“What do you think?” James asked after he slipped on a green t-shirt with a St. Paddy’s design that said ‘I love beer’ with a shamrock in the place of love and a beer drawing in place of the word.
“Cute.”
“I know what you’re trying to say, but you can’t use the word cute. I’m a guy.”
“Sorry, it’s really clever.”
“I’ll take clever,” he agreed. “You look pretty.” He knew the right words to use. No novelty t-shirt for me. Instead, I went with a white sweater and bright green skinny jeans. Not getting pinched tonight. I hated that.
“You’re missing something, though.” James knelt down and reached into his over night bag. My heart began to pound wildly. Did he plan a St. Patrick’s Day proposal instead of a Valentine’s Day one? Men really could be clueless sometimes. My eyes lost focus and I felt faint. “Here it is,” he said.
This was it!
He pulled out a green headband with shamrocks attached to little springs and handed it to me. I let out a nervous laugh and slipped the festive fashion accessory on my head.
“How do I look?” I asked, striking a pose.
“You look hot, baby. How ‘bout me?” he asked and adorned his face with a pair of green, shamrock shaped sunglasses.
“Very sexy,” I said, winking at him.
The pub was packed. Everyone was sporting some kind of green, some with leprechaun hats and other getups. I didn’t feel as silly in my Lucky O’headband. Rachel, David, Holly, and Noom sat at a tall bar table in the center. The way they were laughing, it looked like they’d already had a couple glasses of green beer.
“You guys made it!” Holly said, unusually elated. I hugged her and introduced Noom to James.
Then, “Ouch!” What the fuck? Noom had pinched me.
“Happy St. Paddy’s Day!” he said, followed by a ridiculous laugh. I soothed my fresh sore.
“Noom, she’s wearing green,” Holly said. “You only pinch people if they’re not wearing green.”
Noom apologized, still laughing.
“Sorry, Mar. He’s still learning about our crazy traditions.”
“Mmhmm,” I murmured.
James and I settled in and he poured me a glass of green beer. “We have some news,” I said, pulling everyone’s attention. “You tell ‘em.”
James smiled with pride. “We bought a house!” Everyone roared with cheer and raised their glasses to us in a toast.
“Where is it?” Rachel asked.
“Alamo Square,” I told her. Everyone but Noom oohed at this.
“Let’s get a round of shots,” David announced. “On me.”
“Thanks, man,” James said.
“It’s the least I can do. You’re about to be broke!” He raised his glass and hooted a big laugh. James shot me a wink. They’d never know what a great deal we got. We sucked down the green-colored shots of flavored vodka and the party really began. Well, I should say it began for everyone else. No more drinks for me. I wanted to keep an objective eye on Noom, which wasn’t difficult because he seemed to make a point of hanging out with me throughout the evening. The more he drank, the looser his lips became.
“Holly says you are romantic.” Noom slurred his words.
“Do you mean a romantic?”
“Yes, yes. She says I am a romantic too.” He showed his teeth, which looked ultra-white against his brown skin. His English was slightly better than I thought, especially after all those beers. “We are same.”
“How so?” No way in hell that we were the same.
“You are romantic. I am romantic. You love Holly. I love Holly,” he said. That might be all we have in common.
“You love Holly?” I asked.
“Yes, I love Holly since the moment I saw her.”
Uh, oh. He was a romantic. I looked at Rachel, who was cringing just as I wanted to. Hopefully, she was right. Maybe he’d be gone sooner than later.
“That makes things difficult, I guess.” I shrugged and sipped my Shirley Temple.
“Difficult?” He raised his eyebrow.
“Yeah, going back to Thailand and having to leave Holly.”
Noom chuckled. “No, Holly and I are forever.”
Forever? Noom wasn’t just a romantic. He was a committed romantic. “Don’t you want to go back?” I asked.
“I will go back. Holly will go back too.” He delivered the words with confidence. Blood rushed to my cheeks and my heart pounded a little more.
