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She points at the baby happily sitting in a highchair at the table. Her hair is standing up like she stuck her finger in a light socket and her socked feet kick out in a dance only she knows.
The blonde waves a wet hand and smiles welcomingly. “Katelyn. I’m Mark’s.”
We get to work, and it’s not quiet in the kitchen—the stirring spoon against the metal pot, the rip of lettuce, and the clatter of the dishes—but somehow, the silence is suffocating. These women all have questions for me, want answers I don’t have, and I want to escape to my own little kitchen. Just me and Cooper having dinner at the small four-seater table that’s only ever held that many people when Michelle and Liam come over.
All of this—the people, the eyes, the unasked questions—weighs on me.
Most of all, I feel guilty that the guys are all outside fighting. Bruce and Bobby were always crazy-close, and I don’t want to mess that up. Especially when I don’t even know what the hell’s going on between me and Bruce.
Today’s been an utter rollercoaster.
He’s serious, or at least I think he is. But I’m not looking for that. Not looking for another relationship, a marriage, a dad for Cooper. My heart begins to race and my mind starts whirling, anxiety coursing through me.
I set the table, but it takes me forever as I tap, tap, tap my fingers. I bend down to baby talk with Cindy Lou, mindlessly telling her how cute she is because she seems like the friendliest face in the room.
The back screen opens and a herd of elephants enters the kitchen, or well, a whole gaggle of cowboys, but it’s about the same noise level, reminding me again of the uncomfortable silence with the women. The guys all look a bit heated, from the August evening sun and whatever drama they just went through. Each and every one of them looks at me with a stony gaze, though, hard ice coursing through the lot of them. Even Bruce, though his anger seems to be directed at the guys instead of me.
All in all, I’m adrift in a sea of people who are sending me drastically varying messages of welcome. Or flat-out unwelcome in some cases. Brody and Bobby, I’m looking at you.
“Dinner’s ready if everyone’s cleaned up?” Mama Louise says, and there’s a grumbled chorus of ‘Yes, ma’am.’ before everyone sits.
I hang back, biting my lip and twisting my fingers, not knowing where to sit. Mama Louise guides Cooper to her side, and he goes happily, blissfully unaware of my impending freakout, thankfully.
“Al?” Bruce says quietly. I find him amid the sea of broad shoulders to see he’s gesturing to the chair beside him. I sit stiffly, primly perched on the edge. He leans over and whispers in my ear. “You okay? You look ready to run for the hills.”
I look sideways at him, hearing his earlier assessment that I’m skittish. Then, I wanted to argue that fact. Now, I’ll admit to myself that he might be right. But it’s for a damn good reason, the boy sitting at Mama Louise’s side. Running saved me and saved him once, and I’ll damn well do it again if it’d protect us from any more pain.
Or this awkward aggression that’s assaulting me from every angle right now.
“I’m fine,” I say quietly, not even believing the lie myself.
“Shit.” He sighs heavily.
“Language,” Mama Louise says, never taking her attention from filling Cooper’s plate with more food than he’d eat in a week of suppers.
Bruce dips his chin in apology, and I resort to daintily stuffing my face so I don’t have to say anything. Little bites so that I’m always feeding myself or chewing . . . just ignore me, I beg silently.
No such luck.
“How’re practices going?” Bobby asks me directly. Why does it seem like he’s accusing me of something with the barest small talk?
I swallow thickly, dabbing at my mouth with my napkin before laying it back in my lap. “Pretty good. Except for today,” I admit, looking at Bruce. “But it worked out, I guess.”
Cooper laughs, unaware that he’s saving my bacon by interjecting. “Uh, yeah, Mom. You told Johnathan off, which he totally deserved. And my arms and legs are still limp noodles from all the drills you made us do as punishment.” He holds up his arms in front of him, wiggling them loosely.
The group chuckles, and I realize he might be my only saving grace to get through this meal. Seems about right because he’s easily the best thing I’ve ever done.
He goes on to tell them about the circle high-five-pushup drill we did to wrap up practice, and Bruce nods approvingly, pointing at Cooper with a fork. “Sounds like practice ended better than it started. We’ll build on that.” Cooper nods like a bobblehead, and I think he’d agree with anything Bruce said. Hell, any of the boys would.
