At Peace (The 'Burg #2)(161)

“We’re eating at the table,” I informed them, my eyes still on Joe.

“Works for me,” Joe muttered, tilting his head and aiming the drill at the shelves.

“Me too,” Kate put in.

“Me three!” Keira added.

The drill whirred. I shook my head and left the room, going to Kate’s room to see she had black lacquered shelves and desk; a sleek, shiny black laptop; and a leopard print, furry beanbag. She’d already re-decorated, moving books and knick knacks she’d had piled on her dresser and nightstand to her new shelves and desk and rearranging posters.

This looked good too.

Though she’d need more books and knick knacks to fill it out.

I smiled as I walked to the kitchen. I made dinner with Mooch helping me (partly because I think he was afraid of the drill, partly because he knew I’d feed him scraps). We ate at the table. I did the dishes while the girls played with their laptops and did more redecorating. When I was done with the dishes, Joe showed me around the new computer in the study that already had four users programmed in it, the names all in a column, starting with “Joe” on top, “Violet” under that then “Kate” then “Keira”. Something about our names all in a column on the family computer struck me. It was a good hit. So good, I wondered why anyone on earth would need drugs. You could get high just having a family.

Later we climbed into the Mustang and went to Fulsham’s Frozen Custard Stand. Joe and I got cones, the girls got turtle sundaes. While we ate them, Joe and Kate sat side by side on the top of a picnic table outside while Keira sat on the seat by Kate’s feet and I sat on the seat by Joe’s feet, my back leaning into his legs.

I listened to Kate and Keira talk to Joe, Joe not saying much, Keira talking most but both Kate and Keira including him. Kate talking about her music and Keira talking about Joe’s house.

While I listened I noticed people looking at us. They didn’t stare but their curiosity was obvious. It was hot and muggy; we needed a storm to erase the humidity but hadn’t had one in days. Because of this, and summer coming to an end, school starting soon, the Stand was busy, tons of kids, some couples, more families. Studying our onlookers, I noticed Joe was the focal point of their curiosity, the girls and I too but not so much. It was clearly a sight to see, Lone Wolf Joe Callahan out with a woman and her two teenage daughters.

Again, this disturbed me. I couldn’t put my finger on why and I told myself eventually it would go away, people would get used to us and that bad feeling I got would fade.

We went back home and the girls went to their rooms and back to their new toys. Joe went to the fridge, opened a bottle of white wine, poured a glass for me, got himself a beer and we went out to the deck. He pulled the chairs to the railing and we sat, side by side, our knees cocked, feet up on the railing, sipping wine and beer and I figured, since I loved him, since we’d had a good night and since this was us, it was good and this was going to be the way it was, I needed to know more about Joe.

So I asked Joe questions.

He didn’t hesitate with any of his responses. Including the scary ones, such as him getting the scar on his belly a long time ago when he was a bouncer and some drunk guy slashed him with a knife.

At my indrawn breath, Joe murmured in a gentle voice, “It wasn’t deep, baby, didn’t cause any harm.”

I didn’t point out that it did, seeing as it left a scar. I just asked about the other one.

That one was scarier, seeing as it was a scar from a bullet wound Joe got while bodyguarding. He didn’t say who he was guarding, apparently this was secret information and if he told me, he’d have to kill me (though Joe didn’t explain it that way, he just said. “Can’t tell you, Vi, so don’t ask.”).

What he did say was, “After that, focused on the systems. Dyin’ young to protect ass**les I didn’t like f**ked with my plan for retirement.”

This was funny, Joe cracking another joke, and I laughed but I also leaned to the side, putting my head on Joe’s shoulder and dropping my legs so they rested against his. In return, Joe slid an arm along my shoulders and pulled me closer. The chair handle bit into my side but I didn’t care. Bobbie had some lawn furniture that almost matched mine and there was a loveseat-style piece so I decided, since I didn’t have to pay a mortgage anymore, and since I liked sitting outside with Joe, our knees cocked, feet to the railing, I was going to buy it.

While we did this, I thought that it was good Joe was wise and he had a plan for retirement. If he’d been gung ho macho, taking these jobs just for the money and the thrill and not thinking about his future, he might not be there, on my deck, drinking beer with me at his side and my girls in the house.

And I liked him there.

But I’d like it better once I bought that loveseat.

After the scary portion of the evening’s conversation was over, Joe got up and got himself another beer, refilled my wine and he came back. Then we made plans to ask Lindy to come to dinner so the girls and I could meet her and we talked about the upcoming visit from my in-laws, something Joe didn’t seem all that concerned about.

“They’re people Vi, they got two choices, they like me or they don’t. I deal either way. They’re good people, even if they don’t, they won’t make it your problem or the girls’.”

He was right, they had two choices and, knowing Bea and Gary, they wouldn’t make it my problem or the girls’ if they didn’t like Joe.