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Right, there’s an eight-year-old at the table. And my parents. And Tom’s ex. How about we keep our hands to ourselves, Archie?
I manage to clear the lust haze from my brain and smile at Keegan. "Actually, it’s your dad. He’s been my favourite since I was about your age.”
Keegan nods. “Yeah, ‘cause he’s been playingforever.”
I glance sideways at Tom to find him smiling, eyes glinting with amusement at his son. I know his age and the fact that his career is winding down are sensitive issues for Tom, so I like seeing him smiling at Keegan’s comment rather than taking it to heart. Of course, it could just be because it’s Keegan and Tom seems to find joy in pretty much everything his son does, but I’m also sensing a bigger shift in attitude. It’s something I can’t quite place just yet, but it almost feels like a source of tension is easing within Tom.
I give his thigh a gentle squeeze of reassurance and feel his hand land on mine, squeezing back.
“Archie, love, do you want some gravy on your cottage pie?” Mum asks.
I once again tear my attention from my boyfriend.“Yeah, cheers,” I take the gravy boat and pour myself a generous amount. Gravy is fucking elite.?
“So Courtney, how did you and Tom meet?” Mum asks, cutting into her own pie.
“We were neighbours when he first got transferred to Croydon. I helped the poor Northern grump navigate London,” Courtney says, flashing Tom an affectionate smile before returning her attention to Mum. “What about you two?”
“We met in detention when we were in year seven,” Dad says, smiling at my mum. “Love at first sight. From then on, she’d knock on my door so I wasn’t late to school and I’d help her do her homework. Never had another detention.”
“We make a great team,” Mum says, looking soppily at Dad.
“We really do,” he says, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. “We got married at twenty-one and then Archie came a few years later.”
“You make it sound like I arrived in the post,” I say with a soft chuckle.
“I wish!” Mum exclaims, waving her fork in the air. “Twenty-eight hours of labour with that one. And no drugs! Have you ever been stabbed in the gut with a serrated knife, over and over again?” she asks the table at large. “Because that’s what it felt like!”
“Ah, but making him was a lot of fun,” Dad says, giving Mum a playful nudge.
I run a hand over my face, feeling my cheeks flame. I really opened myself up for that one.
“God, I can’t even imagine how awful that labour must have been,” Courtney says, offering my mum a sympathetic smile. Then she gestures at Keegan. “This one was a C-section and that was bad enough.”
“Why doesn’t Archie have a brother or sister?” Keegan asks.
“Keegs, mate, remember when we talked about boundaries and being respectful?” Tom gently reprimands his son. “Questions like that are intrusive. Do you know what that means?”
Keegan nods solemnly. “They go past boundaries.” Turning to Mum, he says. “I’m sorry, Jill.”
Mum smiles indulgently at him. “That’s alright, Keegan. As it happens, my boundaries are very small, so you can ask me questions without worrying about crossing them.”
I glance at Tom, whose lips are curved in a small smile.
“Trevor and I decided after Archie was born that he was enough for us,” Mum explains to Keegan. “Archie has plenty of cousins to play with.”
“I’m getting a new cousin soon. My aunty Lacey is having a baby,” Keegan says excitedly. “I’m going to teach it football, and it’s going to support Pride F.C even though my uncle Gary is a Man United fan. We need to save the baby from that.”
“Gary sounds like a confused soul,” Dad says, shaking his head in disappointment. “Oh, that reminds me of that joke. How does a Man United fan get home from a match?”
We all look at him blankly, not knowing the punchline
“The London Underground.”He starts laughing so hard he has a coughing fit.
Once we’re all done with our cottage pie, Mum announces that’ll be another half hour before pudding is ready, so I take the opportunity to show Tom my bedroom.
“Bloody hell,”Tom mutters as I let him into my room and he gets a look at the walls and ceiling, all plastered with posters of him. Eyes wide, he slowly walks around the room, examining the collection. “Jesus, some of these are ancient.”
I shrug. “Told you—I’ve had a crush on you for areallylong time. Does it freak you out to see all this?” I ask, biting my lip. He doesn’t look freaked out, but he doesn’t look happy either. I guess bewildered would be the best way to describe it.
