“Well, I am a therapist after all,” his mother added, her bright blue eyestwinkling.
Heath and Rex had inherited their mother’s eyes and coloring, while Brock and Chase were clones of their father, right down to the green eyes, serious demeanor and dark hair—though Chase, like Rex, kept his head shaved bald for some reason. It was days like this, especially, that he really missed his dad, missed their family banter and all the jokes, because for a serious, no-nonsense cop, Zane Hart could toss out some wicked one-liners.
“Is that what you do?” Krista asked, some of the color leaving her cheeks. “You’re a sex therapist?”
Joy took a seat right smack dab between Rex and Heath on the couch. “Well, family therapist, but I specialize in sex, sexuality and relationships. But I’ll still see you if you’re not having issues in the bedroom.” She winked.
Brock cringed slightly at his mother’s wicked little smile. The last thing he wanted to think about was his mother’s sexual prowess or knowledge about how to “spice” things up in the bedroom. As far as he was concerned, his mother had not had sex since the night Heath was conceived.
Oh fuck. Now Def Leppard was in his head.
He shuddered.
His mother rolled her eyes again. “I certainly hope he’s not this big of a stick-in-the-mud at home,” she said, not blinking and looking dead serious at Krista.
Brock’s coffee tasted foul on his tongue.
The mother of his child in a godawful Christmas sweater chuckled next to him. “Not at all. No need for intervention.”
His mother seemed pleased with that, nodded and leaned forward to grab a strawberry. “Shall we open gifts?”
Brock let out a long, loud sigh of relief that made everyone, including Krista, laugh until cookie crumbs were flying.
Krista wandered into the kitchen an hour so later, after all the hubbub of the gift opening, to find Joy elbow-deep inside a turkey, packing it full of stuffing.
Despite the fact that Brock was still so tight-lipped about his family and life, she loved how open and honest Joy was. Maybe she could get his mother to spill the beans about Brock, save Krista the headache.
She saw a few dishes in the sink that needed to be scrubbed, so without even thinking twice, she donned the gloves, poured in some soap and went to task. “Can you tell me about Brock?” she asked, not bothering to look up from the sink. “What was he like as a kid? What were his hobbies? What are his hobbies now? Does he have any friends?”
The men had all gone outside to shovel the driveway and bring in some more wood for the fire. Though when she’d peeked out the window a moment ago, Brock was shoveling, Chase was stacking wood in the wheelbarrow, and Rex and Heath were having a snowball fight. Now was the perfect time to get the skinny on Brock while he was out of earshot.
Wiping the sweat from her brow with her non-turkey hand, Joy paused and waited for Krista to look at her. “Let’s just get a couple of things straight, honey.”
Oh, shit, what did she say wrong?
“I know my son can be a closed book. A hard nut. A fucking frustrating grump who acts more like a caveman some days than a human being. But he’smyson, and his secrets, his information is his to give and his alone. I know it’s like pulling teeth to get information out of him. I’m his mother. I know that shit firsthand. But I won’t be the one to tell you about him. If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you. You have to figure out your relationship,” she waved her hand flippantly, “whatever it is, on your own. With no help from me or anyone else. I’ve seen him do things for you I’ve never seen him do for anyone else. His shell is cracking, just maybe not as fast as you would like.” Her eyes softened. “But I won’t be the one to spill the beans. Just like if you told me all your dirty little secrets, I wouldn’t breathe a word of them to Brock. You’re both adults. Act like it.”
Krista swallowed hard, feeling like a child who’d just been slapped with a strap across the wrist. Her cheeks burned, and her gut churned.
She averted her gaze, not sure if she should still be looking at Joy and fearing what could possibly be written all over her face when the wise woman spoke again. “I think you’re a lovely young woman, strong and bright and beautiful and exactly what my son needs. You are so very welcome into this family, you and this baby. Lord knows I could use some extra estrogen in this house from time to time, but just know I’m not one of those meddling mother in-laws. You need to fight your own battles. I’m here if you need to talk, but I won’t go to Brockforyou. And vice versa. And I definitely won’t fill you in on him just to make your life easier. That information is earned through trust and time.”
Krista nodded. “I understand.”
Joy mimicked her nod before going back to her task of violating their dinner with her tiny little hand.
“So, uh, a sex therapist, eh?” She needed something to break the tension, and the fact that her child’s grandmother was a sex therapist seemed like as good a topic as any.
Joy tittered. “Well, I’m a psychotherapist and will see families and individuals for various reasons. But I specialize in sex and sexuality.” She glanced at Krista, who was looking around in search of a second apron. “Hanging off the fridge there. The one with the owls on it.”
Nodding, Krista slipped it over her head and tied it behind her back, wondering how much longer before a real telltale bump began to show beneath her clothes. “That’s really cool. What made you want to specialize in sex and sexuality?” Noticing a pile of washed carrots sitting on the counter next to a compost bucket, she located the peeler and began peeling. She needed to keep her hands busy.
Joy grunted and rose up onto her tippy toes in her red velvet slippers to really jam the stuffing into the turkey. “It’s always interested me. Maybe because my own sex life, before the boys’ dad, that is, was not a pleasant one. My ex, who was also my first, was a misogynist. When I got out of that relationship and into one with Zane, I realized how good things could be and I wanted to help other women, help otherpeoplerealize their entitlement to pleasure as well.”
“That’s amazing. And so cool.” She felt a little stupid, standing next to this incredibly liberal and educated woman. What else could she say?Amazingandcooldidn’t seem like responses worthy of this woman’s knowledge and expertise.
But Joy didn’t seem fazed in the least and just kept talking and cramming the turkey. “Was upfront with the boys from the get-go. None of this ‘pee pee’ and ‘wee wee’ bullshit. Call them by their real names, ‘penis’ and ‘vagina’ or ‘vulva’ to be more anatomically correct.”
This woman was raw and didn’t pull any punches, and Krista loved it. Loved her, even if she was a tad spooky when her mama bear came out.
