She stabbed the chopping board. Rounding the kitchen island, I grabbed her hand.
“Lulu, kids get bullied, even the bullies get bullied. Alaric cared more about you than he did them—”
“Dorian, he has never said more than a few words to me about this, and I’ve never once pushed him. Then I go into his room, and I hear his voice, it’s glorious to me. He sounds so amazing, and the fact that some rich little brats make him ashamed of himself is driving me insane. You heard him. He was so good. My baby was talking.”
“He was.” I placed my hands on her shoulders. “He blew my mind. Alaric is smart and kind and everything you want in a little boy. Don’t worry. You’ve raised an amazing human being. So, breathe.”
She took a big intake of air, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“Exhale.”
She released slowly.
“Good, now what smells so good?”
She pointed to her soup and opened the lid. She poured the carrots in, stirring them around. Using the spoon, she offered me a taste, she blew on it before lifting it to my lips. I opened my mouth, grinned, and nodded my head ‘yes.’
“That’s so good. That’s spinach soup?” I licked my lips. Along with the spinach was rice and tomatoes. I moved around her to get more, but she smacked my hand.
“Italian orzo spinach soup to be exact, and it’s not done yet.”
“Fine, tempt me with your food and then let me starve.”
“Drama queen.”
“Says the woman who took out her frustration on carrots and my chopping board.” I gestured to a knife mark.
“Hey!” She quickly put a hand over it. “I was having a mother bear moment. I’m fine now.”
“A mother bear moment?”
“When you feel like your child is in danger, you become a little—”
“Scary?”
“You’re going to have them too. The moment you feel he’s being hurt, you will jump in right away, like you did with—”
“Don’t say his name.” I didn’t want to think about it.
“I want to thank you.”
“You say thank you too much.”
“Not possible.”
I stared at her for the longest time before brushing cake mix off her face. But even when it was all off, I couldn’t let go of her. Her skin was so soft. Her eyes stared into my mine, and I brushed her lip with my thumb.
Beep.
A timer went off, and I dropped my hand and stepped back.
“Who taught you to cook?”
“One of my foster mothers loved the Food Network. She fell asleep in front of it all the time.” She turned off the stove and moved the pot to another burner.
“How many foster parents did you have?”
“Quite a few. I moved from group home to group home. I don’t know what happened to my real parents. My mother left me at a fire station with my first name pinned to a sweater. I think it must have been really hard for her. She cared enough to give me a name, but she couldn’t keep me. Thinking of how hard it would be for me to let go of Alaric, I can’t imagine what she went through. If I ever met her, I would tell her I was fine, then and now.” She reached for the plates in the cabinet, but I got them for her.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. It must have been hard being moved around as a child.”
She dished out the food. “It was difficult, but I was never treated badly. My foster parents kept us safe, warm, and fed. I was moved only when the house got too full or one of my foster parents couldn’t watch so many kids anymore. One of them even gave me permission to work in a restaurant when I was fourteen. You’re looking at the best dishwasher Flounder’s has ever seen.”
“You’ve been working since you were fourteen?”
“Yes, every day after school.”
When I was fourteen, I was lounging on yachts or going to basketball games. I don’t remember working until after my father passed away.
“You okay? I promise my childhood isn’t some sad, depressing story. I have a lot of good memories and grew up with a lot of good kids. It’s also why I love cooking. No matter what our backstory was, no matter our issue, we could all get together and eat happily.”
“I’m sort of jealous.” I took the filled plates from her hands. “Are we eating in the dining room?”
“Sure, can you get Alaric? I’ll put the cupcakes in the freezer to cool down.”
Part of me was still in awe at how happy and warm she was after everything she’d been through in her life.
Luella was a special type of woman.
LUELLA
“So good.” Alaric gave me his famous thumbs-up before stuffing his face. Dorian wasn’t any better, he ate just as fast.
“I’m so glad you all like it,” I signed.
“The cook may have reason to worry.” Dorian looked at me—he kept looking at me, and I wished he would stop because he had no idea how it made me feel. When he touched my face, I fought the urge to kiss him, to touch him back.
“Why aren’t you eating?” Alaric asked.
“I’m eating, I’m eating,” I grabbed my spoon.
Alaric and Dorian talked about everything and I mostly listened, only joining in every once in a while. Alaric wanted to do it all. Golf, tennis, video games, and movies. Dorian said yes to them all. He didn’t seem bored or bothered by how fast Alaric was signing. He only looked to me when he needed translation.
After dinner, I stood to clear the plates and stopped Dorian when he got up to help me. “Sit. You guys finish talking. I’m going to get the cupcakes.”
“Yes.” Alaric grinned.
In the kitchen, Russell, sleeves rolled up, was already cleaning up.
“Russell, I’ve got it, you don’t have to—”
“Please, I’m the help, after all.” He took the plates from me.
