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“Of course, I do. And no, he’s great.”
“All I am saying is, maybe you are too hard on yourself. Maybe you should try.”
“Yeah, and maybe you should have ten kids and get married.”
“Fuck no.” He snorts and rises from his seat.
“Exactly.”
“You and I are built differently, Joey. I’m obviously the more fucked-up one. While I wear that badge with honor, you aren’t there yet. But one day, you very well may be.”
* * *
“I want to have a girls’night, but this time we stay inside and chill,” Sailor says at our weekly dinner. Adora came with my mother this time.
Keir sits silently at the end of the table.
“We have these family dinners, but us girls need a break too, with everything we deal with. So let’s make it a monthly thing.”
“Can I bring Merci?” Chanel asks.
“Yes, of course,” Sailor answers, smiling.
Adora stays quiet next to me.
“Adora?” I look at her to see her looking down.
“I’m not really a part of the family anymore. Actually, I’m not even sure why I’m here,” she says quietly, moving her food around on her plate with her fork.
“Well, you’re here because you don’t have a bullet in your brain for fucking us over.”
“Lucas Rossi, watch your tone,” my mother chides him.
He smiles at her and apologizes.
“You’re here because we think of you as family,” Sailor adds. “Our circle is small, and you are a part of it. Right, Joey?” Sailor looks at me, her brows raised, waiting for me to say something.
“You are always welcome,” I tell Adora.
She simply nods her head as Piper starts talking about something else.
“I think it’s best I go,” Adora says, getting up. “I don’t feel well.”
The table falls silent as she heads into the kitchen where the kids are sitting with Sailor’s nanny. She walks out, holding Jerome’s hand.
“Let me take you home,” I offer, standing and moving around the table to meet them.
“No, no, it’s fine. I just need rest.” Her eyes look heavy, and her smile is gone, not even peeking out for her son. I reach up and touch her forehead to check for a fever, and she swats my hand away. “I’ll be fine. Go and enjoy your dinner.”
But I don’t listen.
I follow her to her car and take the keys from her. “Let me drive you. You don’t look well.”
I can tell she wants to argue with me, but she doesn’t. Instead, she nods and puts Jerome in the back. When she’s settled in the passenger seat, she rests her head back and closes her eyes. She’s snoring softly before I even pull away.
Shit, that did not take long.
“Ice cream,” Jerome says from the back, making me smile.
