Nine p.m. finds me parked across the street from the library, waiting for Steph to lock up. I’d learned from Piper that she closes three nights a week, then four nights the following one, because they alternate working Saturdays. Luckily, the library closes earlier on Saturday, which is our busiest night at Aroma’s, because I’d have a harder time ducking out to keep an eye on her then. Piper had been hesitant to give me Steph’s schedule, but when I’d explained why I wanted to know, she’d clutched at her chest and smiled at me with a soft ‘aww.’
I don’t plan on letting Steph know I’m here. Maybe that sounds creepy or stalker-y, but I’m okay with that if it means she gets home safe. I only plan to stick around long enough to watch her get in her car and drive away. I know she’s a grown woman and can take care of herself. I know she’s been doing it for a long time—but I hate thinking about that, about how alone she’s been and how much she’s had to manage single-handedly.
My mind flashes back to how sad she’d looked that night at the wedding, how world-weary she often seems when she thinks no one is paying attention. She may not know it yet, or be ready to accept it, but I’m here now, and I’m prepared to bear some of that weight.
So tonight, and every night from now on, I’m going to watch over my girl to make sure she’s safe.
21
Steph
“Sawyouflirtingwiththat cute girl with the glasses in the lunch line today,” Matty says to his brother with a smirk. “What’s her name again? Isabelle?”
It’s dinner time, and both boys are particularly moody this evening. I know Matt said he had a rough practice this afternoon, but I’m not sure what’s gotten into Alex beyond the typical hormone-induced teen angst. I sigh, already preparing to put my referee hat on.
“She goes by Izzy. And no, I wasn’t,” Alex says, his face going red.
Matty forks ahuge spoonful of pasta into his mouth and shrugs. “Ure ooked ike it oo eee,” he says, which my mom brain easily translates to ‘sure looked like it me.’
“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” I spout automatically, and both boys roll their eyes.
I sigh again and roll mine too. Teenagers.
Matty makes a point of swallowing loudly before he continues. “It’s cool, Lexi, you don’t have to be embarrassed.”
“Don’t call me Lexi, asshole.”
“Don’t swear,” I pipe in.
“Sorry, Mom,” Alex replies, chagrined. “But I’m sick of this— this— jerk calling me—”
I raise a hand to cut him off. “I get it, and you’re right.” Turning to Matty, I say, “Your brother doesn’t appreciate the nickname, and neither do I. So quit it.”
“Aww, I was just teasing,” he replies.
“Well, cut it out,” Alex snaps. “And I’m not embarrassed, ’cause I wasn’t flirting!”
“If you say so.” Matt’s voice is thick with skepticism.
I rub my forehead, feeling a headache coming on.
“Whatever.” Alex snatches up his glass and chugs the rest of his juice, then sets it down on the table a little too hard. “If you want to tease someone about flirting, maybe you should tease Mom.”
Oh, great. This is just what I needright now.
Matty rears back in surprise before his eyes flit to mine. Pretty sure I’m the one with the red face now.
“What’s he talking about?” he demands.
I take a deep steadying breath, but before I can say anything, Alex cuts in. “Uncle Aidan’s brother’s been sniffing around her.”
“Alex!”
The boys have come to refer to all of my friends as either aunts or uncles, but that particular reference hits a little differently now, and it causes my stomach to roil with nerves.
“What?!” he glances at me. “It’s the truth.” Turning back to his brother, he continues, “Twice now I’ve caught them together, and both times Mom looked guilty as fu—” he catches himself before cursing in front of me a second time, but his feelings about the situation remain clear as he crosses his arms and glares at me. “Supposedly, this guy was her boyfriend before Dad. And now he wants her back.”
Matty’s eyebrows have nearly hit the ceiling. His fork clatters against his plate, the noise akin to a bell tolling my doom. “Why is this the first I’m hearing about this?” he asks, and I’m filled with shame.
