The Slow Burn (Moonlight and Motor Oil #2)(110)

There were toss pillows on the couch (Toby picked them out at Pottery Barn). There was a lamp on an end table by the couch (that was me). There was a his and hers reading nook tucked in the corner with two comfy chairs that shared an ottoman, table and a standing lamp, plus a smaller chest filled with Brooks’s toys (totally Toby). And upstairs, the master bedroom had been kitted out with some throws, toss pillows, two kickass armchairs, and a spindly-legged table with a small lamp on top (that was me, with help from Margot).

It was Toby who’d had the photo of my mom in the moonlight professionally enlarged even larger than I’d unprofessionally had it enlarged, as well as treated so you could see her. He’d had it framed and he’d mounted it over the corner fireplace in our room.

It was a better present than Barbarella, by far, and Barbarella was awesome.

It was also Toby who’d put a rocking chair in the corner and fixed some shelves for Brooks’s books and toys on a wall and bought big tin letters that spelled Brooklyn’s Place that he’d installed over Brooklyn’s crib in his room.

All that was almost better than the picture of my mom.

But not quite.

Coming in a close third, for my birthday, he’d done this whole Martha Stewart Would Have an Orgasm craft space in the loft, where I could make my cards and do other stuff during my me time.

I still sold cards (and notecards, notecard sets and postcards) at Macy’s as well as Carol’s shop in Bellevue. Not to mention, I’d done Johnny and Izzy’s save-the-date cards and wedding invitations, which bought me an order of wedding invites from Carolyn, Lora’s friend (now my friend) and birthday invites from Bea, (also my friend now through Lora). I’d shown them a photo of Izzy’s save the date at Magic Mike night during my initiation and the seal was broken.

I wasn’t complaining.

I no longer needed the money. So I used it to spoil my boys.

I felt bad I had a space and Toby didn’t for about thirty seconds, which was the time it took for him to explain his space was parked in front of the TV or when he was fucking me in our bed.

So I let that go.

We also had a smattering of SMEG appliances on the countertops courtesy of my Christmas Crate and Barrel gift card.

And a breadmaker because we liked to make our own pizza, from base up.

He popped his beer, poured wine and was getting out the breadmaker as I shuffled through mail.

“Dan outside?” Toby asked when I saw it.

“Yeah,” I muttered, staring at the envelope, my heart starting to race.

I vaguely noted Toby heading to the back door as I headed to the utility drawer to get out the letter opener (see? totally domesticated—I’d never had a letter opener in my life).

Dapper Dan was in and I heard Toby murmuring his greetings to our dog, knowing he was giving a fur rubdown as I slid the letter out and read it.

It wasn’t what I expected.

My skin still went chill.

I read it again.

“Addie.”

I read it again.

“Adeline.”

Slowly, my head turned to Toby who was standing right by my side.

“My grandmother died. I’ve been asked to the reading of her will next Friday.”

He glanced at the letter than back at me. “Which grandmother?”

“Dad’s.”

“Fuck,” he murmured quietly so Brooks wouldn’t hear.

My body jumpstarted. “I need to call Izzy.”

“Yeah,” he said, gently taking the letter from me as I moved to the island to get my phone.

I glanced at him to see he was reading it before I moved outside to the back deck to make the call.

It was summer. We needed deck furniture.

This was my thought as the phone rang.

I knew Iz was talking into her car, still on her way home from the city, when she answered it.

“Hey, doll. What’s up?”

“I got a letter from a law firm in Lexington. Dad’s mother died and the will is going to be read on Friday. They’ve asked for my attendance. And if they’ve asked for me, you might have a letter too.”

“Oh boy,” she replied.

“Yeah,” I said.

“I . . . Dad might be there,” she noted.

“Yeah,” I said.

The door opened, and I turned to see Toby there with my glass of wine.

He handed it to me.

I took it.

He didn’t leave me.

“Okay, I’ll call you if I got a letter,” Izzy said.

“Yeah.”

“You okay?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Is Toby there?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I think so. Are you gonna go?” she queried.

“I have one personal day. So . . . I think so. Do you wanna go?”

“I . . . don’t know. I don’t want to see him.”

“I don’t either but I also kind of do.”

She sounded surprised. “You do?”

I did.

Kind of.

I was awesome. Iz was awesome. We were healthy, happy. Daphne raised two strong, beautiful girls.

I wanted him to see that.

I didn’t want to be up in his face about it. I didn’t care that much.