Her nose scrunches. “No, you wouldn’t, silly. Uncle Gway jumps on it with me all the time, and he’s way bigger than you.” She stretches her arms out wide again.
I hold in a laugh. If he heard what she just said, he probably would have something sassy to respond with. I plant my hands on my hips, pretending to think about it.
“Please! Please! Please!” she begs.
“Alright, but only because you asked so nicely.” I shuffle a few stuffies to the side and launch myself up with her. She grabs my hands, and we start hopping around like two schoolgirls at a slumber party.
I can’t lie, it's pretty fun. It makes me wonder if I will get to have kids of my own. I imagine a life settled down. The house of my dreams. The doting husband to come home to each night. Evie, of course, and maybe a dog added to the mix. A couple little ones running around, causing a ruckus.
Pure chaos.
The kind that reminds you you’re rich, but not in the typical fashion. Rich in love and laughs and experiences. Rich inlife.
We spin in circles for what feels like hours, her bright pink walls giving me a headache in the process, but I wouldn’t change a thing. Just when I think I can’t take another minute, someone knocks on the door.
Research Notes: cowboys make great homes.
maisie
. . .
SIXTEEN
Grayson clears his throat,crossing his hands behind his back. He stares at the two of us, and I can’t read the emotion on his face. “Dinner’s ready.”
Nova and I plop on our butts, and I scoot off the bed before grabbing her by the hips and lowering her gently. She immediately grabs my hand, rushing us past Grayson and back to the kitchen.
“Last one there’s a rotten egg,” she screams.
I’m starting to understand Grayson's warning now. As soon as we enter the kitchen, I’m hit with an array of smells that has me moaning under my breath.
“It smells delicious in here. I didn’t know you could cook.” I look over the table Grayson must have set while I was trying my best not to hack up my stomach in Nova’s room. There are three place settings at the small wooden table. One has a glittering unicorn place mat, so I take the one next to it.
“Yeah, someone had to cook for Laine, so I went to the local diner and worked a summer there, learning how to cook all the basics.”
“Mommy is thebestcook,” Nova chirps, a giant smile on her face. “And Uncle Gway makes the best pancakes.”
I understand her comment when I take in the smattering of food across the table. Every breakfast food imaginable is present, from pancakes, to meats, omelets, and is that… “Crepes?”
Grayson takes the setting opposite of me, nibbling his lip. “Yeah, it’s sort of our thing. Breakfast for dinner. Laine and I used to do it, and my pancakes are Nova's favorite, so it kind of just stuck.” He tucks his hands under the table like this is an awkward first date. “Sorry; I would have cooked something else if I knew you were coming.”
“Are you kidding? Pancakes are my favorite. Nova knows her shi—stuff.”
Nova giggles, winking at me while putting three large pancakes on her plate. It’s way more than she can eat, but there’s no doubt in my mind there’s plenty to go around. It looks like Grayson cooked for an entire neighborhood.
Did he do that for me, or is this how he always is with Nova? I push the thought aside, not wanting to go there. This is just dinner. He needed to eat. I needed to eat. We both just happen to be eating under the same roof…with the food his hands cooked…for me…like we are some little family.
Fuck, this is bad.
My plate is stacked full of every item he cooked. I’m definitely eating with my eyes right now and not my stomach, but I would feel bad letting so much food go untouched.
When you hop through foster families, you tend to grab as much food as possible when it’s available. Lan and I learned quickly. It seems a little bit of that has stuck.
We eat in silence, neither me nor Grayson partaking in any small talk. What would we even say? He looks like he wants to kill the pancake on his plate, spearing it with his fork like it personally wronged him. It makes me want to eat as fast as possible so I can get out of his bubble. The least he could do is make small talk for Nova’s sake. I’m starting to wonder if he only said yes to mebecauseof Nova.
Nova, the little ham, decides to tell us jokes for the next tenminutes between bites. I think most of her food ends up on the table rather than down her throat. “What did the unicorn say when it fell? I’ve fallen, and I can’t giddy up!” She doesn’t even pause to let us try and guess, too excited to tell us the answer before she’s belly laughing with a mouthful of food.
My heart twinges, watching this sweet little girl so full of joy, until I look over at Mr. Grinch in the corner, sulking. What is his problem? Besides announcing dinner, he hasn’t said two words. Sure, he’s laughed at Nova’s jokes, but eye contact? He hasn’t looked my way since we started eating.
