Dream Keeper (Dream Team 4)

“I’m fed up with stupid stuff happening,” Juno muttered to her plate, and he felt tension, just as sure as he felt the same from Pepper.

“What other stupid stuff is happening, baby?” Pepper asked gently.

“You know, Grandma being sick. And you know, Granddad always being all…weird. And that kind of stuff.”

She shoved a bite of dumpling in her mouth.

Auggie met Pepper’s eyes over Juno’s body.

“Stay late?” she mouthed.

He was so totally staying late.

He nodded.

“Life stinks sometimes, baby,” she murmured to her daughter. “We’ll talk about it more tomorrow after I get finished seeing Grandma. But for now, do you think you can have fun with me and Auggie?”

Juno looked at him. “I thought you were gonna bring dessert.”

“Juno,” Pepper chided.

“I could have grabbed something from King Soopers, and I could still head out and grab something. But I figured you might wanna hit Glacier instead.”

Juno sat up so fast from her lounge against her mother’s backside and thighs, she almost lost her plate.

“Glacier!” she cried.

It hadn’t been lost on him that she’d gone mental when they’d been at a cookout at Lottie and Mo’s and Mo had said he was gonna go get ice cream and asked Juno to help him pick flavors from Glacier.

“Work for you?” Auggie asked casually.

“That’s my favorite,” Juno told him what he already knew.

“You’re joking. I never would have guessed,” he teased.

She shot him a smile even while wrinkling her nose. It was cute as fuck, but that wasn’t the only reason he grinned.

“Awesome,” she told her plate, returning to it with a lot more enthusiasm.

That was why he grinned.

“Yeah, totally freaking awesome,” Pepper murmured, and Aug looked at her to see her looking at him with a warmth he felt so deep in his bones, he wasn’t sure it’d ever leave.

Then she, too, returned to her plate.

“Next time you come over for dinner, you get to decide what we cook,” Juno declared.

That had Auggie grinning at his plate.

“You like ham?” he asked.

“Yes,” Juno answered.

“Hash browns?” he asked.

“Yes,” Juno answered.

“Then we’ll make my ham and hash casserole,” he stated.

She turned to him. “Does it have cheese?”

“Yes, lots of it.”

She shot him a sassy smile. “Approved.”

Auggie started laughing.

And if he wasn’t wrong, he heard Pepper let out a sigh when he did.

So he looked at her and saw her eating, her face soft, her attention in the room, her vibe chilled.

Pepper looks happy.

That’s the goal.

And it was the goal.

Another goal: that right there.

Safe at home.

With her kid.

And her guy.

People around her that gave a shit.

People around her that thought she was the shit.

People around her that cared a whole fuckuva lot.

So she could be relaxed.

And chill.

Chapter Twenty

Happiness Is…

Pepper

He’d picked her up.

Picked my eight-year-old baby up and sat her on the hood of his car in the parking lot of a gelato spot.

When he’d done that, she’d gotten stars in her eyes and I think she fell a little bit (more) in love.

I did too.

Then Auggie leaned into a hand against his hood close to her, and they licked ice cream cones in the dry chill of a November night.

Auggie in his blue sweater.

Juno wearing her cute, purple puffy vest over her navy-blue thermal that had big purple and aqua flowers all over it, a purple, teal and pink beanie on her head with a massive hot pink floof on the top of it.

They were adorable together.

In the ice cream shop, he’d encouraged her to try every flavor she wanted and teasingly conducted an interview where he asked her to review them as she was doing it. She got into it, acting all serious even while stifling giggles.

It was fabulous. Like they had their own YouTube channel about ice cream.

He’d bought her a double scoop.

He’d also tipped big so we didn’t seem like assholes because we took so much time and tried so much gelato.

Once outside, they talked about the Thanksgiving play.

And they talked about how cool Mr. Sykes was.

And they talked about how all the boys and some of the girls in her class wanted to be marines now.

And they talked about how Juno was a master dumpling folder.

Sometimes Juno would laugh.

Sometimes Auggie would.

And I leaned against Auggie’s hood a few feet away from them, quiet and eating my own ice cream.

Because this felt like a different kind of date.

It was going well.

And I was totally a third wheel.

But watching them together, I thought this was it.

This was what happiness is.

* * *

Later that night, after gelato at Glacier, I sat on the side of Juno’s bed like I used to when she was little, and I smoothed her soft hair back.

“You gonna sleep okay?” I asked.

“Sure,” my girl murmured to the wall opposite us.

She was lying on her side with her back to me, the better for me to get my fingers through her hair.

I drew in breath and let it out, noting, “You sure? It was a big night. Auggie here. Uncle Birch showing.” I hesitated. “Your grandma.”