Soaring (Magdalene #2)(168)

A success.

Which meant more happy for me.

And by the way he was acting, more importantly, for Mickey.

* * * * *

I got the news by text the next day that Mickey had got the go-ahead from everyone for Auden and his friend Joe to hang at the firehouse on Friday night.

The boys had gladly given up any Friday night activities, including the high school football game, to go hang with the guys of the MFD.

I had been a wreck until I got a text from Mickey at midnight that said, They’re asleep in bunks. It’s all good, babe.

I got more the next morning when Auden came home (that was to my home as in our home), full of talk about how he and Joe thought Mickey and the guys were “the bomb” and they couldn’t wait to do it again.

This “do it again” business did not fill me with glee. Mickey had told me the last major fire they’d been called to before the one at the jetty had been during a heat spell that came with a drought that had meant some 4th of July fireworks had taken a house with it, this happening three years before. They’d had many minor incidents, but no major ones.

I still fretted about my son liking hanging in a firehouse and what that might mean.

But he was discovering who he was and what he wanted to be. As Mickey told me, he had to have the space to do that and I had to find the strength to let him.

So I did.

And anyway, he was doing it with Mickey. He liked him. He respected him. And he wanted to spend time with him.

So that worked for me.

* * * * *

I was wandering through Wayfarer’s not paying a lot of attention to my grocery shopping because I was texting back and forth with Robin about her drinks with Lawrie.

To her Did you know he asked the ice queen for a divorce?

I sent, I did know things were coming to a head, and I did this thinking I really needed to phone my brother. I had no idea it had gone that far.

This got me, He’s staying there, separate bedrooms, looking for a house. He’s close to offering on one.

Definitely needed to phone my brother.

I replied, Wow. Things have progressed. But did you guys have fun?

She returned, Of course. He’s Lawrie. We were out for hours and laughed all night.

I tried not to be bad and hope all night meant all night and sent, That’s good. So glad.

That was when she thrilled me by saying, I told him I’d planned on going up to Solvang. Do some wine tasting. The vault is low. He said if I drive up and stop in Santa Barbara after Thanksgiving, he might be able to show me the new house.

She loved Solvang. There was little not to love. The town was great. The wineries were fabulous.

But she’d been up there tons of times. She knew what she liked. She could order what she liked and have it shipped. She didn’t have to drive up there.

This was promising.

I liked it.

You should go, I replied.

I think I will, she returned.

That was when, wandering down an aisle, leaning on my cart and texting, I heard, “Amy.”

It was not Mickey, Aisling or Cillian saying it.

My head snapped up and I saw Boston Stone in the aisle with me.

I went cold, completely, inside and hopefully he saw it on the outside.

“Boston.” Ice dripped from his name.

His eyes narrowed at my tone. Then again, he didn’t look happy before I sent him the ice.

Then, if it could be believed, he stated, “You are aware that at our ages, teenage antics are no longer appropriate. Say, when a man shows interest in you and phones you, if you don’t share those feelings, instead of ignoring him, you say that directly with him.”

I stared up at him knowing in that moment that the blow he wanted to land on Mickey was a blow he hoped to land on Mickey that was really directed at me.

Why were some people such *s?

I stared coolly into his eyes. “And you should be aware that when a woman shows little enthusiasm for your calls, has no time for you, and stops answering, that’s her way of saying that she’s not interested. A gentleman would leave it at that without pushing her to doing more, which is always awkward and uncomfortable. But just to say, Boston, we’d had a single date. Frankly, I didn’t owe you anything.”

“I disagree,” he retorted.

“You’ve made that clear,” I assured him.

He looked down the aisle and back to me. “I guess there’s nothing more to say except have a good day.”

“The same to you.”

He didn’t mean it.

I didn’t either.

He nodded and walked down the aisle.

I didn’t nod and walked down my aisle thinking that perhaps I should start going to a different grocery store. Wayfarer’s was a gourmet market. I could get things a lot cheaper if I drove to the big supermarket in the next town.

The problem was, I liked Wayfarer’s and what was the point of being filthy rich if you couldn’t shop at expensive places that you liked?

When I had the groceries packed in the back and I was in the Rover, I called Mickey and told him what happened.

I did this hesitantly, thinking he might be mad that Boston confronted me.

He burst out laughing.

When I could get a word in he might hear, I asked, “You think it’s funny?”

“Hilarious,” he confirmed.

“Well…” I trailed off, not knowing if I liked that or not.