18
Grayson
“I don’t want any more, Dad.”
I look at Jack’s plate to determine how much of his food he ate. “Three more bites.”
He rolls his eyes but shoves a chicken tender into his mouth and tears off a chunk.
Surprisingly, Emma ate every last bite of her mac-n-cheese. Or, not surprisingly, since Nora reminded her every two minutes to take another bite, and even helped her a few times.
“Can I have ice cweam now?” Emma asks, looking at Nora.
“You’ll have to ask your dad.”
“Can I, Daddy?”
“I guess.”
“Yes!” Jack says, finishing off his chicken strip. “They have the best ice cream here.”
Henry slaps the table, excited simply because his brother and sister are, and sends a spoon clattering to the floor.
Nora and I bend over at the same time to get it and bump heads on the way down.
“Are you okay?”
She nods and pulls back, rubbing her forehead. “I’m fine.”
I snag the spoon and toss it on my empty plate.
Nora reaches into the diaper bag and grabs a toy tractor for Henry. He grabs for it with his sticky fingers.
“Not yet, you dirty little monster.” She wipes him down with a wet wipe until his hands are nice and clean, and then hands him the toy. She smiles softly at him and runs her fingers through his hair while Nick babbles on about a big job he just landed.
I try really hard to pay attention to what he’s saying, but it’s difficult with Nora acting all sweet to my kids. They’ve taken to her with such ease, and a pang of guilt hits me in the center of my chest. These are the moments they’re missing out on with Lorelei.
Jack’s laughter breaks into my thoughts, and I shake my head.
“So, Nora, did you tell Grayson about the car sitting in your garage back in LA?” Nick says.
She laughs. “You mean the one with a thick layer of dust? No, I haven’t.”
“Tell me about it.”
She shakes her head. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” Jessa says, pulling out her phone. “I might have a picture of it.”
“What kind of car is it?” I ask.
Nora stares at her cup as she swirls it around on the table. “It’s a Mustang.”
I’m picturing something new and sparkly, probably red with a black ragtop, when Nick says, “That car is not just a Mustang. It’s a 1969 Boss 302.”
My jaw hits the floor. “That’s my favorite model. I had no idea you were into cars.”
Nora smiles. “It’s my special kept secret.”