“I’m in love with you?” I asked quietly.
“Yeah, baby, that.”
“What about it?”
“What about it?” he repeated.
“Yeah, um… do you… uh…” Shit! He wasn’t ready for that. Now what did I say? “Is that too much for you? Should I have –?”
He cut me off by roaring with laughter. Roaring. So loud I was pretty sure he’d wake the girls (and Mooch).
“What’s funny?” I asked him and he shoved his face in my neck but his hands started roaming.
“You think maybe you might have wanted to tell me that?”
“Tell you what?”
His head came up. “Honey, keep up with me because this is pretty fuckin’ important.”
I felt my temperature increase as my anger elevated and I did my best to lock it down.
“I’m not following you, Joe. Maybe you could explain?”
His mouth came to mine and he whispered, “You’re in love with me.”
“Well, yeah.”
“Didn’t you think maybe you should share that with me?”
“Um… I thought I did.”
He kissed me lightly then his mouth went away but not far away when he said, “Woulda remembered that, buddy.”
“But, I gave up Mike and you’re moved in.”
“Yeah. So?”
“With me and the girls.”
He didn’t say, “Yeah. So?” again, he let his silence say it.
“Doesn’t that say it all?” I asked. “I mean, I wouldn’t let just any guy move in with me and the girls. I’m not like that. He’d have to mean something to me, like you do.”
I felt his body relax into mine before he asked quietly, “When did you know?”
“What?”
“That you loved me, when did you know?”
I felt my temperature decrease and my hand slid up his back and into his hair. “I don’t know. I just knew,” I answered softly.
“Vi –” he said my name on a gentle warning.
Quickly, to get it out because, being Joe he wasn’t going to let it go and when I said it, it was going to make me sound stupid, I told him. “When you said, ‘Baby, you aren’t wearing any shoes’ that second night we were together at your house.”
Immediately, he replied, “I knew you were the one when you were standin’ in my living room, wearing those stupid-ass boots, your nightie and that ratty robe.”
“That was the night we first met.”
“Yep.”
I was the one for Joe and he knew it the first night we met.
He knew I was the one. The one. The one.
And he knew it the first night we met.
I felt tears sting my eyes and my other arm wrapped tight around him.
“Joe,” I whispered.
His mouth came to mine again as his hands lifted my legs to wrap them around his hips and he whispered back, “I love you, baby.” I felt my breath hitch and the tears slid out the sides of my eyes but he wasn’t done. “And I’m not fuckin’ movin’ out.”
“Okay,” I replied instantly.
I felt him smile against my mouth then I felt his hand slide into my panties to cup my ass then he kissed me and, after that, he made love to me. He took his time, he let me take mine and it was better than any other time before.
So that was saying something.
* * * * *
After, Joe called, “Vi?”
“Yeah, baby?” I said into his chest.
“Move the mortgage and utilities, yeah?”
I sucked in breath then said, “Maybe we should –”
“Move ‘em.”
“Joe –”
His hand slid into my hair, fisted and he tilted my head back as he lifted his and dipped his chin.
“Not gonna say it again, baby,” he said softly.
“I’ve got more on my scales,” I whispered in reply.
His fist unclenched and his hand cupped the back of my head as he asked, “What?”
“You keep unbalancing the scales, giving me more. It’s not fair.”
He was silent a second then he asked quietly, “You shittin’ me?”
I shook my head.
His other arm went around me and he pulled me up his chest until I was face to face with him.
Then he spoke.
“Since I could remember, all I wanted was a family. My Mom died, my Dad lost it and I’d go to Aunt Theresa and Uncle Vinnie’s house, bein’ with their family, a family that was loud and in your business which part of the time was annoying as hell but the rest of the time it just felt good because they were that way because they gave a shit. And I wanted that. My Dad was so deep in his grief he lost his way and he forgot to give a shit so I never had that, not at home. I got older and that changed and all I wanted was a good woman and a family. All my life, with a slight variation on theme, that’s all I ever wanted. Buddy, you’ve given me both. You think, givin’ me that, I could ever balance those scales?”
