Frog by Mary Calmes (ebook reader android TXT) 📕

point turn to try to get out of the parking stall without totaling the Honda Civic beside me. The boys were highly amused, cheered me on, and did the wave when I was done.

I told them all to shut their pieholes.

They all dissolved into throaty kid laughter that it was impossible not to join in on. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to fall as much in love with them as I already was with their uncle.

CAROLYN called, sorry that she was going to be late and worried, from the hesitancy in her tone, that I was going to be mad. I had no inclination to be upset—I was fine. When she got there at seven thirty, everyone was fed, showered, and in their pajamas for the ride home. She took one look at them all sprawled out on the sectional, Pip watching something called Phineas and Ferb, Micah drawing in his sketchpad, and Tristan playing Plants versus Zombies on his Nintendo DS, and burst into tears.

I grabbed her tight and squeezed her until she stopped, ending up with her head on my chest, arms wrapped around my back, and leaning heavily.

The boys were all looking at us, curious as to the trouble.

“Mama’s just tired,” I told them.

One by one they got off the couch: first Pip, then Tristan, and finally Micah. She went to her knees and got a kiss and hug from each one, plus a drawing from Micah.

“Oh, baby, I love it,” she told him, wiping at her eyes with her fingers, pointing at the tree with the tire swing and then me with my huge noggin. “Who’s this?”

“Weber,” he told her and smiled.

She froze.

I flicked her on the back of the head to make her voice work.

“O-oh,” she stammered, “well, it looks just like him.”

He nodded and left us.

Slowly, like she was moving through molasses, she rose and turned to face me. Her eyes were open big, her mouth made her look like a fish, and her color was all wrong, sort of gray.

“Doctor Erin,” I began telling her, “said that he was fixin’ to talk soon, so you should start hearin’ some words sprinkled in with his nods and such.”

She was just staring at me.

“But you shouldn’t make it a big deal or else he’ll be thinkin’ he’s different, and he ain’t. So just, when he talks to you, talk back.”

Her indrawn breath was thready.

“That’s what the doctor said.”

Those eyes of hers, much like her brother’s, never left my face.

“Say yes, I heard you, Weber.”

“Yes, I heard you, Weber.”

I grunted.

“One fucking day,” she said breathlessly.

The swearing was new. “Pardon?”

“They were with you one fucking day, and Micah is feeling so grounded that he wants to start talking again, and all three of them look happy and content like I haven’t seen them in months.”

I shrugged. “I dunno. Apparently, I’m a mountain.”

“What?”

“Never mind.” I grinned at her, giving her a pat on the arm. “Are you hungry? We made stroganoff.”

“I get dinner too?”

I cupped her cheek before walking into the kitchen to get the plate I had made for her out of the refrigerator and put it in the microwave.

“Weber.”

I looked over my shoulder at her.

“You take better care of my boys than my husband did, and you care more about me.”

“That’s real sad,” I assured her. “Maybe the next man you find should be sweet on all y’all. It’s just a thought.”

She swallowed hard. “Tomorrow I’m supposed to go to a Christmas open house at my boss’s house. We’re supposed to bring our children, and some people bring their nannies instead of their spouses. Would you consider going with me?”

“Surely.” I smiled at her. “I’d love to be the nanny.”

“I would love it too. Permanently.”

And hours later as I sat alone on the couch, watching Sports Center but mostly thinking, I wondered what I could and couldn’t do.

I had always made choices based a lot on what other people thought. My mother died and then my father and finally my brother. Those were the people who would have simply accepted whatever I decided to do or be with unconditional love and support, and without them, I had no touchstone, no one I trusted. Except Cyrus.

I had faith in Cy, but he loved the cowboy, the excitement of that life, of me riding off into the sunset and pining for me when I was gone. If I was there, underfoot, how could that work?

What the hell was I going to do?

The key turned in the lock of the front door and he was there, rushing through it, eyes sweeping the room before they fell on me.

“Hey.” I smiled over at him. “How was the party?”

He looked incredible in his tuxedo as he crossed the floor to me, smiling wide, his bottom lip trembling.

“What’s with you?” I asked him as he reached me, leaning down close as I slid my hand up his arm.

“I missed you,” he whispered as his lips met mine.

I lifted so our mouths fit better and eased him down beside me, deepening the kiss, letting my tongue take the tour before tangling with his.

He moaned and tried to shift against me as I pulled back.

“What are—”

“Go change. That tuxedo costs more than what I got in the world, Doctor Benning.”

He rose quickly, striding from the room, and I was left again to wonder what I could really do. What made a man a man? Who got to judge?

When I heard him behind me, I turned and asked if he was hungry.

“Why?” He smiled at me. “Is there actually stroganoff left?”

“No.” I smiled back. “Your sister was hungry. She ate her plate and yours.”

“Nice.” He groaned, walking over to me dressed now in sweats, socks, a T-shirt, and a hoodie. “So you gonna cook for me now?”

“Sure,” I said, starting to get up.

“I’m kidding.” He grinned at me, flopping down, stretched out close, legs out in front of him.

“Put your foot up here.”

He didn’t hesitate. He turned, lay down, shoved a pillow behind