Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chicken Montana

I woke, stretched, my wrist hit something, and I opened my eyes.

It was just dawn, the light coming in from outside was weak, but I could see I’d knocked the new toothbrush head that Darius had put on his pillow off said pillow.

I smiled.

Then I looked around, but Darius wasn’t there. The bathroom door was open, so he must be up already.

I nabbed the toothbrush head, threw the covers back, and in Darius’s thermal, which I put on after our second round last night (finding something good about Liam having a whole level to himself, with another one sandwiched in between), I padded to the bathroom.

I did my business, got dressed and headed downstairs, making a mental list of what to pack to bring over and wondering if I had time at lunch to run out and double up on some toiletries.

Once I hit the downstairs, I heard male voices coming from the kitchen and headed that way.

I stopped in the door.

So much was happening last night, I didn’t get to take a moment to really watch father and son interact.

Now I saw Liam sitting at a stool at the long island that was the centerpiece of the big kitchen, eating eggs and bacon and toast with grape jelly, his back to me, but doing this like he’d lived there all his life, not just every other week for the last five months.

Darius was standing across from him wearing a long-sleeved Henley, this one in burnt orange, and jeans.

He had his weight braced into his hands at the edge of the counter, spread out to the sides, and his gaze on me.

He looked like the master of his domain, which he was, and that domain he’d created was amazing, like he was.

Liam caught his dad looking at me and peered over his shoulder my way.

“Carry on,” I said softly. “I want to watch.”

“You’re not going to cry again, are you?” Liam asked.

“I make no promises.”

He shook his head, a smile playing at his lips, and went back to his food.

“Come in, baby. I’ll make you breakfast before you gotta head home,” Darius invited.

“’Kay,” I mumbled and wandered in.

I took a seat next to my son.

“Did you get good sleep?” I asked him.

“Dad bought me one of those hybrid mattresses. It’s the shhhh-oot.”

I bumped him with my shoulder and teased, “It’s the shoot?”

“Cussing isn’t such a bad thing, Mom,” Liam informed me. “Dad and his buds do it all the time.”

My eyes cut to his father.

Darius cracked an egg into a bowl, shrugged and agreed, “It isn’t.”

“A gentleman doesn’t curse,” I declared.

Father looked to son, son looked to father, and they busted out laughing.

Oh Lord.

We’d had an equilibrium, with one authority…me.

Now I was outnumbered.

“Are you two going to make a habit of ganging up on me?” I asked.

“Absolutely,” Liam answered.

“Not on any important stuff, sweetheart,” Darius assured.

“I think cursing is important.”

Darius seemed perplexed.

He sounded it too, when he asked, “Really?”

“Maybe we should talk about this when the boy is not in attendance,” I suggested sweetly.

Okay, not sweetly.

Fake sweetly.

“You’re still not gonna change my mind. I don’t buy that shit that swearing shows a lack of intelligence,” Darius retorted. “It just demonstrates another way the establishment tries to control your behavior by making random shit wrong, like words.”

“Or sex,” Liam put in.

Darius nodded. “Or sex.”

It felt like my eyes had bugged out of my head.

“We’re definitely talking about this when the boy is not in attendance,” I decreed.

“We’ve had the talk, baby,” Darius replied. “A couple of years ago. He’s got condoms.”

I made a cacking noise then my forehead thunked on the stainless-steel counter because I couldn’t hold it up anymore.

Though, it must be said, I was relieved they’d had the talk. I hadn’t done it yet because I was committed to the task of avoiding it like the plague. Not smart for a woman who’d been a teenage mom but cut me some slack. That stuff wasn’t easy.

And anyway, I’d been secretly hoping my dad or Tony had stepped in.

Fortunately, Liam’s own father did.

“I think you broke her,” Liam remarked.

“She’ll be fine,” Darius replied, and I heard him whisking my eggs.

I lifted my head and wheezed, “Coffee.”

“Get your mother a coffee,” Darius ordered.

Liam left his plate and went to the coffeepot.

He then returned with a handsome mug that was a matte charcoal gray on the outside and a shiny robin’s egg blue porcelain on the inside.

Right.

Now this was just weird.

I examined the cup then looked to my man. “Is everything in your house perfect?”

“Aunt Danni and Aunt Gabby bought everything in this place,” Liam informed me. “They even put together my space. It’s sick.”

“Danni and Gabby?” I whispered to Darius.

Those were his sisters, Danielle and Gabrielle.

“They own an interior design business together,” he shared.

Now this was weird too, but not the good kind.

Because I realized how much I didn’t know. How much I missed. How much I didn’t ask about.

Even Lena last night knew about “the reserve.”

But I hadn’t even seen it and had just heard about it.

“Don’t go there,” Darius warned, reading my mind.

“It’s impossible not to,” I returned.

“We’ll catch up. Mom’llhavea dinner. It’ll be all good,” he declared.

“You can’t catch up on eighteen years over a dinner, Darius,” I informed him.

“You can make a start,” he returned. “All we can do, the three of us, is take it one step at a time. We’re having breakfast. That’s this step. Let’s focus on that. You with me?”

