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“Yes.” Alex held up a finger. “But now she has a need for speed.”
We all laughed, George hardest of all, while Ruby narrowed her eyes at me.
“I challenge you to a race! You and me. We’ll see who the real champion is.”
“Certainly,” I agreed. “Did you ask the boys if I had to cheat to win?”
“Low blow!” she protested. “Vander, tell her I won fair and square.”
“Sorry, Ruby-mine. No can do.”
Their joviality was forced but had the desired affect on the boys.
“I’ll still race you, Ruby. Maybe we can ask Amber, too.”
Ruby laughed. “She’d be ruthless.”
“Indeed.” I grinned at her. It’s those quiet ones you have to watch.
By the time I dropped the boys off home, George had regained his equilibrium, but I had not.
I had broken one of my cardinal rules. Not just one. Three.
First, I was alone behind a closed door with one of the boys.
Second, I was not dressed appropriately in their presence because I was not wearing a bra under my pajamas.
And third, I fell asleep while alone in my fucking bed with him. It was paramount that I remain vigilant. Falling asleep meant letting down my guard. What if I lost control? I fucking knew I would never touch any of them, but I could not tolerate the distress wrought by those thoughts. That’s what the rules guarded against.
Did you touch him while you slept?
No.
Are you sure? Maybe you rubbed up on him thinking he was Lucky?
I did tend to do that in bed with Lucky, backing up until my booty nestled into the cradle of his groin. Did I do that with George? The thought horrified me.
All day long I’d searched George’s face and manner for hints or clues that I might have down something untoward. There were none that I could discern. He smiled at me and seemed much more relaxed. But what kind of barometer did he have? His mother was a fucking monster.
If anything happened, he wouldn’t tell anyone. He was ready to let his mother run roughshod over him. He was too vulnerable. Oh, God! How did I let this happen?
I should have taken him out to the kitchen.
Lucky called and picked up on my mood immediately. I confided in him about what happened with George’s mom but couldn’t bring myself to tell him about the OCD thoughts.
“Some people should not have children,” I murmured into the phone.
“Yes, I agree,” he replied firmly. “But the world would be a far bleaker place without you in it. I can easily say the same thing about George. He’s a great kid.”
“True. We’ll just have to love him harder.”
“That’s it, baby.”
“You understand about the broken kids.”
“My classes are full of them.” He sighed. “There’s only so much you can do. George is surrounded by good people. I have to believe he’ll be okay.”
Grateful that he wasn’t pushing me about moving in, I remembered something else I was thankful for.
