half an hour ago. Auden was still doing homework. The TV was on, but as only kids could do, he was sitting in front of it with it blaring but most of his attention was on his work.

I put my hands to the arms of the chair I was in and started to push up when Auden’s eyes came to me.

“He fucks you over, you get rid of him.”

I froze.

“Auden,” I whispered.

“The minute he fucks you over, Mom, get rid of him,” he ordered, his voice low and there was a tremor of emotion that cut deep.

I rested my behind back to the seat and kept my focus on my son.

“First,” I said quietly, “I’m not fond of your language.”

Auden didn’t reply, he just continued staring at me.

“Second,” I went on, “is there something you want to share with me?”

“Dad screwed you over and it messed you up,” he declared instantly.

God, direct hit.

“I know, kiddo, and I’m sorry I made that so easy for you to see.”

He shook his head forcefully. “No. That’s not what I mean. Dad screwed you over and it messed you up, Mom. You’re good now. You got through it. But you know better than me that guys can be dicks. Don’t let this guy be a dick to you.”

“I learned something from what happened before, sweets,” I assured him. “And whatever’s in my future with a man, or even getting a hangnail, I’m not going to allow that to happen again. And by that I mean I’m not going to fall apart.”

He stopped lounging and leaned toward me. “No,” he repeated emphatically. “Just don’t let this guy be a dick to you.”

I stared at my boy and tried to read anything I could that he wasn’t giving to me verbally.

When I couldn’t find it, even though I sensed it was there, I started, “What happened between me and your father—”

Auden interrupted me, “I had no control over that. But I will over this. If I see this guy being a dick to you, then I’m doing something about it.”

“Auden,” I began cautiously, “is there something you aren’t telling me?”

That was when he broke my gaze, still looking toward me but now doing it beyond me. “Just that I’m not letting anyone be a dick to my mom.”

That felt nice. Incredibly nice.

I still sensed that wasn’t it.

“If you have something you need to talk about, I hope you know you can talk to me,” I told him earnestly but solemnly, hoping he didn’t also read my anxiety.

Auden didn’t say anything.

“Mickey’s a really good man, honey,” I shared. “He’s got two kids of his own and he’s a great dad.” I leaned his way and dropped my voice. “He makes me laugh and he takes care of me and he makes me happy. And I hope you know I wouldn’t put you through introducing you to somebody who I didn’t think would be around for a good long while.”

Auden again looked right at me. “I’m glad he makes you laugh and you’re happy. But if he’s a dick to you, Mom, he’s gone.”

I again tried to read my son.

I again sensed something there that I couldn’t read.

And he obviously didn’t want to share it.

So I said, “I think that’s a fair deal.”

Auden nodded and looked back at the TV.

I decided to end it there, got up and went around the back of the couch. When I was in position, I leaned deep and kissed the top of his head.

“Love you, my baby boy, forever and ever,” I whispered.

“Love you too, Mom,” he mumbled in return.

I closed my eyes, throat getting clogged, swallowed to clear it and straightened away.

“Sleep tight,” I said as I moved toward my room, snagging my phone off the kitchen counter on the way there.

“Yeah. You too,” Auden called back.

I got behind closed door and instantly called Mickey.

Within a couple of rings, just like Mickey, he picked up.

I told him the good news, that Auden and Olympia were open to meet him.

I did not tell him my ex referred to him to my children as a Neanderthal. He’d done that to Mickey’s face and Mickey didn’t like it. He didn’t need to get upset about Conrad saying it to my kids.

Then I told him the not-so-good news about the intense conversation I just had with my son.

I ended this with, “What do you think that was about?”

“Haven’t met your boy, babe, don’t know anything about him but what you’ve told me. But if my dad did my mom the way his dad did his, I may have gotten caught up in the hurricane and its aftermath, but when things settled down, I’d be thinkin’. Men look to our fathers to show us the man we should be. He’s at an age where that’s gonna be some intense scrutiny. And I’m thinkin’ he doesn’t like what he’s seein’.”

“I don’t want that for him,” I said uneasily.

