The Will (The Magdalene Series) (Volume 1)(187)

By the way, Jake was a master pumpkin carver. I knew this because he helped Ethan freehand carve a Combat Raptor pumpkin that, if there were such contests, would win an award. I was sure of it.

Conner, Amber and Alexi stayed behind to hand out candy at Jake’s (this Jake arranged, with Conner being a vaguely disguised chaperone) while we took Ethan out.

When we got back, I asked Conner to keep an eye on his brother’s candy consumption and went to bed without Jake for the first time since we started sharing one. Which was to say, unless Jake was at the club, Jake and I went to bed together every night since we started sharing a bed.

Jake joined me later, waking me as he pulled me in his arms and I fell right back to sleep hearing him mutter, “Next year, you’re gonna stay home and hand out candy so you don’t pass out after walkin’ twenty miles watchin’ Ethan get his haul.”

I was just happy there would be a next year.

This was why, I fell right back to sleep.

It was not lost on me that I had sat beside the runways of the most lauded designers of our time. I had traveled to five continents and done it repeatedly. I knew the best place to buy croissant in Paris. I’d eaten pizza at the Antica Pizzeria Port’Alba in Naples. I’d sunbathed on Bondi Beach in Australia. And I’d slept in an actual igloo in Alaska.

But carving pumpkins and roasting pumpkin seeds in Jake’s kitchen were the most fabulous thing I’d ever done.

Bar none.

On this thought, with senses attuned from taking care of two eight year old boys who’d evacuated their stomachs due to overindulgence, even over Alyssa’s shouting and a rabid fighting crowd, I heard a candy wrapper. I looked down to see Ethan opening up a fun-size Snickers.

I leaned into him and said in his ear, “Honey, I know you like your treats but I suspect you’d prefer to ingest that and not re-experience it later, hanging over a toilet bowl. So let’s make that the last one tonight, hmm?”

I pulled slightly away and caught his eyes. They were looking in mine and Eath (such a wonderful child) nodded.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” I said.

He chewed, swallowed and grinned a chocolate, peanut, caramel and nougat grin.

I grinned back.

At this point, Alyssa shot out of her chair, jumped up and down on her strappy, high-heeled sandals and started screeching, “That’s right, baby! Get in there. Don’t let up! Take him down!”

I allowed myself to admire her attractive, albeit brief and tight, red dress before I looked to the ring to see Junior had his opponent up against the ropes and was landing a succession of combinations that his competitor was having difficulties defending against.

Alas, the referee pushed them apart and moved in to assess the condition of Junior’s challenger. The man shook his head side to side to clear it then looked the referee in the eyes and nodded.

The referee let them loose again.

“Stupid ref,” Alyssa groused, plonking herself down in the seat beside me, her eyes never leaving the ring.

The bell rang and since it was only the second round, we had another one to go before Alyssa again shot from her seat, lost her mind, shrieking, clapping and jumping up and down when the referee lifted Junior’s hand.

He smiled down at his wife.

She blew him a kiss that was so exaggerated she came off her feet when she swung her arm wide. Then she turned instantly to the seat, snatched up her purse and coat and her eyes came to me.

She leaned into me and said low, “Right, Operation Tag Team commence. You got Bryant. I get home with my man and get laid. You text when Jake’s done, drop Eath and Bry at our place so you can get laid. Yeah?”

I nodded, enjoying the happy light in my friend’s eyes and trying to ignore the happier feeling between my legs considering what was to come for me.

“Yes,” I agreed.

She lifted her fist, knuckles facing me, something Conner had taught me about a week ago was a “fist bump.” He did this after he did the same to me and I stared at his hand nonplussed for half a minute before he showed me what to do.

Thus, I knew what to do, bumped my fist against hers, and she breathed, “I love fight night.”

I giggled as I encouraged, “Go.”

I needed to give her no further encouragement. She dashed to her son, grabbed either side of her face, gave him a loud kiss right on the mouth, which made him shout, “Euw, Mom!”

She then tousled his hair, looked to Ethan and said, “Later, buddy.”

“Later, Mrs. Harper,” Ethan replied.

Alyssa gave me a finger wave and took off down the aisle.

“Can we get popcorn?” Bryant asked and I looked to him.

“Think hard about your stomach, the fullness of it, the possibility if more was introduced that it may need to purge some to fit the rest and then tell me if you really want popcorn,” I stated.

“What’s purge mean?” he asked.

“Evacuate,” I answered and he grinned.

“What’s evacuate mean?” he asked.

At that, I grinned.

“Empty,” I answered.

“You talk so freakin’ cool,” he replied. “Weird. But cool.”

“Indeed. And you will find, young Bryant, as you grow older that things that are normal are just normal. Anyone can be normal. Thus it’s my experience that most things that are weird are cool.”