I didn’t say anything, couldn’t, because I was crying.
Joe wrapped his arms around me, rolled us to our sides and held me while I did it. Once I stopped crying, his hand came up and he dried my tears with his thumb.
Then he whispered, “Move the mortgage and utilities, yeah?”
“Okay, Joe.”
He tucked my face in his throat and he was still whispering when he said, “Love you, buddy.”
“Love you too, Joe.”
“Sleep.”
“Okay. ‘Night, honey.”
“’Night, baby.”
I lay in his arms and thought I’d been lucky, getting pregnant at seventeen by the love of my life. I’d even known I was lucky all those years I had Tim.
Until I lost the love of my life.
And here I was, with all the shit that had gone down, finding myself just that lucky again.
I cuddled closer to Joe Callahan then I fell asleep.
* * * * *
I didn’t have a nightmare that night.
I slept the whole night through like a log, didn’t wake up once.
* * * * *
Wednesday went by mostly without incident.
That was if you didn’t count me coming home from work and Keira rushing out of her room, arms wheeling, Mooch following her yapping as she ran down the hall, shouting, “Joe bought us new computers!”
That day Kate had off from the Custard Stand so I knew Joe and the girls were going out to make final decisions on kitchen appliances, faucets for both kitchen and bathroom and to select tile for Joe’s house.
As far as I knew, computers weren’t in the mix.
“New computers?” I asked my daughter as she skidded to a halt in front of me (though Mooch came right at me and jumped around my legs).
“Yeah!” she shouted, her face alight with glee.
“Computers. As in, plural?” I went on, bending down to pick up Mooch and give him a snuggle.
“Yeah, one for Kate, one for me and a new desktop to replace our old one and act as a server.” Keira was watching my face, reading my expression and sensing my reaction, therefore her enthusiasm faded and she quickly explained, “Joe says they’re for homework. He says we need ‘em for school. He says our old one is too old and one computer for four people is ridiculous in this day and age.”
I let this information sink in, hearing Joe speaking these words in my head (and he probably used the f-word somewhere while saying them) as I juggled Mooch, dumped my purse on the counter and reminded myself that Joe had just got the family he always wanted. He was making up for lost time. It wouldn’t be good for me to blow my stack at Joe’s alarming tendency to spoil my daughters every chance he got. I had to be patient with him and find the right time to explain that new computers and the like were things family discussed. Or, more to the point, things adults discussed prior to them being purchased.
Then I heard what sounded like a drill.
“Is that a drill?” I asked Keira.
Keira turned her ankle to the side, bit her lip then stated, “Well, Joe decided we also needed desks to put our computers on while we’re doin’ our homework and…” She hesitated. “Um…” She hesitated again. “Shelves for our books.”
“Joe!” I shouted, forgetting about patience.
Mooch yapped and Keira jumped.
Then Keira muttered, “Uh-oh.”
The drill kept right on going as I dropped Mooch and stalked down the hall, repeating on a shout, “Joe!”
The drill stopped when I turned at the door to Keira’s room and saw Kate holding up some shelves (that I had to admit, to myself only, looked really good in Keira’s room). Joe was standing with her, his neck twisted to look at me standing in the door. I also saw there was a desk that matched the shelves. Both were painted white, both were immensely girlie and the desk had a laptop on it, the cover looked like it was purple glitter.
I was screwed. Keira was never going to give up a laptop with a purple glitter cover.
My narrowed eyes went to Joe. Mooch, having come to sit by my feet, yapped, giving me puppy backup.
Kate’s cautious eyes went beyond me to where I knew Keira was standing.
Joe put the drill on a shelf and moved toward me.
“In our room,” I demanded, “we gotta talk.”
He didn’t let me turn and stomp to our room. Before I moved an inch, he hooked me with an arm at my waist, pulling my stiff frame into the room as well as into his body and I realized he was fighting a smile as I watched his face dip close to mine.