“Could just be him mannin’ up,” Mickey added. “He’s of an age to do that too. His mom is dating. She got fucked over. He wants you to know he’s lookin’ out for you. I’d do that for my mom too. Any good son would look after his mother.”

I liked that idea better.

“He said the f-word, Mickey.”

Mickey started chuckling.

I didn’t find it funny.

“Twice,” I stated.

“Bet he says it a lot more around his buds.”

This did not make me happy and I looked to the door.

“Babe, advice,” he went on. “Seriously. Listen to this shit. Back off. He’s findin’ the man he’s gonna be. You gotta give him space to let him.”

“He should respect his mother and not curse,” I declared.

“Do you honestly give a shit about cursing?” he asked incredulously.

“You doing it as a grown man, no. Auden doing it at sixteen, yes.”

“You call him on it?”

“Carefully.”

“Then make it be known that in your house and to you and your daughter, he shows you that respect. After that, back off. That is, unless he keeps doin’ it.”

“Right,” I mumbled.

“Brady Bunch action is definitely gonna take time,” he stated, and I knew he meant by this that it would be only him for dinner. We’d do the blending of kids at a later date, which was a relief. “So this dinner has gotta happen next week after the kids go to Rhiannon. Scheduled off at the house on Tuesday. See if they can make it then.”

“I’ll talk to them, Mickey. Do you like coleslaw?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Because Auden placed his order for dinner with the man Mom’s dating and it includes coleslaw. I already know you like barbeque chicken, which is the other menu item he selected.”

“Totally a sixteen-year-old boy. His mom tells him she’s got a new man, he’s worried about what he’s gonna eat.”

That made me smile and settled other things inside me.

Mickey kept talking, “But you don’t have a grill.”

“Slow roasted barbeque pulled chicken,” I told him.

“Shit, it’s after ten and now I’m hungry.”

And another smile.

“You goin’ to bed?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Wish that was happening beside me,” he muttered.

And with that, everything settled inside me.

“Me too,” I told him quietly.

“Monday,” he said.

That seemed a long way away.

“Monday,” I agreed.

“Right, Amy. Lettin’ you go. Sleep good, baby.”

“You too, Mickey. ’Night.”

“’Night.”

We rang off and I got ready for bed.

Once in it, I tossed and turned and didn’t sleep.

I wanted to believe that the fierceness coming from my son was a protective instinct for me. I would even like to know if Mickey was right about Auden looking at his father and wondering if he’d become that man.

But I didn’t think it was either.

I thought it was something else.

Something that drove both my kids from their father to me.

Something I was going to have to find a way to figure out.

For them.

Not me.

* * * * *

“I’m not liking this,” I said two days later, standing in Jake’s office at the gym, watching through the window, Jake and Mickey in the ring sparring.

“I know,” Josie, standing next to me replied. “Actually, I don’t know. Jake never loses. To anyone. Even Mickey, who’s quite formidable, but still, he’s only second best in the league. Jake was once a professional boxer so you shouldn’t feel any less of Mickey. Jake fought pay-per-view. He was quite something. Thus, I can’t say I know how it feels that Mickey’s losing.”

I couldn’t even think of Mickey losing. And I didn’t suspect anyone was losing since they were only sparring with a throng of young men from age eleven to eighteen standing around watching.

The junior boxing league signups and gear handouts. The reason I was there. So I could watch the boys get fitted for the gear that I’d made it so they could have for their season.

No, I was thinking that I hated the idea that Mickey boxed. I could barely watch my son roll around on a mat struggling to pin his opponent.

I hated watching Jake punch Mickey even if Mickey was punching back.

I’d hate it more if they were doing it to win.

But what I hated most of all was the heretofore unknown knowledge that Mickey was a member of the adult league which, like the junior league, was again starting its season.

Now, how exactly was Mickey going to do all he did and train to box and actually box?

“He has two jobs, two kids, a girlfriend and he’s starting his own company,” I stated. “How on earth is he going to find time to train so he doesn’t get his ass kicked?”

“Jake owns two businesses, has three children and a wife. He does it.”

I looked to Josie. “One of his businesses is a boxing gym.”

She looked to me. “Yes, but someone must run it. He can’t train all the time.”

