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“That would be best,” Joyce says, sniffing then sipping her tea. “I love you, but I’m not family, and—”
“You said what?” I interrupt her, amused to see her confusion.
“I… Uh… Oh! The L word?” she stammers, trying to hide her embarrassment.
“Yeah, that one,” I say, my heart filling with joy as I slowly torture her.
“Well… It’s true!” she says, daring me to question her. “What are you going to do about it?”
I pause for a moment, with a stupid smirk on my face, and my eyes deeply set on her.
“I think… I’m going to have to kiss you.” I bring her lips closer to mine, holding her by two fingers under her chin. In a whisper, I conclude, “And say that I love you too.”
“Oh!” Anna and Esther say together.
“I’m going to tell mom!” Esther says, perking up her nose.
“Why would your mother care, Esther?” I ask. “What’s so wrong about a couple kissing anyway?”
“It’simmoral!” Esther says, clearly parroting Karen.
“So, your mother and your father never kiss in front of you?” Joyce asks, looking concerned.
Esther just shakes her head, then shoves a cookie in her mouth, forgetting about the subject pretty quickly.
Joyce leans back and places a hand behind her head, looking at me with even more concern. “This might cost me my job.”
“No, it won’t,” I say, sipping my tea, very calm. “I’m her father’s boss. His wife fires you, I fire him. Simple as that.”
“Logan!” she interjects, horrified.
For the whole afternoon, we talk and watch the girls play, even joining in when the video games start.
When Karen arrives at six, Esther is so spent she can’t even think about yapping her mouth.
And then we head home, Joyce, Anna and I, and I can’t keep a smile off my face.
Chapter Twenty-Five
JOYCE
It’sthefirstmomentsof my morning, and my face is buried in the toilet again for the second week in a row.
This is getting serious, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep going on like this. I think it’s caused by the stress from the situation with Jane, but I don’t know how to solve my constant anxiety around that unless she forgives me.
And the likelihood of that happening is slim to none.
I finish with the latest row of hurling and flush the toilet before I slowly get up. I stop to brush my teeth, and mom softly knocks on the bathroom door, wondering what’s taking me so long.
“Joy?” she asks, concerned. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, mom!” With my mouth full of toothpaste, I say, “I’ll be out in a minute!”
“Well, don’t take too long. Your aunt is making breakfast,” she says, then leaves me alone.
I finish brushing my teeth then head to the living room, where Sophia is playing on her phone.
She raises her eyes to me and asks with thinly veiled concern, “Everything alright, J?”