“You are more than the help to Dorian. You’re the Alfred to his Batman.”
“How did you know?”
We both laughed.
“What were Dorian and Donovan like as children?” If anyone knew, it was him.
“Troublemakers. Actually, Dorian was more of a troublemaker, and Donovan followed along.”
“No way.”
He nodded, and I took the cup he’d finished washing to dry it. “Dorian wanted attention, and he would do anything to get it. It was only after their mother passed that Dorian became more somber and Donovan the opposite. Dorian is now serious about family and the company. Donovan decided this life was too suffocating. I think it was the first time they ever felt estranged from each other.”
“It must be hard not to have each other anymore.” And their relationship didn’t get better until it was too late.
“I stayed in touch with Donovan after he left. He was really excited when he told me he’d met someone with pretty hazel eyes.” He carefully avoided looking at me as he said that.
“You know?”
He nodded.
“And you’re okay with Dorian claiming Alaric?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? Alaric needs a father, and like I said, it’s good to hear laughter in this house again. Dorian—”
Dorian stepped into the kitchen. “I think that’s enough, Russell.”
“It’s my fault. I kept asking him questions,” I said, hoping not to get Russell in trouble.
The old man snickered. “Don’t worry. I didn’t show her the Batcave.”
I grinned, and Dorian looked at us, puzzled. “The Batcave?”
“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” I changed the subject. “Is Alaric okay?”
“No, because someone forgot the cupcakes to gossip about me.” He moved to the fridge.
“Oh yeah… Hey!” I said as he ate one whole, the icing on his lips.
“Yep, definitely don’t need a chef.” He took another bite. “Russell, tell—”
I put a hand over his mouth. “Russell, please tell the chef thank you for allowing me the use of his kitchen.”
“The kitchen belongs to whoever cooks in it.”
He reached around me for the cupcakes, a grin on his face. Laughing, I pushed him back slightly but one of his arms wrapped around me and held me close.
Alaric came in. “Hey.”
“Grab the cupcakes,” Dorian said, holding me prisoner. Alaric jumped up and grabbed the tray from me and made a run for it. Dorian spun me around a few times.
“He’s going to have a cavity by the end of the week.”
“Cavities are proof of a well-spent childhood. Plus, one week of indulgence never hurt anyone. Come on, it’s only right you get to eat some too.”
He took my hand, and we ran after Alaric. This moment was so simple, and yet I never wanted it to end.
DORIAN
Luella, Alaric, and Hercules curled up on the blanket on the beach. I brushed the hair from his eyes and placed a hand on her cheek.
She laid back down, raising her arms and pretending to hold a gun.
“What are you doing?”
“I want a shooting star to make a wish on, and since none are out tonight, I’m taking matters into my own hands.” She closed one eye and fired. Dropping her hands, she made a wish.
I snickered. “Does that really work?”
“It takes time, but yes. My son is happy, and I’m happy. It works.”
Lying down beside her, I raised my hands and made a wish.
13
Ordinarily Extraordinary
DORIAN
I opened my door to go for a run and there stood Luella and Alaric, dressed in jeans and T-shirts with giant smiles on their faces. I took a step back into my room. “What?”
“Happy birthday,” they yelled, popping streamers at me. Alaric ran over, holding up a card for me to see, the words happy b-day Dad written in giant yellow letters. It took me much longer than it should have to process this.
The last time I’d celebrated my birthday was…ten years ago?
Luella was holding a blueberry muffin with a candle on top of it. “We wanted to surprise you, if you’re busy—”
“No.” I blew out the candle. “I’m not busy, thank you.”
“We planned everything,” Luella translated for Alaric, though I’d understood that one.
“Really? What’s the plan?” I took a bite of the muffin. “Did you make this?”
“Yeah, you like it?”
I stuffed the rest of it in my mouth, and Alaric laughed as I picked him up. “Are you laughing at me?”
He nodded. “You are the muffin monster.”
“Says the boy who had two,” Luella signed.
“You had three, Mommy.”
“Three?” I looked at her. “The real monster here is you.”
“You ratted out your mom?” She gasped before tickling him. I moved him out of her reach, trying to protect him.
“Mommy.” Alaric giggled.
“Spare the boy,” I said to her.
“Fine, but only because we have so much to do today,” she said.
“What are we doing?” I asked.
She grinned. “I remembered how you were afraid of the food truck—”
“I was not afraid, just cautious,” I cut in.
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Cautious. For your birthday, we are going to spend the day doing normal everyday fun things.”
“What is normal?”
“It’s a surprise,” Alaric said as I put him down.
“Are you ready to go?”
“Give me a second to get out of my running clothes—”
“Nope. You’re fine like this.” She took one arm, and Alaric took the other, pulling me out of my bedroom. “We are expanding your horizons.”
“And here I thought I was well versed in the world,” I muttered.