Noom excused himself and Holly scooted in next to me. “Isn’t he so cute?” It was rare to see her so giddy.
“He’s adorable.” I flashed a tight-lipped smile.
“That’s why he’s called Noom. It means cute, young. I’m so glad he’s here. It sounds crazy, but I think he’s the one.”
Noom? The one? Was she high?
“Really? What makes you say that?”
“I can’t explain it. It’s a spiritual, chemical, emotional, and physical connection all rolled into one. All I know is I’ve never felt like this before.” I took a moment to pray that she was only saying those things because she was drinking and getting laid on a regular basis.
“Okay, just be careful. You two are from different worlds.” I patted her shoulder, looking into her eyes.
“Oh, Marin,” she spoke in her soft, airy voice. “One day you’ll see we’re all from the same world, just different coordinates.” Her eyes moved up as she toyed with the antennas on my headband. “What are you wearing this for?”
“James got it. He loves this goofy shit.”
“Aw!” Holly curled into herself as if the feelings of love and happiness enveloped her. “You’re buying a house and I’m in love. Isn’t this great!”
I couldn’t help but giggle at her lovable state. It had been a long time since I’d seen her so at ease. Over the past five years or so, she’d grown tenser over her work, saying there was so much to do and so little time. But it seemed that at least for the night, maybe the week, or maybe longer, she could let go.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Mother Material
Holly’s care of Mother Nature was admirable, but it was time to exemplify my own.
Step Four: Mother Material
The following Friday, James and I packed our bags for the weekend and headed to my brother’s with Marvin in tow. The kids, Miles and Jillian, were still in school when we arrived. Jennifer gave me a quick run down on all the need-to-knows, bed by ten and both had a shellfish allergy, so no iodine. Moments later, they couldn’t get out of the house fast enough.
“So now what?” James asked. A few hours remained before the kids got home.
“I dunno. We have the house to ourselves. We can do whatever we want.” Seconds later, James had me pinned against the counter, kissing me wildly. I pulled his shirt over his head and slid my fingers down to his belt. I didn’t know if it was that we were alone, that it was my brother’s house, or that it was definitely naughty, but it really turned me on.
James carried me up to the guestroom, where we were ordered to stay, and threw me on the bed. He felt amazing, the kissing, the sucking, the tickling, the grabbing, the moaning. After all this time, sex with him was still pretty . . . incredible.
I took a minute to collect myself after we’d finished, shaking my head and blinking. Trying to get the blood to flow back to my brain.
“Mmm,” he moaned. “You really are so sexy, you know that?”
“I think maybe the house makes me sexier,” I said.
He pulled me in. “I can’t wait to see how sexy you are in our house.”
Our house . . . I smiled. James got quiet, as he often did after sex. He usually fell asleep for about twenty minutes. I stayed still until his breathing became heavier then slipped out of the sheets.
“Where are you going?” he mumbled.
“I’m gonna run to the store. Stay here and sleep.” I grabbed some of my clothes off the floor and headed back to the kitchen to find my t-shirt lyin
g over the knife block. Would we remain the type of couple that gets a little rowdy in the kitchen?
I drove James’ SUV to the store down the street. The rows were bustling with retirees and stay-at-home moms. For the moment, as I pushed my cart up and down the grocery-filled aisles, I was one of them. After years of shopping for myself, it was good to shop for a family, my family. Granted, it was my boyfriend, niece, and nephew, but nonetheless, they were my family. I liked the idea of going back to the house and preparing snacks for the kids to eat while we helped them with their homework, then cooking a meal for all of us to share at the family table. So, I pretended as I pulled a tub of cookie dough off the chilly shelf.
“My kids love those,” a woman browsing the same section said.
“Mine too.” I smiled. “Have a good day.” Yeah . . . I could totally be one of them.
Jennifer kept a nice home for having two children. Nothing was out of place. Not a speck of dust on the counters or buildup on the faucet. Did she have the kitchen detailed? I searched for cookie sheets and preheated the oven. There was something soothing about cutting chunks of dough and placing them in neatly ordered rows on a sheet of foil. It seemed like forever ago that I had “baked” anything.
