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“I know that.”
“Friends ask for help.”
Leo didn’t reply. He couldn’t. He wasn’t made that way. He’d been raised in a family of farmers, which meant he’d lived his entire life taking care of his own. If he planted a bed of vegetables, they were his to care for, to water, to nurture, to harvest. Responsibility had been drilled into his head from the cradle.
When he’d discovered Denise was pregnant with Vince, he’d been determined to do the right thing. He’d made that beautiful baby with her, and there had never been a question that he wouldn’t give their son whatever he needed to live and thrive. He and Denise had come up with a shared custody arrangement with the help of their parents, and the night Vince was born had been the happiest of his whole damn life.
From the night of graduation until Denise passed, he’d worked long hours and had even picked up some extra handyman jobs so that he could provide child support for Vince and afford to live on his own without being beholden to his parents for anything.
That’s just the way he was made. Asking for help felt like the equivalent to admitting defeat.
“I didn’t want to impose,” he said at last.
Yvonne rolled her eyes like he was the world’s biggest idiot. “Sounds like Vince isn’t the only one who needs a good kick in the rear. Lucky for you, I’m here and very, very wise. I can help you.”
He was actually able to grin at her joke, thanks to his now full stomach. “I’m doing just fine.”
Of course those words would have held more weight if she wasn’t standing in the middle of a fucking disaster zone.
“Mmmhmm,” she hummed. “I can see that. Actually, you and Ryder are usually able to stay on top of stuff. I’ve never seen things this bad. What’s been going on?” she asked as she started filling the sink with hot water and dish detergent.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said.
Yvonne ignored him, snapping her fingers to her thumb in classic “shut your trap” style.
He knew her well enough to know he wouldn’t win this argument, so Leo picked up a dishcloth and started wiping up the counters and kitchen table. “Ryder got a promotion at work.”
“Darcy told me. I think that’s great. I know it’s the job he’s been working his ass off for.”
Leo knew the same thing, which was why he felt guilty for being pissed off about being left holding the bag. “It’s terrific, and he deserves it. Nobody works harder than him.”
Yvonne glanced over her shoulder at him, and he could see from her expression he hadn’t tempered his tone enough. “That’s debatable. You probably give him a run for his money. Does this promotion mean longer hours?”
Leo nodded. “And he’s had to go out of town quite a bit lately for training.”
“I see.”
“And my dad pulled a muscle in his back, and my brother can’t do all the farm work on his own, something he’s been passive aggressively letting me know for a week now. I’ve taken the boys out there a few hours each day, all of us pitching in when we can, but prodding the boys to work is harder than doing the damn job myself. Plus, Clint takes karate on Tuesday nights, and Vince’s little league games are eating up three nights a week.”
“Damn. It’s critical mass here.” She gave him a quick wink that told him she was teasing, but he couldn’t help but hate the way he was coming across in this conversation.
“I’m not complaining,” he insisted. “I’m just saying I’m busy.”
“I didn’t hear any complaining. Grab that towel and help me dry the dishes,” she said. For the next ten minutes, she washed as he dried, and then they put everything away. And just like that, she’d somehow managed to clean his dining room and his kitchen.
“Things are always easier with help,” she said when they were done.
“Vonnie!” Vince called from the bedroom. “We’re finished. Can we have our cookies now?”
The two of them went to the boys’ bedroom and Leo watched as Yvonne—true to her word—checked Vince’s cleaning, helping him make his bed properly. Then showing Clint how to fold the shirts he’d merely stuffed in his dresser drawer.
The bedroom looked better than it had in years. Literally years. Leo was tempted to take a picture of it to text to Ryder, who wouldn’t believe it. Instead, they all returned to the dining room and Yvonne pulled out a huge tub of cookies. Once again, he and the boys plowed through them, helping themselves to three giant cookies each, along with milk.
Vince wasn’t the only one who was sick of pizza.
“I swear you all act like you haven’t eaten in a month.”
“All we ever have is pizza,” Vince said, using that sullen tween tone that drove Leo crazy.