Even though I didn’t think Jake had it as bad as Mickey, I asked, “Okay, so how does he juggle all that?”

“He found himself a wife.”

A thrill shot through me.

Interrupting this thrill, a cheer came from the gym and Josie and I looked that way.

Jake was spitting out his mouth guard and Mickey was leaning on the thing at the corner of the ring, his guard already out, and he was using his teeth to pull open the Velcro grips on his gloves while Jake started addressing the boys.

I studied Mickey thinking it could not be denied, in his loose track pants with his skintight, short-sleeved shirt, leaning casually against a corner thing of a boxing ring, that he looked exceptionally hot, even with his headgear on.

I still hoped he didn’t want me to go watch him beat someone up while taking a beating.

“I hope he doesn’t ask me to his fights,” I muttered this thought aloud.

“Oh yes you do.”

Josie’s strange tone of voice made me look at her. “Why?”

She visibly tore her eyes from her husband and looked at me. “Fight night.”

I felt my brows draw together. “I’m sorry?”

“Fight night starts with the fight but it ends in far more pleasant activities,” she explained.

The look on her face, it was dawning on me.

But she kept going.

“Win or lose, though as you know I don’t know about losing, but Alyssa does, and I’m very aware that even when Junior loses, Alyssa’s favorite night of any night is fight night.”

“So they…” I trailed off.

“Yes,” she stated firmly.

“And after a fight, they can—?”

“Absolutely.”

“Better than other—?”

“The best.”

My voice was pitched higher when I asked, “Really?”

“I find it awkward to share how Jake is as a lover. However, I will tell you that he’s excellent even when we must be quick. It’s always good. I love that about him…amongst many other things. But fight night is different. Unique. And quite honestly, I’d watch him lose every single time just so I could be there, however he needed me, once the fight was over.”

“Wow,” I breathed.

“Precisely,” she replied, studying my face then stating, “So, I’ll be certain that at every fight, you have your seat with Alyssa and me.”

I wasn’t looking forward to that at the same time I was.

Mickey…better?

My legs started trembling.

We heard a shrill whistle and we both looked into the gym to see Jake taking his fingers out of his mouth to wave us his way.

“That’s our cue,” Josie murmured and started moving.

I moved with her and we barely cleared the door before Jake announced, “Right, you know we’ve struggled to get you boys good gear. But this year, Mrs. Spear, and especially Miz Hathaway, who donated a bunch of really good crap to be sold for the league, raised enough that not only do we have all new gear this year, but you’ll be fighting your matches in the big ring in Blakeley.”

We had all the boys’ attention on us as we came to a stop at the back of the group.

At this news there were some open mouths and a sweep of excitement glided through the space before Jake concluded, “So give it up for the ladies.”

I felt my cheeks warm as the boys let out a collective whoop.

In all my years of raising money, not once had I personally faced a single soul who benefited from that.

Taking in those happy faces and their cheer, I found it felt great.

“Now, line up at the scale,” Jake ordered. “We gotta class you then we’ll get you your gear. After that, get your trainer assignments, introduce yourself to your trainer and get your training schedule.”

The boys started milling about and Josie and I stepped out of their way so they could do this.

And my night got better when Cillian walked by with one of his friends.

He was grinning at me.

I was grinning back.

And his friend was saying to him, “Bonus to being a fighter. You get hot chicks.”

“Yeah,” Cillian replied, looking away from me. “The short one’s my dad’s girlfriend.”

“Whoa, nice,” his friend said, eyeing me as they jockeyed for position in a line that led to one of those upright scales that Junior was attending.

It was at that from Cill’s friend that it just wasn’t my cheeks that were warm but other parts of me, primarily the region around my heart.

The last time I was in this gym, I felt old, unattractive and past my prime.

Now, I had the approval of twelve-year-olds.

It wasn’t much but it was something, and having Cillian’s approval of me for his father was even better.

Then the night got better when I felt weight around my shoulders, looked up and saw Mickey had claimed me with his arm around me.

“Hey,” he said on an easy grin.

“Hey back,” I replied.

“This feel good?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Good,” he muttered.

