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“By the way, Josiah,” Joel took the folder and set it on the coffee table, “did you find them?”
“Find what?”
“The tools to fix your attitude.”
“Joel, you’re not being fair. All I wanted—”
“Was to do what? Walk into this room and eat this food because Iknowyou’re hungry, and you and your brother love spaghetti and meatballs? Which is why I made it in the first place? Siah, don’t play with me. Get down here, and fix your attitude on the way, my friend.”
Josiah flopped down in front of his plate, and Joel kept an eye on him out of the corner of his eye. Josiah could instantly adopt a sour mood, but food was his kryptonite.
Obviously trying to hold on to his reluctance, Josiah picked up his fork, stabbed at his food, and shoved the fork into his mouth. Not even halfway through the meal, Josiah moved closer until their sides touched.
“Joel, I’m sorry I had an attitude,” Josiah whispered. “I didn’t mean to be mean to you.”
The pressure in the room leveled off.
Joel gave him a tight hug. “Hey, it happens. It’s part of being human. Sometimes we’re happy, and other times, we’re grumpy. But it takes a big man to apologize. I’m proud of you, and you’re forgiven.”
Josiah held up a fist, and he crashed his against it. Then they made explosion sounds and wiggled their fingers like the characters Hiro and Baymax fromBig Hero 6,one of Josiah’s earlier favorite movies beforeTrollscame along.
Not long after, the boys fell asleep.
As he didn’t want to send them to bed without seeing Ayesha, he let them sleep on the blankets while he tidied up. It didn’t matter how tired he was; Ayesha did this every day by herself. There was no way in hell he was letting her come home to a dirty house.
“Joel?” Josiah sat up, rubbing at his eyes. “Where are you going? Are you leaving?”
“No, I’m not leaving,” he said. “I’m going to clean up.”
“Can I help?”
“Are you sure you’re not too tired?”
Josiah shook his head. “No, I want to help.”
“Then I’d love your help, but before you do that, can you cover your brother a little more with that blanket?”
* * *
In no time, the kitchen sparkled, and because of how quickly they finished, he and Josiah started a load of laundry. Realistically, Ayesha didn’t have to put so much on herself as she could hire a housekeeper to take care of the menial chores, but something told him hiring help would come with guilt.
And gossip.
Ayesha wasn’t immune to either.
It was one of the things he liked most about her, that humanness. That imperfection. She wouldn’t admit it, but she didn’t have to—he could see how important it was for Curtis’ family to see her as a competent mother.
Outside of the boys, they were her last link to him. Without Curtis to challenge their negative views, she absorbed every snide word they tossed her way until she convinced herself that Curtis would have been equally disappointed in how she handled the boys.
But he saw her influence in the way Josiah and Theo treated others, as well as how they treated each other. Naturally, as siblings, they would butt heads from time to time, but they loved one another. Theylovedtheir mother. Love like that wasn’t innate; they mimicked what Ayesha showed them daily.
Had it been up to him, she would leave Maui. For people who claimed to love Curtis, it was reprehensible the way they treated the mother of his children. His widow. The love of his life. If they weren’t interested in changing, then they could all fuck off. The team was also Curtis’ family. They could be all the family Ayesha needed.
Josiah entered the laundry room where he stood sorting clothes, absentmindedly staring at a tall jar of wool balls, wondering how soon was too soon to text Ayesha again to see how things were going at work.
“I found it!” Josiah raised a white bottle with a green cap. “You have to use this detergent for me and Theo. The other one makes us itchy.”
Joel tossed in a load, starting with the boys’ clothes, and poured the detergent into the compartment at the front of the washing machine.
