I check my phone again, chastise myself for being ridiculous, then set it screen-down on the countertop.
“The kids all right?” Jayson inquires.
“Huh?” I reply distractedly, flipping my phone over just to make sure nothing came in in the last second. “Oh…yeah. Marcus is out on a date. I have no idea where everyone else is. I texted Fallon, but he hasn’t replied back.”
Jayson takes out his phone and puts it to his ear. “Hey, Jules…yeah…yeah, it was good…no…is Charlotte there withGrant? Hold on.” He puts it on speaker. “Could you tell Liz that so she’ll stop worrying?”
“I was not worrying,” I sharply refute, and Julien’s chuckle comes over the line.
“Fal took Charlotte and Chris to the Fields. Grant tagged along. He and Charlotte were going to go to a movie after.”
I completely forgot today is Friday.
“If you hear from them before I do, could you tell them to call me when they get home?”
“I will. Can I please get back to seducing my husband? We were kind of in the middle of something.”
The line cuts off.
“Guess we know what they’re doing,” Jayson says with a laugh.
“They still act like horny teenagers. Want to eat out on the patio? It stopped raining.”
He pulls a piece of pepperoni off his pizza and pops it into his mouth. “Won’t everything be wet?”
“The patio is covered. It has a gas fireplace.”
He picks up our plates. “Sold.”
I grab two bottles of sparkling water from the fridge and lead the way.
Through the double French doors, the back patio opens into a courtyard that overlooks the gardens. It’s similar to the back property of the Montgomery estate and includes an Olympic-sized swimming pool and tennis courts. Daniel and Drew never sold this place when they uprooted and moved to Fallen Brook to be closer to me and the kids; however, they do return a few times a year to visit friends and always come for Elizabeth Ann’s birthday.
“I guess they put the other patio furniture into storage after we were here in June,” I comment when we get outside to findno tables or chairs, only the large outdoor sectional facing the fireplace.
Jayson wearily groans when he sits down and kicks up his feet on the chaise lounge side of the couch. “I’m getting old.”
Turning the gas on, I get a fire started to help chase away the dampness of the evening air. “That word is forbidden.”
He salutes me with his sparkling water. “It’s how I feel. Old and tired.”
Joining him, I tuck my legs to the side and take my plate from him. Jayson is already done eating before I start on my first slice.
“Bite your tongue. I’ll be old when I’m eighty.” The low hum of the fire has a drowsy effect, like white noise in the background, and I yawn as I take a bite of pizza.
“You just proved my point.” He settles back into the cushions and rubs circles on his temples.
“Headache?”
“The joys of flying,” he replies.
“My ears still haven’t decompressed. I took some ibuprofen. Want me to get you some?”
“It’s not bad.”
“Did you try doing the Valsalva maneuver to pop your ears?”
He snorts good-humoredly. “Yes, Dr. Cutton.”
