“I think she was just bitchy,” Laura said as she leaned against the wall. “Not that long ago, you were knee-deep in demons and saving the world, so of course you’re seeing them around every corner. But you and yours just stopped the apocalypse. Like, the Big One. Demons aren’t going to shoot you dirty looks and get on your bad side. You’re a badass Demon Hunter.”
“Damn right, I am.” We shared a grin. “You’re probably right,” I conceded. “Just because I got attacked near a fruit stand in Rome doesn’t mean I’ll get jumped in a checkout line.”
“My point exactly.” She gestured to the door. “Do you want me to get out of your hair so you can unpack?”
“How about you stay for a glass of wine? Unless it’s too early. My internal clock is still messed up.” I glanced at my watch andsaw that it wasn’t even four yet, but that meant it was late in Rome, and I was starting to feel draggy.
Laura and I had run a variety of errands in addition to party shopping, plus we’d grabbed lunch at Luigi’s Pizzeria. “So you can tell me all about the sights and shopping and food of Rome in the proper atmosphere,” Laura had said.
We’d had some wine then, so I figured why stop now? “I have to bathe the kiddo, so you’ll be drinking on a porcelain throne, but?—”
“—when have we ever stood on ceremony?” she finished with a grin. “And besides, that’ll make me queen for the evening. So that’s a bonus. Especially if you have something white and chilled. Assuming Eddie didn’t drink us dry.” I had yet to do a thorough inventory of the kitchen, and I was actively avoiding thinking about going to the grocery store to refill our larder. As far as I’m concerned, a nest of bloodthirsty vampires beats my local Ralph’s any day of the week.
Laura followed me into the living room as we headed to the kitchen. That’s where I found Timmy, wearing only Captain America undies on the floor in front of Eddie’s recliner, his toy doctor bag wide open. Boo Bear, the bedraggled blue bear that had been his favorite lovey since he was an infant, was splayed out on a small green blanket, the “stitches” from a recent repair apparent in the matted fake fur. My future surgeon was bent over, his little back arched as he listened to the bear’s heart through a plastic stethoscope.
“How’s the patient?” I asked.
He hadn’t heard me come in, and now he looked up with the kind of grin that made my mommy-heart squeeze. “A-Ok, Mommy!” He frowned down at the bear, then back up at me. “He needed a shot. Grandpa, too!”
I turned, looking back to where Eddie napped in the recliner.
“World’s best babysitter,” I quipped, shooting a grin Laura’s direction.
“I heard that,” Eddie grumbled. “Just resting my eyes. Little stinker watched an entireBarneyDVD. A man can only take so much purple.”
True enough.
I gave Timmy a five-minute warning for bath time, then told him to go pick out two toys for the tub. While he did that—”Walk, don’t run on the stairs, young man!”—I rummaged in our tiny wine fridge for a bottle of white while Laura pulled down two plastic sippy cups and took off the lids. No glass allowed in the bathroom, and apparently my bestie knew that rule as well as my kids.
“You’re brave to bathe him before dinner,” Laura said as we both made our way up the stairs.
“We’re overdue,” I confessed. “Between dealing with Eliza in the hospital, changing our return flight, and what felt like days in the air—in coach with a toddler, no less—it’s been awhile since my little guy’s been well-scrubbed.”
“Still…” I could hear the pending doom in her voice.
“I know,” I said, because she was right. Pre-dinner toddler baths were a dangerous thing. “Stuart’s bringing home dinner since our cupboard is stocked only with what Eddie considers food, and he knows not to get anything too messy.” Despite my general loathing of the place, I’d fully intended to hit the grocery store today, but in what I assumed was his way of apologizing for the Eric kerfuffle, Stuart had texted and offered to pick something up for dinner.
Since Eddie hadn’t joined us in Rome, we’re stocked up on basics like coffee and milk and orange juice. But the man lives on frozen dinners, Kraft Mac & Cheese, Eggs waffles, and pizza delivery, so there was no way that his idea of a well-stocked kitchen was going to result in a dinner for five. True, I couldhave defrosted something from the garage freezer or raided the pantry out there of its bulk canned goods from Costco, but I’d gratefully latched on to Stuart’s offer. Then I’d mentally shifted my grocery store run to tomorrow’s To-Do list and done a little happy dance around the bedroom where I’d been unpacking.
“You’re okay with hanging out?” I asked as I perched on the side of the tub and started fiddling with the temperature. “No hot date?”
“Not tonight,” Laura said.
I looked up from where I was pouring Mr. Bubbles into the stream. “Everything okay? I mean, it’s Saturday night. You and Cutter aren’t?—”
“It’s all good,” she assured me. “He even took me for a weekend in Santa Barbara while you were gone—after you saved the world, though, because I was on-call as Research Girl,” she added.
“Timmy!” I called, then turned back to Laura. “And yet no date tonight?”
“He’s in LA. Some sort of martial arts conference thing. For studio owners. Not a competition, so I don’t have to be there to cheer him on.”
I met Cutter soon after my first San Diablo demon attacked me. I realized I needed to get back in shape and refresh my atrophied fighting skills. I’d found him in the martial arts studio in the shopping center at the entrance to our subdivision. A former Navy SEAL, Cutter’s got the skills along with romance cover model good looks. And though he’d been curious about why I could match him—let’s face it, most stay-at-home-moms couldn’t have—he hadn’t pushed me for answers.
He’s in the know now, though, and I’m glad to have him be part of my ever-expanding circle of confidence. I’m even more glad that he’s with Laura, who’d been emotionally slammed when she learned that her now-ex husband had been cheating.
“Ducky and boat, Momma!” Timmy raced naked from his bedroom, thrusting the toys at me. I handed them to Laura before helping him into the tub.
“You’re going to be the cleanest boy in San Diablo,” I told him, in reply to which he thrust up a fist and said, “Super clean!”