“Baby, you don’t even have wi-fi,” he said, and, being Joe, he started his explanation somewhere in the middle.
It was true. We didn’t have wi-fi, because we didn’t need wi-fi because we only had one computer.
“We gotta talk,” I repeated.
“Girls can’t get shit done, sharin’ a computer,” he went on.
“Bedroom. Talk,” I bit out.
“Now they can work anywhere in the house where they’re comfortable. They’ll be more productive,” Joe continued.
This made sense.
I didn’t give him this point, instead, I snapped, “Joe –”
His head dipped closer and he touched his mouth to mine, effectively quieting me before he continued. “Katy’s gonna be a junior. She told me she’s college prep, come second semester, she’ll already be takin’ college credit courses. Work’s gonna get tougher, she’ll need her own space to concentrate and she’ll need a system to take with her when she goes away to school.”
“Right,” I replied sarcastically, “the rate your goin’, you’re not gonna buy her a new one before she goes off to college.”
At my words, firm indication to Joe, as well as the girls, that Joe was going to be there in two years to get Kate a new computer, Joe’s eyes went soft, his face grew tender and he grinned at me. Through this, I heard Keira stifle a giggle and Kate cough to hide her laugh.
Hearing my daughters’ amusement, seeing Joe’s face like that, I forgot why I was mad.
Joe saw it, or sensed it, and his arm around me tightened.
“If it makes you feel better, Kate bought the new beanbag for her room with her own money,” Joe told me and I rolled my eyes but I did this mostly for show.
When I rolled them back and looked at Joe, I stated, “No more shopping in your truck. You take my girls shopping, it has to be in the Mustang. Furniture and beanbags don’t fit in a Mustang.”
Joe was still grinning when he asked, “How’ll you get to work?”
“We’ll trade cars.”
His arm gave me a squeeze and he said, “You don’t drive my ride, honey, no one but me drives my ride.”
“Why? You drive mine,” I reminded him.
“Yeah, but I’m a guy,” Joe answered.
“This is true, Joe’s a guy,” Keira put in, coming to stand at our sides.
I looked at Keira, now trying to fight my own smile then back at Joe before pointing out, “Yeah, you’re a guy, why’re you shoppin’ at all?”
“Rulebook says I can shop for furniture and shit with plugs. The beanbag was pushin’ it but since I didn’t pay for it, I get a bye on that,” Joe explained and I heard mirth burst forth from both girls again, this time they didn’t smother it.
I put my hands on Joe’s arms and, giving in, I asked, “Are those shelves gonna be done by dinner?”
Joe gave me another squeeze then he touched his lips to mine before letting me go, moving back to the shelves and saying, “Depends if dinner’s gonna be ready in ten minutes or thirty.”
I wanted to know what dinner took ten minutes to be ready. Then I wanted to know if it was any good and not nuked in a microwave.
I didn’t ask, I answered, “Thirty, at least.”
Joe picked up the drill and looked at me. “Then, yeah.”
I looked at Kate who was smiling a small smile and still holding up the shelves. Then I looked at Keira who was standing at her new girlie desk, her fingertips on her new laptop, also smiling but hers wasn’t small. Then I looked at Mooch who was sniffing around on the floor, likely trying to find something to destroy with his puppy teeth. Then I looked at the girlie shelves that looked so good in Keira’s room. Then I looked at Joe.
“We’re eating at the table,” I informed them, my eyes still on Joe.
“Works for me,” Joe muttered, tilting his head and aiming the drill at the shelves.
“Me too,” Kate put in.
“Me three!” Keira added.
The drill whirred. I shook my head and left the room, going to Kate’s room to see she had black lacquered shelves and desk; a sleek, shiny black laptop; and a leopard print, furry beanbag. She’d already re-decorated, moving books and knick knacks she’d had piled on her dresser and nightstand to her new shelves and desk and rearranging posters.
This looked good too.
Though she’d need more books and knick knacks to fill it out.