“Stop being rational when I’m on the verge of freaking out,” I snapped.

“Get used to it, sweetheart,” he shot back.

I felt something strange and turned my head to see our son’s attention was bouncing between his dad and me and his grin was large.

When I witnessed it, I was sure glad I didn’t make any promises about crying.

Liam saved me by stating, “This is the best fucking breakfast ever.”

Then he munched into his toast.

My son had just casually dropped the F-bomb in front of me.

I swung a killing look at Darius.

And again, he busted out laughing.

Liam joined him.

I didn’t.

I drank coffee.

* * * *

I’d gone home, washed yesterday’s makeup off, showered, dressed, and was on my way to work when the first call came in from someone I didn’t know.

I had a son who was out in the world, and he had a new car, which was a muscle car, but even before that I’d lived a life where I knew anything could happen, so even if this meant I regularly had to hang up on marketers and scammers, I took the call.

“Hello?”

“Malia! Hey, it’s Indy. We’re putting together a Malia and Darius Are Together party. Obviously, since you’re one of the people of honor, you gotta come. Are you free Saturday night?”

“I think so.”

“Perfect. Text me Toni and Lena’s numbers. We have to ask them. And your folks.”

“Um…okay.”

“So are you moving in with Darius, or is he gonna move in with you?”

“We haven’t really decided yet,” I semi-lied.

I was definitely moving.

And it wasn’t about the wine cellar I still hadn’t seen, nor was it about the décor.

It was the fact we’d shared our first breakfast as a family in his kitchen, even if Liam finished eating well before Darius and me, and it might be weird, but now, that felt like home.

“Oh?” She sounded disappointed.

“But I’m doubling up on toiletries,” I blurted, because no one wanted to be disappointing.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Rock on!” she cried.

I couldn’t help it, I laughed.

She hadn’t changed one bit.

And that made me happy.

“I gotta call Ally and tell her. Girl, you can’t know how thrilled we are for you two. This is the best love story of them all.”

I couldn’t disagree.

“Thanks.”

“And glad to have you back. Missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“Right, letting you go. We’ll catch up Saturday. Later!”

“Later.”

She hung up.

I was smiling as I finished driving to work.

And when I got to my desk, I programmed Indy’s number into my phone.

* * * *

The next call came when I was at the mall, dashing through the skincare and makeup sections, eating Wetzel Pretzel bites for lunch, multitasking.

It was another number I didn’t know.

“Hello?”

“Hey, chickie. Ally.”

“Heya, Ally.”

“Were you at?”

“At the mall, doubling up on toiletries.”

“I heard. Righteous,” she said. “Listen, I know we’re on for the party Saturday night, but you got some time during the day to meet me at Fortnum’s?”

Fortnum’s.

I’d avoided it for nearly two decades for fear Darius still went there, and more, because I couldn’t face the happy memories that had seemed so bittersweet, with emphasis on bitter.

Now they could just be sweet.

I felt something settle in me because I had Indy back, and Ally back, and I’d have Duke back, and Fortnum’s too.

“I can meet you, what time?”

“Eleven?”

“Works for me. And I didn’t get to ask Indy, but should we bring anything to the party?”

“Just you and Darius and Liam. The guests of honor don’t have to contribute. But get your recipes in order. We do this shit a lot.”

Why wasn’t I surprised?

“We’ll bring a bottle anyway.”

“Suit yourself. See you Saturday.”

“See you then.”

I hung up and the saleslady told me my total.

I then fought fainting (one never stocked up on it all, all at once, but doing so was sobering, it still wasn’t going to deter me from my products, because I made bank, obviously so did my man, and I deserved them), and I handed over my credit card.

While she ran it, I programmed Ally’s number into my phone.

When I got out to my car, I shoved it all in my trunk with a smile.

Because I had to lug it all out there.

But Darius would order Liam to go out and get it when I got home.

* * * *

That night, after going to my house and packing, I drove down the alley behind Darius’s house and used the remote for his garage he gave me that morning.

But even after the door was completely up, I didn’t pull in.

Because the Charger was in the garage, and the Silverado was parked in the spot beside it, open to the elements.

He gave his son and his woman his garage, and he was going to get into a cold car tomorrow.

I took a deep breath so I wouldn’t get caught by one of his neighbors sitting in my car in the alley sobbing, and I pulled in.

Since I’d gone gung ho, I opened the back door and heaved the massive suitcase out of it. No need to waste a trip.

That big case didn’t fit in the trunk with all my bags and the other suitcases.

Luckily, it had rollers, but still. I had some steps to get up, which wasn’t easy.

I made it to the back door, entered a mudroom/laundry room that looked like an advertisement for Crate and Barrel, and then Darius was there.

He looked to the huge-ass suitcase, to me, the suitcase, back to me.

“Jesus, babe,” he said, lips twitching.

“There’s more in the car.”

That’s when he started chuckling, and the light that hit his eyes was humor, for sure, it was also something else that I loved with every fiber of my being.

He then shouted, “Liam! Get your mom’s shit from the car!”

