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Cooper rolls his eyes but goes over to kiss Allyson’s cheek. “There. All better, Mom. But coaches can’t fight. It’s in the code of conduct rulebook. So are they gonna fire you, Coach B?” Of course, he’s read the rulebook. Like mother, like son.
“Honestly, Cooper, I don’t know. If they let me coach, I’ll be right there on the sidelines, doing my best to help the Wildcats do their best. If they won’t, then I’ll be in the bleachers cheering like a maniac.” I hold my big fists up in the air, waving invisible pompoms around and sing-songing, “Go Team!”
His eyes drop, and in his shoes, I can see his toes wiggling. “You’d still come? Even if you weren’t the coach?”
“Absolutely. Wild horses couldn’t keep me away. If it’s okay with you for me to come?” I don’t know if I’ve ever been on a hook this hard before. My entire future with Allyson rests on this kid wanting me to come around. If he’s scared from the fight or just flat doesn’t like me, she’ll never be with me and I won’t get the chance to be here with her and Cooper.
Insta-fucking-family, just like Bobby said. And damn, do I want it.
Cooper looks confused over why I’d even ask. “Of course I want you to come watch. You gotta see me make my first touchdown.” He throws his arms up over his head, cheering for himself for the imaginary score.
Michelle, who’s been watching the whole exchange with a careful smile, finally grins. “All right, you guys, I’m out. I told the sitter I’d only be a minute.” She holds up both hands, waving ’bye to us all.
But she sends a whole conversation’s worth of eyes to Allyson. Even though I’m not fluent in their silent language, I can read the ‘tell me everything later’ and ‘I’m happy for you.’
Once she’s gone, the three of us settle in for pancakes. Allyson has to pop them in the microwave, but none of us mind. It feels quaint, which is a word I wouldn’t even know if I hadn’t had to get a tutor for English in high school.
Such a small thing from so long ago, but it set everything so off course. As I look around the table now, though, I can feel the course correction, that everything is finally as it should be.
“So, what’s the plan for today?” I say, already knowing the answer but happy to set Cooper up for the answer.
“Bless this house!” he hollers with more excited celebration than dusting should ever get.
I smile, stuffing a forkful of pancakes into my mouth. “I remember where the vacuum is, so we’ll get to it after breakfast.”
From my vantage point of the doorway, I can see the whole kitchen. Allyson is with Mama Louise and Shayanne, dipping chicken into egg wash and flour, and Sophie is feeding Cindy Lou some green mush while supervising Cooper. He’s very carefully cutting tomatoes in half for the salad.
He’s doing a great job, so maybe I was being a bit overly protective when I told Mama Louise that she could not give an eight-year-old a knife. She’d smiled sweet as she could be while showing me the special knife she’d bought just for Cooper. It’s kid-friendly, blunt-tipped, and bright neon yellow like a highlighter. She’d been ready. She’d known he was gonna be here.
There’s a real chance that she might be psychic. Brody and Bobby disagree with me on that, but the Bennett boys just smile like they know something I don’t. Fuckers.
Speaking of, not that I said that part out loud in Mama Louise’s kitchen, James comes up behind me. He’s the craziest of his brothers, always ready with a kind smile and more often than not, a dirty joke. “There’s my girls,” he says happily.
I look at Sophie and Cindy Lou, who’s currently green-faced, but at least Sophie’s not wearing any of it, so that’s progress.
“Oh, shit,” James says quietly, smacking my arm with the back of his hand.
I glare down at him. Not much, he’s tall too, but nothing like me. “What?”
He’s looking at Allyson, Mama Louise, and Shayanne like he’s seeing ghosts. “Are they making fried chicken?”
“Duh,” I say, not getting why it’s a big deal when we have fried chicken at least two or three times a month. It’s not even his favorite, which I know from seeing how much roast he takes every time Mama Louise makes one.
James flashes me the biggest shit-eating grin I’ve ever seen on his face, and that’s saying something. “You don’t know, do you?”
I lift my brows sardonically. There’s a lot of shit around this house I don’t know, but it’s usually not anything that warrants this.
Mark and Katelyn come in the back door, interrupting whatever James was about to say. Instead, he looks to them and whispers, “Mama’s making fried chicken with Allyson.”
