Maybe Matt's Miracle(9)

“Why didn’t he tell me?”

“Umm…” I don’t know how much to tell her. “He’s afraid that if he gives you too much work to do, you’ll leave them, and then the state will put his sisters in foster care.”

She growls and sits forward. “And you got all that from him at dinner?”

I nod and raise my beer to my lips. “I’ve known them longer,” I say.

“How long did you and Kendra date?” she asks.

I choke on my beer. I cough into my closed fist for a minute. “What?”

“You and Kendra,” she says again. “How long had you been going out?”

“Oh, we weren’t like that,” I rush to say. “We were just friends.”

“Oh,” she says. Then silence settles over the room. Finally she says, “So, wrestling, huh? Isn’t that a little barbaric?”

I smile. “Nope. It’s all strategy and strength and conditioning. It’s good for him.”

“What if he gets hurt?”

“He’s a boy. He’s going to get hurt.”

“You have all the answers, don’t you?” she says.

Unfortunately, I don’t have any answers. About anything. “If he wrestles, he’d have to go straight there after school every day. That might give you some time to get to know Mellie and Joey when you pick them up.”

She nods. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Everyone needs a plan,” I say with a grin. She smiles, and I feel this little flutter in my heart.

I hear a door open behind us, and Seth comes out of his room. He looks over at us, his gaze shooting from Skylar to me and back. “Everything okay?” he asks.

Skylar sits up and rests her elbows on her knees. “Matt was just telling me about wrestling,” she says.

Seth groans and throws his head back, sending me a look like he wishes I had kept my mouth shut.

“I think you should sign up,” she says. Her voice quivers a little.

“What about the girls?” he asks.

“What about them?” she replies. “I’ll just start picking them up every day.”

Seth scratches his head. “You’re okay with that?”

She nods and smiles at him. “I’m fine with it.”

Seth smiles at her, too. “Okay,” he says.

“Will you let me know when your games are so I can come watch?” she asks.

“Matches,” Seth and I both say at the same time.

She laughs and holds up both hands in surrender. “Matches,” she repeats. “Sorry,” she says, but she’s laughing, too. “So, can I go to your matches?” she asks.

Seth nods. “Sure.” He looks toward the kitchen like he wants to get free. “I’m just going to get some water and go to bed,” he says.

“Good night,” Skylar calls.

He looks back over his shoulder and says quietly, “’Night, Aunt Sky.”

He walks away, and I look over at Skylar, only she looks a little shell-shocked. Like a stiff wind could blow her over. “You okay?” I ask.

She laughs and shakes her head. “Did you hear that?” she asks.

“He’s going to wrestle?” I’m slightly baffled.

“No,” she says quietly. “He called me Aunt Sky.” Her eyes are a little misty, I realize, so I squeeze her knee. She covers my hand with hers and looks up at me. Her gaze shoots straight to the center of me. “Thanks for your help.” Suddenly, her phone chirps from her pocket, and she lets my hand go to reach for it. “My boyfriend,” she says. She doesn’t look very happy to be hearing from him.

“I should go.” She has a f*cking boyfriend, numbnuts, I remind myself. I get to my feet and throw my beer bottle in the recycling bin. She follows me to the door. “Call me if you need anything?” I suggest. Or if you don’t need anything, I want to add, but I don’t.

She leans heavily against the edge of the door. “I will,” she says. And I believe her. I just hope something goes dreadfully wrong so she’ll actually call me. No loss of life or limb or anything drastic. Maybe a leaky sink or a stopped-up toilet. “’Night,” she says.

“’Night,” I reply. She closes the door, and I stand there for a moment because I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be.

The door suddenly opens, and Sky sticks her head out. She bumps into my chest, and I steady her by grabbing her elbows. I try to wipe the grin off my face, but it’s almost impossible. “Did you need something else?” I ask over a laugh.

“You’re still here,” she says against my chest. The heat of her breath does funny things to my insides. And the rest of me. “I wanted to ask you something,” she says, her voice all breathy.

She leans a shoulder in the doorway and looks up at me, her eyes so blue and clear that I could fall into them and stay there. She bites her lower lip between her teeth and then says in one big rush, “You mentioned when we were walking into the restaurant that you didn’t take my hand just because it was trembling. I was wondering…um…why else you might do that.”

I reach up and tug the length of leather that was holding my hair back and let it fall around my face. Then I make a big production of tying it back up, but I really just want to buy myself some time to figure out how to answer her. I grin. “I did mention that wasn’t the only reason, didn’t I?” I ask, still stalling.