Just call me a domestic god.
I’m getting used to this stupid coffee machine now. I’m also getting used to the fact that it’s not ready for me to drink when I get up in the morning. Ava has finally been sleeping well, and waking her come morning is out of the question. So I’ve taken over her jobs.
I flick the machine on and open the pantry cupboard, pulling down the cereals and setting them on the side for the kids. It’s only when I’m on my way back to the coffee machine that I realise what I’ve done. The gaping hole in my existence grows, and like they’ve sensed I’m missing them, my phone rings and I rush over to answer. I smile when I see my boy’s face lighting up the screen.
Answering, I prop it up by the cooker and continue with Ava’s breakfast. ‘Are you cooking eggs, Dad?’ Jacob asks in greeting. The sea in the background looks amazing, the rush of the waves loud but calming. A holiday. I could do with one of those.
‘Sure am, buddy.’ I tap the spatula on the edge of the pan before lifting to show him. ‘I’m making your mum breakfast in bed.’ I feel like I’ve been born again, injected with energy. Last night was one of the most amazing nights of my life. And better still, I know my wife feels the same.
‘Remember she likes a runny yolk,’ Jacob reminds me, having me looking down at the pan and the two very unrunny yolks. He must catch my frown. ‘Do scrambled,’ he tells me. ‘And salmon. You know that’s one of her favourites.’
‘I have no salmon,’ I grumble, thinking I need to get my arse to the supermarket pronto. We’re low on everything. But grocery shopping is hardly the romantic date I had planned for later. I hear Jacob sigh, and I shrug, because that’s what I do. ‘How’s Maddie?’ I ask.
‘She met a friend. She’s down the beach now.’
A friend? ‘Nice. What’s her name?’
‘Hugo.’
The pan clatters to the stove, my hand catching the burner. ‘Motherfucker!’ I yelp and start jumping around, clasping my hand tightly to stem the pain. ‘You bastard!’ Fucking hell. My knuckles are still sporting the aftermath of my lash out on the mirror and door. Now this? I shake it out, grimacing in pain. ‘Fuck, that hurts.’
‘Jesse Ward!’ The sound of my mother-in-law’s voice penetrates my senses, and I fly over to my phone, just catching Jacob rolling his eyes as Ava’s mother pushes him from the camera. Her face appears, very displeased.
‘Hugo’s a girl’s name.’ I state it as a fact. ‘Isn’t it?’
‘Hugo is a boy,’ she says flippantly. I don’t appreciate it. ‘Just the grandson of some friends. We had dinner with them last night.’
I get my face up close and personal with the screen, noting Elizabeth backing away. My baby girl is on the coast without me there to make sure no little twerps sniff around her. ‘I’m relying on you, Elizabeth.’
‘To do what? Trample in your absence?’
‘Yes!’ I look down at my hand and see a blister developing. ‘Keep him away from my daughter,’ I warn, swiping up my phone and making my way to the sink. ‘Boys can’t be trusted. How old is the little shit?’
‘Thirteen.’
I drop my phone in the sink. ‘Thirteen?’ Oh my God! ‘Elizabeth, this—’ I’m interrupted mid-rant when someone takes my hand, and I peek to the side to find Ava inspecting the burn. She shakes her head, takes my phone from the sink and props it up against the backsplash.
‘Hi, Mum.’ She flips on the tap and forces my hand under the flow of cold water. I hiss as she looks at me out of the corner of her eye, her expression telling me it’s my own damn fault.
‘Hi, darling!’ Elizabeth, understandably, looks delighted to see her daughter.
Too bad. I seize the phone while Ava tends to my hand, keeping it steady under the water. ‘So, this boy.’
‘What boy?’ Ava pipes up, leaning and grabbing a towel off the side.
I ignore her and press Elizabeth for details. ‘Keep him away from my daughter.’
‘Oh, stop overreacting.’ My mother-in-law sighs. She just can’t help undermining me, the fucking pain in the arse that she is. ‘She’s growing up, Jesse. You need to let her.’
I think I might explode. How long would it take me to get to Newquay? ‘Elizabeth—’ The phone is gone from my hand speedily, Ava whipping it away and wandering off. I stare at her back incredulously.
‘Are the kids okay, Mum?’ she asks, looking over her shoulder, giving me a stare that dares me to hijack my phone. It’s a fucking conspiracy. All of them ganging up against me. ‘Good. And, yes.’ Ava pouts. ‘He’s being very attentive and caring. I’m feeling better by the day.’
I don’t want to smile. Not when I’m so pent up and stressed, but before I know it I’m grinning like a loon. She’s feeling great. I was, too, until my mother-in-law ruined it. I huff and plonk my arse on a stool, scowling down at my injured, towel-wrapped hand. Perfect. Fucking perfect.
‘I’m looking forward to seeing you, too.’ Ava joins me, holding up the bath towel that’s wrapped around her as she sits on the stool. I don’t know what comes over me. One minute she’s covered in white fluffy material, the next she’s covered in . . . nothing. The towel hits the floor and Ava gasps, shooting shocked eyes at me. And I just grin. Big, wide and satisfied, making a meal of relaxing on my stool and looking her up and down, up and down, up . . . and . . . down.
I breathe in and exhale loudly. ‘Breakfast’s looking mighty fine,’ I muse, earning a few playful slaps across the head. I laugh my way through it as she scrambles for her towel. Silly girl. I whip it away and run around the other side of the island, waving it teasingly.
‘Ava, you’re naked!’ Elizabeth screeches.
