Chapter 17

Brady

Normally, when I get home from work, I go straight to the fridge and drink a beer or two—okay, maybe three. Then I order some pizza, watch ESPN, do sit-ups, watch porn—whatever—because that’s what you do when you’re a single guy.

But today, as soon as I walk into the house after work, I’m smacked in the face with the most awesome smell coming from the kitchen.

Cooked food? In my house? That’s a first.

As I turn the corner into the kitchen, I see Izzie standing by the stove. She’s throwing it down, blending shit up. She’s a machine.

“Honey, I’m home,” I call out in my best Fred Flintstone voice.

Izzie whirls around, her eyes all wide-eyed before collapsing back into her usual polite, evasive self.

“God, you scared the crap out of me.” She turns her attention back to the stove and starts stabbing broccoli with a fork.

A part of me wants to sneak up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist, inhaling her smell. But I’m pretty sure she’d turn around and throw boiling hot oil in my face or something.

“What are you whipping up there?” I keep my distance and lean against the doorway. I might as well play it safe.

“It’s your anti-inflammatory diet.” She throws some chickpeas in a bowl. “Didn’t you get the diet plan I emailed to you?”

Whoops.

“Uh, sure, of course,” I lie.

“I figured you didn’t.” She eyes me accusingly. “So I decided to pick up the ingredients myself. And then once I got here, I figured I might as well cook it, too. You’ll like it. It’s really good.”

Judging by the delicious smell filling the kitchen, I don’t need her to convince me of that.

“Sit down.” She nods toward the dining table. “It’s about done. Liam’s already sitting there, waiting. You can keep him company.”

I walk to the dining room and see Liam slouched in his chair, his head down and focusing on some handheld video game.

“Yo, whatcha playing?” I yank the game out of his hand and hold it high above his head.

“Braaadddyyy!” He stands up on the chair and tries to yank it out of my hand.

“You gotta try harder than that.” I start moving the game all around his head, out of his grasp. He’s jumping and giggling like a fiend, which causes Izzie to shout out, “Cut it out, you two!”

Seconds later, Izzie emerges from the kitchen like someone’s angry mom. I can’t help but laugh at seeing her with her one hand on her hip, the other hand holding a bowl of salad. She’s fucking adorable.

“Sorry, Mom,” I joke, sitting down in my seat. “We’ll behave.”

Izzie sighs and places the bowl on the table. “It’s chickpea salad. Dig in, guys.”

She disappears and comes back with a pan of special anti-inflammatory meatballs and broccoli made with ginger and turmeric.

As she explains the food, it all sounds like a foreign language to me, so I tune her out and just start shoving things into my mouth. Hey, food is food, right?

As we all sit around awkwardly chewing, I decide to break the silence.

“So, Liam, you like football?”

The kid practically chokes on his food as he drops his fork and looks up with me with excited eyes.

“Yes, I love it! It’s my favorite sport. My whole family loves it, too!”

“Oh, yeah?” I’m genuinely surprised. “That’s awesome. Do you play football at school?”

“No.” Liam gets really quiet suddenly. “Well, my family, they used to like football, but they don’t anymore.”

I give him a strange look. What an odd thing to say.

“Why’s that? Are they Cleveland Browns fans or something?

“Uh, Liam,” Izzie chokes out. “I’m sure Brady doesn’t want to hear about our boring family.”

She starts chuckling awkwardly as she nudges Liam with her elbow. “Tell him about the other clubs you’re in.” She then looks up at me and adds, “He’s in a lot of them actually...a lot of interesting ones.”

I look over at Liam who shrugs and doesn’t look all that excited to talk about his other interests. I wonder why Izzie seems so desperate to change the conversation.

“Well, if you ever want to check out one of our games,” I tell him, ignoring Izzie, “just let me know. I can get you at least two free tickets and even a free team jersey.”

Liam’s face beams like the Northern Lights. I’ve never seen a kid look so damn happy. I truly made his whole day—possibly his whole life.

“Thanks, Mr. Brady!”

I give him a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, kid. It’s no problem.”

I look up at Izzie, expecting her to look pleased and happy with how nice I’m treating her nephew, but instead, I see the exact opposite. She’s mad as hell! She’s looking at me as if I just told Liam to drop out of school, do drugs, and become a pimp.

Izzie puts her fork down and folds her hands as if she's about to make a speech.

“That’s not necessary, Brady.” She eyes me like she’s annoyed. “You’ve done enough for us with rolling out the red carpet and making us feel welcome, but you don’t have to throw free things at us. Trust me, you’ve done enough favors for us. Besides, Liam can’t go to the next game because it’s a school night, and he has a ton of homework. Don’t you, Liam?”

Liam looks deflated as he sinks into his seat. His dreams have been doused with gasoline and set on fire.

“Right,” he mumbles into his plate.

“Anyway,” Izzie starts. She clearly wants to change the subject. “So I called the termite people today, and I have some bad news for everyone.”

“Did the house get eaten?” Liam asks.

Izzie rolls her eyes. “No, of course not. But the termite guys are booked all this week. The earliest they can come to the house to fumigate is next week. And then, after that, they told me I’d need to wait another week to make sure the poison is all gone from the house. So, yeah, it looks like we won’t be back in the house for at least three weeks.”

When she tells me this, I can’t help but feel a tad happy and excited about it. Izzie, in my house for three weeks? Yes, ma’am.

But I must have a pervy grin on my face because Izzie quickly adds, “But I promise we’ll be out of your hair by this weekend.”

Fuck, and now I’m sad again.

“Why this weekend?” I’m seriously bummed. “Where else are you guys gonna go?”

“Well, my friend, Alex, will be back in town, and we can all move in with her temporarily.”

I wave off her remarks. I’m not sure who Alex is, but I’m sure she lives in a tiny one- or two-bedroom apartment—way too small to accommodate Izzie and Liam comfortably.

“Nonsense.” I finish my last bite of salad, and throw a napkin over the plate. “You’re staying with me. I don’t want to hear anything else. This place is a palace. There’s more than enough room for everyone.”

Izzie’s eyes look relieved, but her voice is conveying the opposite.

“Liam, I really appreciate that, but you have to admit that having us here is inconvenient. We barely know each other, and, so far, you’ve had to change your whole daily routine for us.”

I pick up my plate and start clearing the table. I’m honestly done with the conversation. How many times do I have to tell her that she’s welcome here? It’s ridiculous that she’s even thinking of staying somewhere else when there’s so much space here.

“Nope, you’re not going anywhere.” I grab her plate and Liam’s, and head to the kitchen. Izzie chases after me but says nothing as I load the dishes in the dishwasher.

“I just don’t want to…be in the way, or…” Izzie tries to plead her case, but it’s clear she’s succumbing to her fate.

“Don’t worry about it.” I scrape a piece of broccoli off a plate before sticking it in the dishwasher. “If anything, you’re doing me a favor. This was the best meal I’ve had in years.”

Izzie’s face grows a subtle pink. I’m starting to notice she does this adorable thing where she scrunches up her mouth to the side of her face when she’s trying not to smile.

“I’m glad you liked it.”

“Of course, I liked it,” I smile, teasing her a little. “Oh, and I had this made for you.”

I reach into my back pocket and pull out a key I had duplicated earlier that day. I walk over and drop it into Izzie’s hand, who clutches it like it’s forbidden fruit.

“Relax,” I tell her as I look into her eyes. “Stay awhile.”