Easy (Chicago Blaze 6)
“Mother? Why’d you say it like that?” Vi demands, following her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means Aunt Allie’s our real mom! You’re so stupid!” Hazel yells.
Allie gives me a weary look. “I have to go take care of that.”
“I understand.”
“Can I give you a call later?”
“Nah, let’s just talk in person later.”
She scrunches her face and says, “It’s probably gonna stay ugly in there for a while. I’ve got two adolescent girls who can battle for hours.”
I pat her thigh and stand up. “I’ve seen worse, Al.”
She smiles. “You haven’t called me that in so long.”
At the sound of something breaking inside the house, we both rush in.
“Put it down!” a tall teenage boy tells Vi. “You’re not starting this crazy shit.”
Vi turns to us, holding a kitchen plate in the air. There’s another one shattered on the floor.
“Go ahead, but you’ll be sorry,” Allie says calmly.
Vi seems to consider before lowering the plate back to the counter.
“Why is he still here?” she demands, pointing at me. “Aren’t we going to talk about Mom?”
“What more is there to say?” Allie says. “I’m not letting her take you guys.”
“Why not?”
“Because I love you. And I don’t think she’d be able to take good care of you.”
Hazel approaches Allie and throws her arms around her, burying her face in Allie’s shirt.
“Don’t let mom snow you, Vi,” the boy, who has to be Max, says. “She never wanted us before, why does she all of a sudden want us now?”
“She loves us,” Vi says, sobbing.
“She does love you,” Allie says. “She loves you guys very much. Just because she wasn’t able to raise you doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you.”
“Then why won’t you let us go with her?” Vi pleads.
“I’m not going,” Max says.
“Me either,” Hazel says.
“Just me, then,” Vi says to Allie. “I want to be with her and you’d still have Max and Hazel. Will you please just think about it?”
Allie exhales hard. “Vi, I’m sorry. I know none of you asked for this. But we’re a family and we’re staying together. Your mom can move to Greentree Falls if she wants to be part of your life.”
“But California is so much better than Greentree Falls! She gets bored in this little hick town.”
“I don’t want her living here,” Hazel says. “I wish I never had to see her again.”
“Don’t you know how bad that makes her feel?” Vi asks, scowling. “You’re being a bitch!”
“Vi!” Allie scolds.
Vi runs upstairs, sobbing loudly, and Hazel follows, yelling at her.
Allie bends down to pick up pieces of the shattered plate. I bend down next to her.
“Hey, let me get that.”
“No, you don’t need to.”
I put my fingertips beneath her chin, tipping her face up so our eyes meet.
“Let me. There’s not much I can do for you right now, but I can do this. Go take care of your girls, and I’ll be right here when you’re done. It doesn’t matter how long it takes.”
Her eyes soften. “Thank you.”
She stands, takes a deep breath and heads upstairs. Max walks over with a broom and dustpan.
“Hi, I’m Erik,” I say, standing to shake his hand.
“Max. Welcome to our crazy, estrogen-filled household.”
“It’s all good,” I say, chuckling lightly.
He squats down, holding the dustpan, and I sweep the shattered pieces into it.
“Are you and my aunt dating?” he asks me.
I think about how to answer him and say, “I’m not sure, but I hope so.”
“She deserves somebody who will treat her nice. She’s always doing things for us and never for herself.”
“It’s good that you appreciate that. My mom raised me by herself starting when I was fourteen, and I wouldn’t be where I am without her.”
Max looks away. “My mom’s nothing like Aunt Allie. I can’t believe they’re even related.”
“What about you? Do you play any sports?”
“Football and track.”
“Hey, good for you.”
“I was never any good at hockey.” He shrugs.
“I was never any good at football.”
He dumps the plate’s shards into the trash can and puts away the broom and dustpan, then returns.
“Do you like spaghetti?” he asks, gesturing at the food on the table. “I can heat it back up.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
He gives me a questioning look. “Microwave okay?”
“Yeah, but let’s cover it up so Allie doesn’t end up with tomato sauce all over.”
As we wait for the spaghetti to reheat, Max gives me a tentative look and asks, “Do you cook for yourself, or do you have like, a chef?”
“During the offseason, I cook for myself but I’m really not great at it,” I admit. “During the season, my teammate Knox’s wife, Reese, cooks healthy meals for the team to take on the road, and she also cooks stuff we can freeze and reheat on our off days.”
“Wow, that’s sick.”
“Yeah it’s pretty cool. We pay her, but it’s a lot of work on her part. She’s also a chef and has her own restaurant. I think she creates the recipes and her staff prepares them. The food is phenomenal, except eggplant. I hate that stuff.”