Abby and Tyler both look at me, two sets of identical eyes asking for confirmation. Smiling, I give one swift nod of my head.
Tyler looks back at Abby. “It’s a deal. We’ll work on your homework together and you’ll be ready for the midterm before you know it.”
Hours later, both kids have retreated to their bedrooms. Theclick, clickof Jay’s video game controller can be heard as I head down the hallway, and the faint scent of nail polish wafts from Abby’sroom. Both of their doors are wide open, so I peek my head in Jay’s first.
He doesn’t have the newest gaming system. I had to go with the earlier model, but you’d never know by the way Jay loves that thing. His headset rests on his head, fingers pushing buttons with lightning speed on his controller. I look at the screen just in time to see his Fortnite character dodge a bullet from an opposing player, and a huge smile breaks out on his face. I move into his room to put his laundry away, glancing at his screen every few seconds to watch him play.
“I had fun today,” he says, eyes still glued to his game. “Austin’s cousin is cool.”
I close his T-shirt drawer and start on his socks. “Yeah? Who won? I hope it was you.”
His game ends and he sets his controller down, finally looking my way. “I won one round. He won the other. But it was close. We were tied at twenty but then he made the shot.”
“Did he talk much?”
Jay’s face scrunches up, like I have two heads or something. “We talked about ball. What else is there to talk about?”
Right, right. Stupid question. I ruffle his blond hair and he goes back to his video game.
“One more hour and it’s bedtime, Jay.”
He raises his hand in a thumbs up.
“Love you, Jaybird.”
“Love you, too, Mom.”
I’m not sure when I got the big demotion from Mama to the more mature Mom, but I guess this is part of him growing up. Abby’s been calling me Mom for years, and occasionally the dreadedmother. Sometimes when she’s feeling sassy, she’ll throw out a Josephine to get a rise out of me. The first time she did it, it pissed me off. I thought it was so disrespectful, but these days it just makes me laugh.
I cross the hall to her open doorway, tapping my fingernailslightly against the frame. She looks up from where she’s painting her nails a bright shade of pink.
“That’s a pretty color, Abs! Wanna paint mine next?”
Abby used to love painting my nails when she was little. I’d end up with the biggest mess, polish smeared all over my fingertips and the skin around my nail beds. Now that she’s gotten older, though, she’s actually pretty damn good. She nods, and I grab her desk chair, rolling it to the edge of her bed. She finishes up her nails, blows on them for a few seconds, then turns, taking my hand in hers.
Quietly, she applies the first coat on my right hand, her tongue poking out the side of her mouth in concentration, which has always made me smile. It’s the same expression she had when she was five, trying to stay within the boundaries of my nails, and it makes my heart ache in the best way.
And now, after being around Tyler a few times, I’m more and more aware of their similarities. Abby definitely got a few traits from me, but there’s a serious side to her that’s all him. Life was one big party for me at her age, but not Abby. She’s got this quiet introspection that I never had at thirteen.
With my first coat finished, we pause to let them dry.
“I heard what Jay was saying,” Abby says, eyes still on my nails, “about Austin’s cousin.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask, my tone neutral.
“He’s nice. I still think it’s weird how he’s hanging around here all of a sudden. But he’s nice,” she repeats. “And luckily, good at math.”
I nod, smiling softly. “He is nice. I agree, Abs.”
Abby takes my hand to start the second coat. She’s on my pinky when her words cause my heart to leap into my throat.
“I think he likes you.Likelikes you.”
All of a sudden, the room feels ten degrees warmer.
“What do you mean,likelikes me?”
Her eyes lift to mine, a knowing little smile tugging at thecorners of her mouth. “He looks at you the way Coach Johnson looks at Ms. Davis.”
