Not Broken: The Happily Ever After(77)

I sat back against the cushions thinking about what Macy’d said. This visit was a hell of a lot more than a ceasefire. I’d gotten more insight into my sister and everything she’d gone through.

“Okay, jerk, I should head out. I can’t leave Mitch alone with London for too long or he might buy her a pony or some shit.”

I laughed, getting up to give her a hug. I grabbed my keys off the counter before following her out of the house.

“Next time, have better food options.”

“Next time, don’t park in the middle of my driveway.”

“How was I supposed to know you weren’t home?”

“It’s called a telephone. Try using it.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Love you.”

“Love you too.”





Chapter 42


Calida





I wasn’t sure who was making more noise, Malcolm or Shawn. I finished plating the food, and watched as they played in the living room with Shawn’s toy cars. They both made loud driving sounds while they crawled around on the floor, followed by the occasional crash and boom when one of them wrecked.

“Dinner’s ready.”

“Come on, buddy.” Mal picked Shawn up, flying him through the air.

His chubby little hands eagerly reached out for his plate as I approached his high chair. Once Malcolm got him buckled in, I sat the plate down on the plastic tray. His little fingers picked up fistfuls of the bite-sized peas and carrots and shoved them into his mouth.

I sat Malcolm’s plate on the table, and then I grabbed my plate and wine glass off the counter before joining the boys.

“It looks good.”

“Thanks. And I’m happy you decided to come.”

He flashed me his signature smile. “Couldn’t pass up a home cooked meal.”

“They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

He cut into the baked chicken. “You had mine long before you cooked a single thing.” He paused to chew the piece he’d put in his mouth. “But don’t let that stop you from continuing. This tastes as good as it looks.”

The clatter of Shawn’s plate hitting the floor got our attention. He wore a proud smile at having dumped his food onto his tray before he dropped the plate.

I leaned down to pick it up. “You’re such a little caveman.”

I ran my fingers through his soft hair. He did the same, only he had carrots in his hand that ended up mushed in his hair. Malcolm laughed as I picked out what I could, but gave up when Shawn deliberately put more in.

We managed to make it through dinner with Shawn luckily eating more food than he placed in his hair. I took him upstairs to clean up, and when I got back downstairs, I stopped at the sight of Malcolm cleaning the kitchen. He’d put the leftovers away and was in the process of loading the dishwasher. I stood there, admiring him work. The slight flexing of his arms as he put the dishes in. His butt filled out those jogger sweatpants like nobody’s business. How the hell did he manage to make cleaning look good?

“You don’t have to do that.”

He smiled at me, continuing his task. “Told you division of labor. You cooked. I clean.” He reached, out giving Shawn’s belly a squeeze. “Killer PJs, buddy.”

“Thomas.” Shawn exclaimed happily, pointing to the train character on his shirt.

Readjusting him in my arms, I walked passed Mal to pick up the open bottle of Moscato. I refilled my glass, and could feel Mal’s eyes watching me as I did. He didn’t say anything, but he’d watched me each time I’d gotten a refill. What was three glasses compared to the bottle I’d drank last night so I could sleep?

Dr. Carr had been telling me from the beginning that getting it out, that talking about everything would help. She’d made it seem like I’d be somehow magically healed by not bottling up things. I continued to wait on that magic to happen. As of right now, the only thing talking about Seth did was shine a spotlight on how naive I’d been. The game of what-if seemed never ending.

Taking a seat on the floor in the living room, I sat my glass on the side table, before picking up a book to read to Shawn. I read to him, skipping ahead as he flipped through the pages faster than I could say the words, and listened to the quiet clinking of dishes as Mal finished up in the kitchen. Shawn and I were on our third book by the time Malcolm came over to join us.

I expected him to join us on the floor. Instead, he opted for as much distance as he could, choosing the end of the loveseat furthest away. Shawn quickly flipped out of my lap, taking his book over to Malcolm. I moved from the floor, and curled up on the sofa. I grabbed my glass and watched the two of them interact. If Malcolm ever had any reservations about Shawn, he never let it show. No one did. Either they hid it, or Shawn’s appearance didn’t bother them. The thought made me feel worse, to think I was the only one put off by something he couldn’t control. Malcolm had been a natural with him from the beginning, and Shawn absolutely adored him.

Shawn climbed down, and pulled Malcolm by the hand over to the toys.

“Where’s your roommate this evening?”

“A friend of hers came to town yesterday for a work conference. She and Dorian went out for dinner or something. Not sure if she’s coming back tonight or if she’ll be hanging with her at the W.”