James wandered downstairs, digging a Q-tip in his ear while his wet hair rained droplets on his shoulders.
“They’ve got a nice tub,” he said. “Maybe we can take a bath later.”
“While the kids are home?” I asked, not taking my eyes off my maternal task.
“We have to do something when they go to bed.”
I smirked. He was still trying to get me naked. I couldn’t be mad at him for that, but I’d tease him anyway. “I thought that was our snuggle time.” I pouted.
“We can snuggle in the tub.” He grabbed my hips and planted a kiss on my cheek. “You makin’ cookies?”
“Mmhmm.”
“I kinda like suburban life.”
I chuckled. “Well, that’s too bad because we just bought a house in the city.”
“Yeah, but the house is very suburban.” The house on Fell Street may have had a homey, suburban feel, but it was nothing like Michael and Jennifer’s house. Theirs was more like a Victorian estate with extra square footage for guest rooms, dens, home offices, and more bathrooms than I’d ever care to clean.
When the cookies were done, I organized them on an oversized ceramic plate. They looked and smelled irresistible so I couldn’t resist and ate one. However, with one missing, my formation on the plate was unbalanced, so I ate another to even it out.
Marvin barked and ran to the front door. The kids were home. James had already made it into the entryway to get the dog, and Jillian and Miles stood with wide grins and colorful packs on their back.
“Aunt Marin!” they screamed and wrapped their adorable little arms around me. Marvin whined and pulled toward the kids as James held tight to his collar. Miles petted the dog, calming him enough to stand still though his tongue went wild. James and I laughed while the kids dodged Marvin’s sloppy kisses.
Excitement was definitely high, and it took a while before we had everyone peacefully settled in the kitchen.
“Are you staying here the whole weekend too, James?” seven-year-old Miles asked.
“Yep.”
“And Marvin too?” Jillian, who was two years older, chimed in.
“That’s right,” James said.
You would’ve thought we told the kids we were taking them to Disneyland the way they reacted.
“Who wants cookies?” I asked.
Their hands shot in the air. “Me! Me!”
“Do you have any homework?” James asked them.
“I don’t,” Miles said.
“I do.” Jillian frowned. They scooted onto the bench and I slid them each a plate of two cookies and glasses of almond milk from the fridge.
“Miles, are you sure you don’t have homework?” I gave him an accusatory look. He squinted, so cute. I just wanted to kiss his cubby little cheeks the whole weekend.
“Oops, I do. I forgot.” Miles covered his mouth after letting out a goofy chuckle. James sat with Jillian while she did her English and math assignments. Miles and I sat across from them while I helped him with his science worksheet. I could feel James staring at me from across the table, and I glanced up at him every so often. Watching him play the daddy role was hot. Yeah, my clock was definitely ticking. All I wanted to do was get in that nice bathtub with him and make our own baby.
“What’s for dinner?” Miles asked.
“We’re making pita pizzas,” I said.
“What’s that?”
“You’ll see. We’re gonna make our own pizzas.”
“Yes!” Jillian hissed. “Everyone likes pepperoni on pizza, and I hate pepperoni.”
Hate pepperoni? She hadn’t gotten that trait from me.
“Well, you can dress it however you like. I’m gonna prep the ingredients, you guys wanna help?” They shouted yes and the three of us opened packages of cheese, pepperoni, olives, chopped onions, and peppers. Who knew that children could have so much fun sorting food? Each of us had designed a few pita pizzas, and Jillian and Miles waited patiently in front of the oven, watching the cheese bubble and melt over the vegetables.
“Can I have another cookie?” Miles asked.
“After dinner,” I said.
We spent the evening at the kitchen table. First enjoying our pita pizzas, then playing Operation and finishing the leftover cookies. We played teams: James and Miles on one and Jillian and I on the other. We took turns winning since James and Jillian had the steadiest hands. Miles and I refused to let those two be on a team together. Eventually, it was bedtime.