Finnick was waiting, dressed in a suit.
Luella hopped—yes, hopped—right in front of him. “You can take the day off.”
“Ma’am, wherever it is, I can take you there,” he told her.
“That’s not going to work. I want to take the king out of the castle so he can see the world, he can’t do that being driven around by you.”
“I’m sorry, did you call me the ‘king’?” I asked, wondering if she’d lost her mind. “Besides, Finnick should be around just in case…for safety.”
She sighed. “Finnick, you were in the military, right?”
He nodded once.
“So that means you could follow us without us noticing. You can still protect us.”
He looked at me, and I nodded. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the keys.
“I’ve already arranged a ride for today.” She opened the front door. Russell stood next to a very old blue Ford pickup truck.
“Why is that in front of my house?”
She ignored me and walked up to Russell, who handed her the keys. “Thank you for letting me borrow this. I swear to bring it back in one piece.”
“Enjoy your day, Ms. Luella. Please take pictures of his reactions for me.”
“Of course.”
“My reactions?” Where were we going? Mars?
I said to Russell, “You aren’t going to tell me what’s going on?”
“And come under the wrath of Ms. Luella? Surely you can see she is a woman on a mission.”
“Me too,” Alaric said loudly. “Mommy and I are on a mission together.”
Luella smirked at me, sharing a high-five with them. She opened the door. “After you, gentlemen.”
“Just so you know, Alfred would never conspire against Batman,” I said to Russell, who laughed.
“Good thing I’m not Alfred and you’re not Batman. Besides, you’re already having fun. Enjoy your day.” He walked back toward the house.
I couldn’t deny I was interested to see what had her all excited and liked that she had planned it out for me.
We got into the truck, Alaric in the middle.
“You know how to drive a stick?” I asked her.
“Doesn’t everyone? I could teach you if you would like.”
“I used to race. I know how.” I didn’t know many women who drove them anymore. She did look disappointed though. I should have said ‘no’, it would have been interesting.
“Teach me,” Alaric signed.
“When your feet can reach the pedals.” She ruffled his hair.
Starting the engine, it sounded like an old man wheezing and gasping for air at first, and then became a soft humming sound. She drove around the water fountain and out the front gate.
“Open the glove compartment,” she said, and turned on the radio loudly.
Three pairs of sunglasses were inside. Alaric put his on and leaned back.
“When did you plan this?” I handed her the rose-colored pair before putting on my own.
“Just enjoy it, birthday boy.” She started to bang her head, her hair whipping everywhere and Alaric copied her.
It only took a few seconds for them to break into song, butchering the words, but they didn’t care.
“You aren’t singing.” Alaric yelled.
“I. Don’t. Know. The. Words.”
“So? Make up your own.”
He said any random thing that came to mind. They were completely wrong but seemed to fit the music anyway. If you can’t beat them—I opened my mouth and sang.
* * *
I read the sign over the long, low building. “Bowling?”
We were a good fifteen minutes outside the Hamptons and gone were all the million-dollar beach homes. In their place was a normal town.
“You’ve never been here, right?”
I'd never been bowling, and it wasn’t a dying wish of mine to go either. When we walked in, the place smelled like cheese. It was pretty much empty, with the exception of some old ladies in matching pink bowling shirts.
“What size shoe do you wear?”
“Eleven and a
half, why?”
Alaric put his foot against mine. “Your feet are huge.”
“Give it time, you’re going to be special-ordering shoes soon,” I answered, and he looked at me, confused. “Never mind.”
“Here you are.” She held up a pair of worn out red-and-gray shoes, which she’d gotten from the acne and brace-faced teen behind the counter of the bowling shoe rentals.
“You’re not serious.”
She handed a pair to Alaric, who already had his shoes off. The bored teen behind the counter took them and handed him a slip. Alaric gave it to Luella before stuffing his feet in the rented shoes. He looked at me like he had no idea why I was objecting.
“Should we add shoes to the list of things Dorian Rhys-Gallagher is afraid of?” The grin on her face spread as she handed me the shoes.
I put them on, scowling.
“You’re so brave, now you need to pick out your bowling ball.” She pointed. Alaric stood there in deep thought.
Picking one at random, I followed him to the lane next to the old ladies. Alaric, being the conversationalist he was, walked right up them, much to their excitement. He even pointed to one of their hearing aids and his own.
“Your son is just so cute,” one of them gushed to Luella.
“My aunt calls me a heartbreaker,” he said aloud, I was proud that he felt more comfortable using his voice.
“We are still working on that pride thing,” Luella replied, placing her hands on his head.
“You should be boasting yourself. What a fine family you have.” One of them tilted down her glasses and looked at me over. I could now scratch being checked out by someone’s grandmother in a bowling alley off my list of things that make me uncomfortable.
Never Let Me Go Page 13
