The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs, #2)(107)

Troy whispers into Dante’s ear, and I can see him mouth, “Love you, Mommy!” When Troy winks at the camera and taps his watch, I know it’s for me. He’s telling me it’s time for us. Once we’ve fulfilled our obligations in Texas, our future begins. It’s amazing what can happen in a year, in a day, in a moment. And this moment helped to map our future.

We had plans either way, because…I’m a planner. And no matter what happened with the draft, we had backup. But as long as we were together, it didn’t matter which plan we followed because I stayed confident knowing we would be fine either way. Troy gave me that. That peace of mind. It’s a gift that I don’t think he’ll ever fully understand.

All our plans consisted of starting our family, it was the where that was up in the air. And the family addition negotiations are still ongoing. Nightly.

Parker is still blubbering as the draft coverage goes to commercial. “God, that was awesome.”

“Yeah,” I run my fingers underneath my eyes and nod. “He did it.”

“He so did it,” she beams.

I toss a couch pillow at her. “Lady, from the minute you met him you were team Troy, even when you tried to pull that tough guy bullshit.”

“Fine, I admit I love him, now. He gives me hope.” She sighs. “And I can’t believe you’re moving to New York. Shit,” her voice cracks and then she’s crying again as I pull her to me.

“How often do you fly through La Guardia?”

“Like every three weeks.”

“So, I’ll see you every month.”

“Yes.” She nods into my shoulder.

“And I’ll have your room ready.”

“Okay.”

“No more crying. I, for one, am done crying in 2019.”

“Okay.”

“Damn it, Parker, stop it,” I say, getting misty-eyed as the doorbell rings.

It’s UPS, and I can’t for the life of me meet the eyes of the delivery man. I sign for the package, opening it to pull out a Giant’s jersey. I hold it up and inhale. Troy’s doused it with his cologne.

“Oh, my God,” Parker says, her eyes tearing up. “He had that delivered at the exact right moment.”

“Well, to quote my son, ‘duh.’ He is their employee. Sweet, isn’t it?”

Parker nods, tears still running down her face as I sniff the jersey.

“I love this cologne. I need to find out the name of it. I would bathe in it.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“Uh, I like the jersey?”

“Uh huh, and?”

“Go, Giants?” I raise my fist for a little extra enthusiasm.

“Babe,” Parker swallows. “Look again.”

I turn the Jersey back and forth and shake my head. “What?! Out with it already!”

“One more time,” Parker insists, her eyes as wide as her smile.

I turn the jersey over again when it finally hits me.

MRS. JENNER





“Dad! Someone’s at the door!” I hear Dante call as I sink into my freshly-filled tub.

“Then go get it, son!”

“I’m filming!”

“Where’s your mom?”

I roll my eyes. “I’m in the tub! Can you two stop yelling and get the door?”

“Dad!”

“Get the door, Dante! I’ve got Toby with me.”

I tense up. “You don’t know who it is, don’t send him to the door!”

“I’m setting up the intercom, so we don’t sound like the damned Costanzas anymore!”

“Who’s the Costanzas?” Dante asks.

“Google it.”

“I’m filming!”

“Jesus,” I say, grabbing my towel. “Shut up, shut up, you two or you’re going to wake the baby. I’ve got it!”

I can hear the nervousness in my husband’s voice when he hears the irritation in mine. “I’ve got it, baby. Stay in the tub.”

“I’ve got it, Mom!”

I sigh, covered in suds with one foot out of the tub. “Somebody, please just get the door!”

And that’s when Zoe, our three-month-old, decides to speak up and our one-year-old joins in, doing his own impression of a Costanza.

“I used my key!” Parker calls out from the entryway. “Merry Christmas, Jenners!”

“Mom,” Dante calls, “You woke Zoe up.”





“This is ridiculous. You sure this is what you want?” Troy says behind the door.

“Hell, yes, stop whining and just get your sexy ass in here.”

“This probably isn’t safe. Where did you come up with this twisted fantasy?”

“Uh, nowhere in particular.”

“You’re a sick woman. This is your Christmas present?”

“Yes. Troy, the candles are lit. The sex police are asleep, and Auntie Parker is on watch. Your mom and Luis will be here in seven hours. Need I say more?”

“I’m coming.”

“What’s taking so long?”

“I feel like an idiot.”

“It’ll pay off. I assure you.”