“Also, Maddox has your Amazon password, so be ready for that bill.”
She groans.
“He’s only had it for fifteen minutes or so. You can minimize the damage by changing the password.”
“That boy.” She sighs. “Anyway, you are good? Have you talked to Hollis? Did you tell him that I can’t wait to meet him?”
Her words do more for me than any hug or I love you. Her honesty and genuine excitement over adding Hollis to our family is so apparent, and I love her so much for it.
I know they’ll get along great. I just need a little time to get to know Hollis myself, to really build a foundation between the two of us before the Carmichaels roll in with the welcome wagon.
“I had dinner with him last night. He can’t wait to meet you too. I just need a little more time, Mom. I hope you understand.”
“I’m trying to. I promise.”
“Thank you. How is everyone? How are the boys?” I ask, using the collective term I started using years ago for all of my brothers.
“Oh, you know your brothers. They’re trying to see which one is going to make me gray first.”
“Better than being in competition with each other to make you a grandma first.”
She laughs. “Oh, heavens, yes. I’d like them to be settled down and happily married—or at least in a serious relationship—before that happens.”
“Do you ever think Banks is actually going to be in a serious relationship? He eats cold SpaghettiOs. He’s a child—and not a particularly smart one.”
“Yes, well, Banks is a special case.”
We both laugh.
“Do you need anything?” Mom asks. “I was looking for rentals for you today. I found a couple that look like good leads if you need them.”
“Yeah. Will you text them to me?”
“I’d love to.”
I grin. “Thanks.”
“Of course. Do you need anything else? I can Prime stuff like it’s my job.”
“Dad thinks that is your job,” I say, laughing.
“As long as I get something for him too, he can’t say a word. That’s a little tip for you.”
“I think that one will be more helpful than the laundry sorting rules.”
She groans. “Don’t tell me you’re still not sorting your laundry.”
“Mom, no one is sorting their laundry anymore. It’s whites, lights, and darks. Maybe towels separately.”
“I can’t take it. This is hurting my heart.”
“I’ll tell you what—when I ruin my stuff, you can Prime me new towels.”
“Deal!”
We chuckle. The heat starts to build in my car, so I crank up the blowers.
“Okay, I better get off here and see what we’re having for dinner,” she says. “Maddox asked me to make him a pot of chicken noodle soup, and I think I’m out of egg noodles.”
“God forbid.”
“I’d make a pot for you too if you were here, you little stinker.”
“Tell Mad I said hi,” I say. “Tell Banks to fuck off.”
“Paige!”
I giggle. “I’m kidding, Mom. Relax. Don’t tell Banks anything at all. That’ll drive him the craziest.”
“He does like attention, doesn’t he?”
“You think?” I hold my hand over the vent to thaw my fingers. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“If you don’t, I’ll come up there and find you.”
“Love you, Mom.”
“I love you, sweetheart.”
“Change your password! Bye.”
I end the call and then sit back in my seat, relishing in the glow of being my mother’s daughter. It took us a while to get here, but we made it. And I’m so happy about it.
Now on to the fun stuff.
I hope.
I back out of the parking spot and head to Nate’s.
SEVEN
PAIGE
“Hi!” I call out as I shut the front door behind me.
The television is on in the living room. The canned laughter of a cartoon greets me before anything else. Whiffs of spices float through the air as I hang my purse on an empty hook in the foyer next to Ryder’s backpack.
I slip off my shoes before walking farther into Nate’s house.
“We’re in the kitchen,” Nate shouts.
I make my way through his home, noting how warm and aromatic it is. I would never imagine that Nate, the burly guy from work who every patron that enters respects out of fear, would have a house that truly feels like a home.
“Hi, Paige!” Ryder stands on a stool and stirs a pot on the stove. Steam rolls from the large orange container. “We’re making spaghetti.”
“You are? That’s fun.”
“Yup. We are.”
His eyes sparkle with excitement. I follow his gaze to the island. To his dad.
Dear sweet heavens. Now my eyes are sparkling with excitement.
Nate stands at the counter with a knife in his hand. A gray T-shirt with Landry Security in bold, black letters emblazoned on the front is stretched over his broad chest. He looks up at me, then at Ryder, and then back to me and grins.
You’re lucky your kid is here because damn.
“I’ll behave,” I mouth to him.
He chuckles.
“Can I help?” I ask, standing tall like a well-behaved woman.