‘Damn FaceTime.’ I shake my head mockingly. ‘You’re naked, baby.’
Her scowl is award-worthy. And so is my smirk. ‘I have to go, Mum. Give the kids a kiss for me.’ She disconnects the call and points the phone at me. ‘You’re in trouble, Ward.’
‘Oh, goody.’ I toss the towel over my shoulder and rub my hands together. ‘Bring it on, baby. Bring. It. On.’
Her attempts to hide the twitch in her lips fails miserably. ‘You’re much older than me. I’m thinking speed isn’t your thing these days.’
Much older? ‘You haven’t seen me chase the boys away from our daughter. I’m a fucking greyhound.’
Eyes narrowed, she steps to the left. And I step to the right. ‘I’ll catch you,’ she warns.
Good. I hope she does. ‘And what will you do to me then?’
‘That’s for me to know.’
‘And I’m gonna find out.’ I dart out of the kitchen, towel billowing behind me, and as soon as I’m out of her sight, I drop to the floor and lie down on my back.
She comes half hobbling out of the kitchen, yelping when she trips over my foot. I catch her perfectly and bring her softly down onto my chest. ‘Seems you caught me, Mrs Ward.’
‘Don’t humour me.’ She presses her palms into my pecs, intending to push herself away but getting completely distracted by the vast expanse of my naked chest instead, her eyes sparkling with delight. The grins are coming thick and fast this morning.
‘Earth to Ava,’ I whisper, knocking her out of her mesmerised state.
‘You know,’ she sighs, keeping her eyes on mine as she lowers her lips to my pec and drops a lingering kiss there, ‘I think even if I were still young, I’d want to do you.’
Laughter rumbles up from my toes, jolting her on my chest. I feel her grin against my skin, her hands splayed and feeling me. Once I’ve pulled myself back around, I roll us, trapping her naked body beneath mine. She hisses, and I bolt up, worried. ‘It’s fine.’ She sinks her hands into my hair and plays with the strands. ‘The floor’s cold on my back. How’s your hand?’
My eyes narrow, aware she’s trying to divert the attention onto me. ‘My hand is fine.’ I flex it a little, testing my own claim. A little sore, but that’s all.
Moving her hands to my arse, she sinks her nails into the material of my boxers, circling her hips up on a sultry hum.
My cock wakes up, and I lift my hips to make room for it between us, the ache instant. I groan, dropping my head. I need to rein myself in. ‘I’ve taken up far too much of your energy over the past couple of days.’ Motorbike rides, dinner, arguing . . . sex.
‘But—’
‘No buts.’ Grudgingly, I rise, helping Ava up and wrapping her in the towel, ignoring her grumbling. ‘You need to eat.’ Her shoulders slump, and while I’m beyond thrilled that she’s struggling to contain her want, I’m aware of how much I’ve taken out of her, even if she won’t admit it. I turn her and lead her back to the kitchen, sitting her down before serving up her eggs. Questionable eggs. ‘Eat,’ I order, putting the fork in her hand and grabbing my phone. I just need to make a call. I dial John and leave the kitchen. ‘Sarah rang me last night,’ I tell him quietly when I’m out of earshot, looking over my shoulder.
‘What the fuck?’ He’s not happy. Good. Neither am I. ‘I’ve fucking told her.’
‘Well, you can tell her again.’
He grunts his confirmation. ‘I will. I have. But she’s insisting she needs to talk to you.’
‘That ain’t happening. The woman’s poison.’
‘I know that. You know that. But Sarah’s just as stubborn as ever.’ He sighs. ‘I’ll speak to her. How’s Ava?’
‘She’s good. The club?’
‘S’all good,’ he confirms. ‘You concentrate on your girl.’
‘Thanks, John.’ I smile as I hang up, and quickly take the opportunity to call Elizabeth back while Ava’s eating her breakfast. ‘Hey.’
She sighs. ‘Jesse Ward, I am not—’
‘Shut up, woman. I’ve not called about the little shit. I wanted to talk to you about Ava and the kids.’
‘Oh? Everything okay?’
‘Yes, actually. Really good. And the kids?’ I don’t need to ask. I can see it on their faces every time we talk. They’re fine.
‘They’re great. Full of questions, but they just need reassurance. Speaking to Ava has helped.’
I smile. ‘I know it’s been a week already, but our first few days here were spent in tears. I’m seeing progress now, Elizabeth.’ It pains me to say it, and I miss the twins terribly, but . . . ‘Can you give me a little more time?’
She doesn’t hesitate. ‘We were thinking of heading back on Monday.’
‘I love you, Mum.’
‘Shut up, you menace.’ She hangs up as I head back to the kitchen and take a stool next to Ava, noticing she’s not touched a bit of her breakfast.
I nudge her when she places her fork down, flipping her a warning look as I slide my phone onto the counter, ready to commence force-feeding my wife. ‘Stop staring at it and eat.’
She sighs and loads her fork with a minuscule bit of egg. ‘Who was that?’
‘John.’ I get up and pour some coffee. ‘I was just checking up on the club.’
‘Can I see it?’ She pops some breakfast in her mouth and chews slowly, watching me.
‘See what?’
‘The club.’
‘Sure. You eat all your breakfast and I’ll take you after your therapy session.’
The flare of exasperation in her eyes makes me smile. ‘Like a good little wife?’
Resting my elbows on the island across from her, I smile the smile I reserve only for her. ‘Exactly like that.’ I blow her a little kiss and start clearing up the kitchen. Maybe a visit to our health club will jog something in that muddled mind of hers.