“Okay, kids, it’s time to change into your pajamas and brush your teeth,” I told them.
“Aw, but we’re having fun,” Jillian whined.
“I know, but it’s time for bed.”
The kids began to move slowly from the table.
“Where are you gonna sleep?” Jillian asked.
“In the guest bedroom,” I said and followed them out of the kitchen.
“What about James?”
“He’s sleeping in the guest room too.”
“In the same bed?” Mile turned to me with widened eyes.
“Yes . . .” Did they not understand the nature of our relationship? Then again, I didn’t know if I understood the nature of our relationship.
“But you’re not married,” he said.
Thanks, Miles. I’d almost forgotten.
I tried to usher the two of them up the stairs. “No, but we love each other very much.” How was I supposed to explain it to a child?
“I thought only married mommies and daddies can sleep in the same bed.”
If Miles wanted James and me to be a married mommy and daddy, I was right there with him. I looked around for James, hoping he could hear the conversation, but he was cleaning up the board game in the kitchen.
“Well, unmarried mommies and daddies can sleep in the same bed too,” I said, then cringed. What was I saying?
“You’re not a mommy though.” Another slap in the face.
Finally, I got Miles to stop with the questions by getting him to brush his teeth with sparkly blue paste and a tiny brush. I helped Jillian brush her soft light hair that she got from Jennifer. “Can you read to us, Aunt Marin?” Jillian asked.
“Yeah, can you, please?” Miles begged. Did seven and nine-year-old kids still want to be read to before bed?
“We’ve been reading The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.” Jillian showed the book to me.
“Sure.” I shut off the bathroom light, then the three of us climbed into Jillian’s full-size bed, with her pink and green floral bedspread. Was it normal for kids her age to have a full? When I was nine, I slept in a twin-size bed and so did all of my friends.
She handed me a paperback with a bookmark holding its place. The events of the day left me with little energy, but I managed to finish a chap
ter before sending Miles to his bed.
“Hey, Aunt Marin?” he asked before I turned off the light.
“Yes.”
“When is James going to be my uncle?” he asked.
I sighed. Only James could answer that question. “I don’t know, that’s up to James. Now go to sleep, I’ll see you in the morning.”
I returned to the kitchen to a pile of dirty dishes. James had disappeared somewhere upstairs. As I rinsed off the plates and placed them into the dishwasher, I felt a mix of emotions. The kids were great, and being a mother was definitely a role I wanted to play. Not that being a mother meant my days would be like this one.
There was also a sense of uneasiness. The great thing about kids was the way they saw the world and their lack of verbal filters. If Miles was asking questions about my and James’ future, then surely others were wondering. Even James’ mom mentioned it. It’s like everyone was on board except for James. On second thought, I was still in the middle of the McQueen Method and had to have faith that it would all work out soon.
“You almost done?” James asked.
“I thought you were asleep upstairs.”
“Nope, I have a surprise for you.”
“Oh yeah?” I smiled. “Just a sec.” I bent over to turn the dishwasher on, but none of the buttons I pressed seemed to do the trick. “How the hell do I use this thing?” James came over and we spent a few minutes deciphering symbols and pressing random buttons. Finally, it began to run. I just hoped it would clean the dishes too.
James led me to the bathroom where he had drawn a bubble bath, complete with candles, some kind of lavender scent—oil or maybe bath salts.
“Is this for me?” I asked.
“It’s for us.” He helped me remove my clothes and I helped him with his. We sunk in, letting the bubbles blanket us. I was too tired to get too excited, so I just let the warm water soak my tired muscles and breathed in the calming scent.
“You’re right. We should get a tub like this,” I said.
“Can you imagine ending our days this way?” he asked.
“Yeah, that’d be nice.” I closed my eyes, imagining that we were in our own house and our own children were sleeping down the hall. “The kids really like you, ya know?”
The Commitment Test (The Marin Test Series Book 2) Page 11
