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Chapter Fourteen
BRIGGS
The sun burns throughthe front window, warming a path across the hard wood floors and stretching over my body like a blanket as I lie on floral sofa. One of those couches that no one is really ever allowed to sit on unless it’s Sunday and the Jerison’s were over for tea.
I hold a book overhead and listen to the sound of Millie’s pencil scratching along her papers. She taps the end on the table in a rhythmic pattern until I’m unable to focus on the words in my book.
“Do you need help?” I ask, resting the book on my chest.
“I’m working on fractions,” she says, crunching the pencil between her teeth.
“Okay, then I’m out. I suck at fractions.” I set my book down anyway, fully committed to figuring it out. I’ve been dedicated to her schooling since she was little, knowing that with our lifestyle it would be easy to let her slip for my own convenience. It was easy when she was in first and second grade, I could keep up with the curriculums and help her learn what she needed to know. But third grade started getting a little more cumbersome, and now in fourth she’s starting to learn things that I do not remember learning when I was nine. I actually have to prep and relearn things that she’s supposed to learn.
“Let’s go work on this outside okay?” I stretch my arms high over my head and she gathers her papers.
On the porch we settle into the chair and she tucks herself close to my side.
We work for a half hour, blocking out the noise of the day as the Rykers rip apart my mother’s greenhouse and reassemble it into a studio. Jet works alone for a bit until Xan shows up and greets us briefly before jumping into work alongside his brother.
“Mom,” Millie whines and tosses her pencil down. “They’re all wrong. I hate fractions.”
“Me too, kid. Me too.”
“Did someone say fractions?” Jet asks from the bottom of the steps, his arms full of broken wood.
“Yes. I said I hate them.” Millie grumbles and leans back against the bench with a huff.
Jet drops his stuff and jogs up the steps. He picks up Millie’s paper and glances at it for less than a second.
“Yeah this is all backwards. It’s not a math issue it’s a teacher issue.” Jet grins at me and I cross my arms in defense. “Your teacher sucks at math.”
“I do not,” I say, and his grin turns into a full laugh.
“Briggs, you do recall that the only reason you passed math was because I did your homework for you...”
Millie’s wide eyes prove she can’t believe her mother would do such a sneaky thing. Thankfully that’s all the rebellion she knows about me.
“Well fine, if you’re so amazing then you teach her.” I try to hold my pout but a smile cracks it.
He throws his gloves at me. “Done. We’ll trade for a bit. You go help my brother clear debris.”
My stomach rolls at his words and the sun heats my skin as I step out from under the shade of the porch. I leave Jet’s gloves on the steps because they’re massive and would never fit me. I’ll be like Mickey Mouse trying to pick up a dime.
Xan watches me approach and as I get closer all the little details about him come into focus like it’s the first time I’ve seen them. The broadness of his shoulders, the faint line of sweat where the soaked fabric stuck to his skin, the crinkle between his brow when he concentrates, the shadows across his face from the baseball cap. Mostly I notice how he notices me. The intensity with which he watches me, his clear blue eyes pulling me in. How could any woman resist being looked at like that? This woman. This woman had to resist being looked at like that.
“Hey, I’m supposed to help you out for a bit while Jet undoes the math damage I’ve done.”
Xan laughs, and my heart fills with light fluttering beats as history tumbles through me. That laugh.
“Shit, Briggs. You did not try to teach math, did you?”
“Why is everyone hating on my math skills,” I ask with a high pitch and hands firmly on my hips.
“Because you have no math skills,” he replies and then jumps backward in case I swat at him. It’s disorienting to be bantering with him like I used to. It’s so easy to be around him. So natural.
“Well, even so. I think I’m doing a damn fine job of raising my daughter, all things considered.” I pause, my body going cold even under the hot sun. Xan’s eyes cloud over and his gaze dropped to the pile of wood at his feet. I’ve been a single mom for so long that retraining myself to include Xan was going to be hard. My needs to become our, and that thought hiccups through me.
“Have you ever thought of putting her in public school?”
