Of course, I turned to look at him over my shoulder. “Yeah, we are.” I blinked right back at him. “If I do anything to make you uncomfortable, just let me know. I don’t really have a verbal filter.” I thought about it for a second and added, “And I’m a little touchy-feely, but I don’t mean anything by it, so just tell me. It’s not a big deal. I won’t cry. I’ll tell you if I have a problem with something.”
Dallas made a sound that might have been a snort. “I’m getting that.”
I smiled awkwardly and maybe a bit tightly at him then turned back to face the stove when his question came.
“Since we’re good, can I ask why you have Pop-Tarts in your back pocket?”
Chapter Ten
“Josh, I swear to God—”
“I’m coming!”
I did the sign of the cross with one hand, eyeing the face of my cell phone with a grumble. We were running fifteen minutes late, and while I didn’t have to be at work until eight forty-five, I still hated Josh and Lou getting to school after it started. Rushing drove me bonkers, even though I seemed to be running behind half the time anyway. More like three-fourths of the time if I was going to be totally honest with myself. And if I was going to be even more honest with myself, this whole not-getting-places-on-time business didn’t start until the boys became mine.
“Joshua!” I yelled just as Louie lifted his red school Polo shirt up from his spot next to me, showing the empty space where a belt needed to be. “Goo, you forgot your belt.”
He looked down like he didn’t believe me and immediately took off down the hall back toward his room with his shoulders stooped. That should have told me what kind of day it was going to be. Louie didn’t usually walk anywhere like he was headed for his execution.
“Joshua Ernesto Casillas,” I hollered again, two seconds away from losing it. I’d woken him up at the same time I always did. He’d even stood up and started putting his pants on right in front of me before I left the room, but by the time fifteen minutes had passed and he still hadn’t come out of there, I had gone to check on him, only to find him asleep again, sitting on the mattress with his pants at his knees in only his tighty-whities.
“I said I’m coming!”
“You also told me last week you were going to stop ‘resting your eyes’ after I woke you up, but from the looks of it, that hasn’t happened either,” I snapped, gripping the very edges of my patience.
There was a pause before, “I’m sorry!” What a faker.
He should be sorry, but I knew I needed to accept his apology before he stopped giving them. I was worried, if I guilt-tripped him too much, at some point it would stop being effective. “I forgive you but come on, man! Chop, chop!”
Two seconds later, the older brother followed the younger one down the hall, clutching two backpacks, two jackets, and a baseball bag between them. The Larsens were taking him to batting practice tonight. I waved them on, locking the door behind them as we basically all ran toward the car… until Josh stopped and threw his hands up. “I forgot my helmet!”
Oh my God.
“What happened to checking off your list?” I asked him.
“I was trying to hurry!” was his excuse.
The look I gave him went pretty much ignored as I tossed the keys in his direction, lunging like I was going to give him a wedgie as he ran back to the house. Turning back to face Louie so I could tell him he might as well get into the car while we waited, I stopped and took in the little boy standing a few feet away. Did he look pale or was I imagining it? And were there bags under his eyes or was I imagining that too?
“You okay, Lou?” I asked him, frowning.
He wasn’t looking at me when I questioned him, but his blue eyes swung to me and he nodded the most unconvincing nod I’d ever seen.
“Are you sure? Did you sleep bad?” The longer I took him in, the worse he looked.
“Yeah,” he answered, scrunching up that adorable nose for a moment. “My head hurts.”
I’d heard that excuse before from Josh. “A little or a lot?”
He shrugged.
Well, it couldn’t be that bad if he wasn’t complaining. “Can you try to go to school?”
He nodded.
In my gut, I knew that was a weird way for him to respond. Josh was the body language one of the two; Lou usually said whatever was on his mind. But I still dropped to a knee and gave him a hug, touching his cool forehead and cooler cheeks. His coloring was off, but he wasn’t warm. His arms wrapped around my neck and he gave me a squeeze.
By the time Josh came back, Lou was already buckled into the booster seat that he hated and I had just slammed his door shut. Josh tossed the keys over and I asked just to be sure, “Did you check that the front door really closed?”