“Mr. Donovan.” I heard and looked up to see a bruiser who might be seventeen or eighteen standing close to us.

“Joe,” Mickey greeted.

The boy looked at me. “Hey, uh…you’re Auden’s mom, right?”

I straightened and regarded my son’s friend, Joe, who was not seventeen or eighteen but sixteen, which was shocking. He looked like he could be a Marine. And he was very cute.

“Yes, Joe. I’m Ms. Hathaway.” I offered my hand. “Nice to meet you. Auden’s talked about you.”

He took my hand briefly then let it go, looking this way and that shyly, as he said, “Yeah. Cool. He’s a good guy.”

“He is,” I agreed.

“Anyway, thanks for doin’ this.” He threw out a hand. “Totally cool.”

“Happy I could help,” I told him.

“Right. Great. Anyway, later,” he muttered and moved to the line.

“Later, Joe,” I called after him.

Mickey’s lips came to my ear. “You and Josie gotta get the fuck outta here or the situation is not gonna be good.”

I pulled my head back so I could catch his eyes and he lifted his so he could give them to me.

“Why?” I asked.

“’Cause your boy’s friend just met his friend’s MILF of a mom and Josie is pure MILF too. So you two better take off so the league doesn’t grow three times its size just so boys can get a look at the possible ass they’ll be tapping when they’re old enough to know what to do with their dicks. Ass they’ll tap because they were smart enough to train to be a fighter.”

I reared away, not getting far as Mickey’s arm around my shoulders tightened, but that didn’t stop me from exclaiming, “Mickey! Really!”

“Babe, I used to be sixteen,” he returned. “Mrs. Getty next door is now seventy-five but she once was forty-five and she saw a lot of sock time.”

I leaned into him. “I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.”

“Think of what poor ole Joe is thinkin’, he’s gotta go to school tomorrow and face his friend with the hot mom.”

“Stop talking,” I ordered sharply.

Mickey burst out laughing.

“Stop laughing,” I demanded hotly.

He didn’t.

What he did was bend to me and touch his mouth to mine still laughing.

I didn’t pull away because there were people around, but I did glare at him when he was done.

“This, right here,” he said. “Again, all you. What you gave the boys, one of ’em my son, the way I feel standin’ beside you with the way you look and what you did for this league. Another flash of happy.”

I instantly stopped glaring.

“Thank you, baby,” he whispered.

I pressed my lips together so they wouldn’t tremble.

“You gonna cry?” he asked.

“No,” I mumbled, but even one syllable, it was shaky.

“Best not kiss you again,” he noted.

“If you say one more gross thing, I’m not having sex with you for a week.”

I got another easy grin. “Like you can hold out that long.”

“Whatever,” I muttered.

“Amy?”

“What?” I snapped.

“You’re the best woman I’ve ever met.”

I stared into his beautiful blue eyes, seeing those words reflected there and knowing since the moment I clapped eyes on him, one of the things I wanted most was to see that look aimed at me.

It wasn’t “I love you.”

But it was the next best thing.

“Great, now I wanna make out with you,” I griped under my breath to hide how his words made me feel.

Mickey was again grinning.

“So, Tuesday is on with Auden and Olympia?” he asked a question he knew the answer to but I knew he asked it to change the subject.

I nodded as I moved into him, excited and anxious about this first meeting, but hoping, my kids being mine, they’d see Mickey. They’d see how he was with me. They’d see he made me happy. And it would all go great.

“Lookin’ forward to it, Amy.”

That was when I smiled up at him but while doing it, I felt a shiver slide up my neck.

I looked to the side and saw Cillian edging up the line with the other boys being weighed. His neck was twisted. His eyes on his dad and me.

He looked reflective.

I braced and did it further when he caught me looking at him. But then he waved a little man’s version of a big man wave, grinned and turned away.

Not embarrassed to wave at me in public.

Not turning sullen at his dad touching me, talking to me, laughing with me.

Bragging to his friend I was his dad’s girlfriend.

This meant, if Cillian had a stamp, he could press it into ink, come to me and stamp me approved.

And this made me happy.

Very, very happy.