Soaring (Magdalene #2)(142)

Dinner done, the kids cleared and rinsed the dishes, putting them in the dishwasher as Mickey got out the dessert plates and I got out the apple pie and ice cream.

Conversation was still flowing but it was at this juncture that it occurred to me that Mickey inserting himself into dinner activities rather than sitting on a stool, drinking beer and being removed, was another skillful move. He’d been to my house often. He was welcome at my house any time I could get him there. I couldn’t say we made dinner together or ate together there but he really wasn’t a guest in my home. He was part of my life and thus part of my home.

And he didn’t cast himself in the role of guest in my home when my children were present either. Something they couldn’t miss and something that again Mickey made easy.

I was grinning to myself at how smart Mickey was when his phone in his jeans pocket rang.

I didn’t think much of this, didn’t even look at him until I felt the shiver trill down my spine.

My head snapped his way to see his focus completely on his phone, his lips muttering, “Sorry, gotta take this,” and his legs moving him out of the kitchen.

I had one eye on Mickey wandering across the landing, one hand on the handle of the knife I was pulling out of the block and half a mind on my daughter who was asking me, “Mom, you want me to nuke the caramel sauce?” when Mickey stopped, turned and started back our way.

“Right. There in ten,” he stated, took his phone from his ear and looked to me. “Gotta go, babe. Fire on the jetty.”

My body stilled completely.

Mickey’s didn’t. His long legs brought him in my space where he bent quick, hand cupped on the back of my head to tilt it, and he brushed his lips against mine so briefly, it was a memory while it was happening.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“That’s okay,” I forced out.

He let me go and looked between the kids. “Sorry to cut this short. Good meal. Cool to meet you.”

“No probs,” Auden replied as Mickey moved swiftly to the door. “Cool to meet you too.”

“Be safe!” my daughter, far more together than me, called as the door was closing on Mickey.

I stared at the door.

There in ten.

I kept staring at the door.

Fire on the jetty.

“Mom, you okay?”

Mickey was off to fight a fire on the jetty.

“Hey, Mom, you okay?”

I blinked and saw Pippa in my space.

“There’s a fire on the jetty,” I whispered and watched my daughter watching me and then I saw her face twist.

Fear.

For Mickey, maybe.

For me, that was the bigger possibility.

I’d proved to both my kids that I couldn’t handle extreme situations.

She thought I was going to lose it.

So I had to pull myself together for a variety of reasons.

For my daughter, who, like my son possibly was with his father, had me to look to to learn how to cope with life and all it could throw at you.

For Mickey, who loved being a firefighter and wanted me in his life so I had to prove I had it in me to deal when something like this happened. He fought fires. He didn’t need to do it at the same time worried his woman was at home falling apart with worry.

And for my son, who possibly was manning up, thinking he had to take care of his mom, and who also didn’t need to worry about his mother falling apart.

Mickey was trained. Mickey was experienced. Mickey had done this before.

I had to trust in him and in the fates that brought him to me. And I had to trust that having him, thus having happiness, the fates wouldn’t then sweep it all away.

I drew in breath and focused on my daughter.

“Okay, do we want pie? And I didn’t ask, did you guys get your schoolwork done? This was a big night for us and we were all busy preparing. But now there’s time so you can hit it without having to stay up until midnight.”

Pippa stared at me in blank surprise.

“I got stuff to do,” Auden shared.

I looked to my son. “You want to do it eating pie?”

He was examining me closely.

He stopped doing that, gave me a gentle grin and asked, “Am I Auden Moss?”

“You are,” I confirmed, grinning back. It might be forced but damn it, I did it.

“Then…totally,” Auden answered about the pie.

“Okay. I’ll get pie,” I said. “You get your books.” I turned my attention back to Pippa. “Sweets? How about you?”

She kept staring at me a moment before she snapped out of it and told me, “I have a paper to write.”

“Oh God, I hope it isn’t a long one,” I mumbled.

“It’ll go faster with pie,” she declared.

I winked at her and replied, “Gotcha. Need my laptop?”

“I have mine.”

“Okay. Let’s get on it,” I said, moving back to the pie.

I was quaking inside and I let that happen.

Outside, I was holding it together.

Maybe one day I’d be able to completely deal.

Maybe not.

It didn’t matter.

This was working.

* * * * *

The TV was playing. The kids were on the couch watching it. I was in my armchair with a full glass of wine I hadn’t touched in an hour and a half.