“On it!” Liam shouted from the bowels of the house.

Darius strong-armed me away from my suitcase and rolled it in.

I followed him into the kitchen then into the living room and stopped there to get a kiss on the cheek from my kid and a “Hey, Mom.”

“Hey, honey.”

He kept going.

Darius left the suitcase at the foot of the stairs and came back to me.

“How much is out there?” he asked.

“You might want to help him.”

That look in his eyes came back, he wrapped a hand around the side of my neck, and he kissed me.

It was wet, and it was thorough, but it was far too short.

“A red is breathing for you in the kitchen,” he murmured when he was done with my mouth.

“Okeydokey.” I was breathing too (I still wasn’t over the kiss).

He shook his head, gave my neck a squeeze and took off.

I went to the kitchen and poured a glass of wine.

I was taking my second sip (I really needed to tour the cellar, last night’s wine was excellent, tonight’s was superb) when my two boys came back.

“Jeez, Mom, did you leave anything at Nordstrom?” Liam asked.

“No,” I answered.

He shook his head like his father had not much earlier and disappeared into the living room.

Darius, rolling my medium suitcase (Liam had all the bags, and was rolling my carryon), followed him.

Darius came back quickly, meaning Liam got the job of lugging that all up the stairs.

“Did you make room for my stuff?” I asked.

“Babe, I’m not a clotheshorse like you. Three quarters of my closet is empty, and there’s inbuilt drawers in there I’ve never used.”

“So I’m set,” I said before my next sip.

“Did you bring hangers?

I frowned.

“I’ll hit Target tomorrow,” he muttered, going after his own wineglass.

This wine thing was another surprise. I’d always thought Darius would be a beer drinker. He was when we were partying in high school.

I guessed he grew up.

Like me.

I noticed it.

And yet part of me was stuck back in time.

Learning these new things about him, I found, was pretty damned awesome.

“I’ll head out at lunch and go to the Container Store,” I said. “I’m persnickety about my hangers.”

He poured as he replied, “You tell me what you want, I’ll get it. I’m out of the office most of the time. It’s easier for me to swing by than it is for you to get away. And you need a break for lunch, not hitting a store.”

“It’d be appreciated.”

“That’s nice, but it really isn’t a problem.”

Okay, maybe I could take them ganging up on me, if I got this diva treatment on the regular.

But we still had to have a conversation about the cussing.

“Did you hear about the party on Saturday?” I asked.

“Brace, baby. They’re gonna suck you into the Rock Chicks.”

The Rock Chicks.

That’s what the book was called that someone wrote about Indy and Lee.

It was apropos. They’d always been Rock Chicks, and from what I could tell, that also hadn’t changed.

“Is that bad?” I asked curiously.

“Not even a little bit. They’re good people,” he muttered as Liam strolled in.

“We got a decision?” he asked. “I’m hungry.”

“Oh, are we deciding on dinner?” I inquired, and my stomach inquired too. Those pretzel bites wore off several hours ago.

“Kind of,” Darius said then turned to me. “You wanna go out? A family celebration. Our first dinner together. Or do you want me to cook us something and have it lowkey here? I got a reservation at Carmine’s on Penn, but I can call and cancel if you want lowkey.”

I watched him get wavy as the tears filled my eyes.

“Dad, she’s gonna blow,” Liam warned.

Darius got close, bent to me and cupped my face. “Sweetheart, we don’t have time for this. Liam is hungry and our reservation is in half an hour. If we’re staying home, I need to call so they can seat our table. If we’re going, we have to leave in fifteen minutes. You can lose it when we get back.”

“We-we’re going out,” I forced out. “It’s a celebration. Nobody does dishes after a celebration.”

It was still watery, but I caught his smile.

I lost it when he touched his lips to mine.

“Rad,” Liam said. “Can we get Chicken Montana?”

With his arm around my waist, Darius tucked me into his side.

And then he said to his son, “You can get anything you want.”

I blubbered into my wine.

My boys looked down at me.

I lifted a hand. “Fine, fine, I’m fine.” I took a deep breath and let it out. “Totally fine.”

“She’s not gonna make it through dinner,” Liam said to his dad.

“Go get some Kleenex from the bathroom and shove it into her purse.”

“Gotcha.”

Liam took off.

Serious.

It was like magic.

I looked up at Darius. “Is it really just because you have a dick?”

“No. It’s because he’s happy and he wants us happy. In a week, he’s gonna return to being a teenaged kid.”

“So you have times were he grumbles and moans and backtalks under his breath?”

Darius’s brows went up. “He backtalks you?”

I shook my head quickly. “No. No. Never. Not ever.” And I hid my lying eyes by looking away and taking a sip of wine.

Darius nabbed his glass and sipped his.

Then he stated, “You’re a shit liar.”

“Whatever,” I said into my glass. After another sip, I told him, “I want Chicken Montana too.”

He turned me fully into his arms and bent his neck to look down at me.

“Anything you want, baby. Always.”

I rested against him in his beautiful kitchen held in his strong arms, thinking this was working out great.

For me.

For Liam.

But especially, for Darius.