Mine tipped back.
He kicked the door closed with his foot.
And it was on.
My phone buzzing with a call took my mind off my memories, thankfully.
When I looked at the screen, I was less thankful.
Brady.
I had one kid down (Harmony, and by “down” I meant she’d had her bottle and was asleep), and two kids Dream had informed me she was going to read to before bedtime, but they were in their PJs, using the last dregs of energy to bang on stuff, pick it up and toddle around with it only to drop it, and try to get the very minimal things lying around that they weren’t allowed to have (that last was their favorite activity).
I needed to stop being a wuss, talk to Brady, admit we’d effed up and move on so he could ask Gemma out and I could stop being my own version of Cheyenne, not letting go of a guy who let me go.
Bonus, Dream would be home soon, so I had an excuse for not being able to talk long.
I offered Feather an old remote Dad gave Dream for the kids to play with, she turned her nose up at it, reached for the real remote she could not have (my niece was showing early signs of genius, she was already multi-tasking), all while Dusk shouted “Mote! Mote!” as I took Brady’s call.
“Hey, Brady.”
“You good?” he asked.
He was really such a nice guy.
“Yeah.”
“The way you left the hospital, Loon…” He didn’t finish that.
“It was just…the same old thing,” I explained lamely.
“We need to talk.”
“We’re talking, but I have to warn you, I don’t have a lot of time. I’m babysitting for Dream, and she’s going to be back soon. I popped by Knox’s on the way here, and I need to go to the grocery store and pop back on the way back home.”
“You popped by Knox’s?”
“I had a few things to say about him going into that sitch by himself.”
“Damn straight,” he muttered.
“Then I saw that Cap dropped him off without any creature comforts so I’m sorting that out for him.”
He was silent.
“Brady?” I called.
“Again, we need to talk, babe.”
“And we’re talking, aren’t we?”
“Doesn’t sound like you have a lot of time, or a lot of attention,”—yes, Dusk was still shouting “Mote! Mote!”—“and we need both.”
Fantastic.
“Can you do dinner tomorrow?” I queried.
“Sure.”