I smiled as I walked to the kitchen. I made dinner with Mooch helping me (partly because I think he was afraid of the drill, partly because he knew I’d feed him scraps). We ate at the table. I did the dishes while the girls played with their laptops and did more redecorating. When I was done with the dishes, Joe showed me around the new computer in the study that already had four users programmed in it, the names all in a column, starting with “Joe” on top, “Violet” under that then “Kate” then “Keira”. Something about our names all in a column on the family computer struck me. It was a good hit. So good, I wondered why anyone on earth would need drugs. You could get high just having a family.
Later we climbed into the Mustang and went to Fulsham’s Frozen Custard Stand. Joe and I got cones, the girls got turtle sundaes. While we ate them, Joe and Kate sat side by side on the top of a picnic table outside while Keira sat on the seat by Kate’s feet and I sat on the seat by Joe’s feet, my back leaning into his legs.
I listened to Kate and Keira talk to Joe, Joe not saying much, Keira talking most but both Kate and Keira including him. Kate talking about her music and Keira talking about Joe’s house.
While I listened I noticed people looking at us. They didn’t stare but their curiosity was obvious. It was hot and muggy; we needed a storm to erase the humidity but hadn’t had one in days. Because of this, and summer coming to an end, school starting soon, the Stand was busy, tons of kids, some couples, more families. Studying our onlookers, I noticed Joe was the focal point of their curiosity, the girls and I too but not so much. It was clearly a sight to see, Lone Wolf Joe Callahan out with a woman and her two teenage daughters.
Again, this disturbed me. I couldn’t put my finger on why and I told myself eventually it would go away, people would get used to us and that bad feeling I got would fade.
We went back home and the girls went to their rooms and back to their new toys. Joe went to the fridge, opened a bottle of white wine, poured a glass for me, got himself a beer and we went out to the deck. He pulled the chair
s to the railing and we sat, side by side, our knees cocked, feet up on the railing, sipping wine and beer and I figured, since I loved him, since we’d had a good night and since this was us, it was good and this was going to be the way it was, I needed to know more about Joe.
So I asked Joe questions.
He didn’t hesitate with any of his responses. Including the scary ones, such as him getting the scar on his belly a long time ago when he was a bouncer and some drunk guy slashed him with a knife.
At my indrawn breath, Joe murmured in a gentle voice, “It wasn’t deep, baby, didn’t cause any harm.”
I didn’t point out that it did, seeing as it left a scar. I just asked about the other one.
That one was scarier, seeing as it was a scar from a bullet wound Joe got while bodyguarding. He didn’t say who he was guarding, apparently this was secret information and if he told me, he’d have to kill me (though Joe didn’t explain it that way, he just said. “Can’t tell you, Vi, so don’t ask.”).
What he did say was, “After that, focused on the systems. Dyin’ young to protect assholes I didn’t like fucked with my plan for retirement.”
This was funny, Joe cracking another joke, and I laughed but I also leaned to the side, putting my head on Joe’s shoulder and dropping my legs so they rested against his. In return, Joe slid an arm along my shoulders and pulled me closer. The chair handle bit into my side but I didn’t care. Bobbie had some lawn furniture that almost matched mine and there was a loveseat-style piece so I decided, since I didn’t have to pay a mortgage anymore, and since I liked sitting outside with Joe, our knees cocked, feet to the railing, I was going to buy it.
While we did this, I thought that it was good Joe was wise and he had a plan for retirement. If he’d been gung ho macho, taking these jobs just for the money and the thrill and not thinking about his future, he might not be there, on my deck, drinking beer with me at his side and my girls in the house.
And I liked him there.
But I’d like it better once I bought that loveseat.
After the scary portion of the evening’s conversation was over, Joe got up and got himself another beer, refilled my wine and he came back. Then we made plans to ask Lindy to come to dinner so the girls and I could meet her and we talked about the upcoming visit from my in-laws, something Joe didn’t seem all that concerned about.