I love Mav more than words could express, and if he’s the only kid I ever have, I will die a happy woman. Just getting to be his mom is enough.
I want everything Cole has found, though. I want a family. I want a home filled with love and laughter. I want more little feet padding around.
I want someone to fall asleep with at night and to bring a warm cup of coffee to when they sleep in on Saturday morning.
I love the life and family I have, but other than Mav, they’re not reallymyfamily. It just isn’t the same.
Putting the last few things in the fridge, I rest my forehead against the cool metal door.
Maybe one day…
Pulling myself together, I get busy making the boys a snack. Mav and Oliver are upstairs playing in Mav’s room.
I know they want Pop-Tarts, so I put a couple on a plate. I add some grapes and apple slices, too, just to cover the good mom bases.
I knock on the door before stepping into the room. They’re sprawled out on the floor with a mound of magnetic tiles spread between them.
“Oh, thanks, Mom,” Mav says, hopping up to grab the plate from my hand.
Oliver brings his hand up to his chin and extends it outward, the sign for “thank you.”
I return the gesture, saying, “you’re welcome.”
I am by no means fluent in ASL, but I have picked up some while working in the emergency room.
The thought crosses my mind that maybe Oliver is deaf, but he reacts when people are talking to him. I’m also pretty sure I have seen him whispering to Mav.
Maybe signing is easier for him in certain situations. I don’t know, and it really doesn’t matter. He’s a sweet kid, and he’s a great friend to Mav.
“You boys have fun. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”
The sound of their giggles is the last thing I hear as I click the door closed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Kane
Abby did,in fact, move. Her new house looks a little bigger than the one she had a few years ago, but it has the same vibe.
There’s something about the black shutters against the white siding paired with a bright red door that just screams Abby.
I knock my fist against the door a few times and step back to wait for her.
After a minute, it swings open. Abby stands there looking cozy in a creamy white sweater that hangs off her shoulder and a pair of black leggings.
Her hair is pulled back in a clip, but a lot of pieces have slipped free and are falling around her face. She looks perfect.
“Hey,” she says with a warm smile.
“Hey.” I try to keep my eyes from tracking over her, but it’s really fucking hard.
“Come on in. The boys are still up in Mav’s room. I’m pretty sure they’re building a whole city up there.”
She walks inside, and I follow, closing the door behind me. I start to take off my boots, but she stops me.
“Don’t worry about it. I have a seven-year-old. This house is never perfectly clean.” She walks to the bottom of the stairs and hollers, “Oliver, your dad is here.”
“Okay, Mom,” Maverick’s muffled voice filters down to us. “It’s just going to take us a minute to clean up.”
