Arm porn if I've ever seen it.
"Hey," I say. "I thought you had other plans."
He waves a hand to indicate Beck's house. "I do."
I give him a small smile. "Are we... cool?"
He arches a brow. "I'd say so. Wouldn't you, Freckles?"
He tugs me toward the house as I scowl at him.
"None of that while we're here. Beck will lose it."
"Just getting it out of my system," he teases. Beck's front door swings open before I can say a word.
"Mollie!" Rosie runs out the front door at full steam. I bend down and catch her, groaning a bit as I pick her up.
"Oh my goodness." I smother her with kisses. “Are you feeling better, sweetpea?”
She nods. “Yeah. Lots.”
“It’s so good to see you.” I hug her tightly. Seeing my niece always brings me an absurd amount of joy. She’s growing up so fast, changing like a shapeshifter. Every time I see her, she’s a slightly different version, never to be the same girl again.
If I think about it too long, it’ll make me cry.
"Are you back at school?”
“Yes!” Rosie beams at me and wraps her arms around my neck. “I got to make handprints with my class.”
When she presses her hands against my skin, I feel something decidedly sticky. "Monkey, did you wash your hands?"
Thorne laughs as he looks on. "She definitely didn't. What is that, jelly?"
"It's blackberry jam," Beck says from the stoop, waving for us to come inside. "Somebody didn't clean up like I told them to after having a pre-dinner snack."
"That's okay." I bounce Rosie on my hip. "We can go to the bathroom and wash up together."
Beck follows us down the hallway, looking fairly serious. He's dressed in one of his dark suits, a sight I don't see in the summer too much.
"I know I said we would hang out, but I actually have to go meet my divorce attorney tonight."
I set Rosie down and twist the faucet on, feeling the temperature for her before I squirt some hand soap on her hands.
"Divorce attorney?" I switch to pig Latin, to keep Rosie in the dark. "Ay-way?"
Beck doesn't miss a beat. "Ex-may ants-way ustody-cay."
My eyes widen. "She does?"
"Yeah." He looks at Rosie, kneeling. "Hey, Butterbean. Auntie Mollie and Uncle Alex are going to feed you dinner tonight, and read you a book before bed. You okay with that?"
"Yes!" Rosie screams, making me flinch. "Come on! Come see."
I give Beck a sympathetic glance as I let Rosie tow me into the living room, where her art studio is splayed out. There has to be two thousand crayons, colored pencils, charcoals, and fresh tubs of various colors ofpaint in here. Beck gives Thorne some directions for ordering dinner, kisses Rosie, and then vamooses.
Thorne walks over to where Rosie has sprawled on the floor, coloring a picture that honestly looks like a straight up scribble. "That’s rain," she tells me.
"Ah." I grab a blank piece of paper and start sketching a figure skater, occasionally looking over Rosie's shoulder. "What's that?" I ask when she starts on a new page.
