Page 20

I could see her debating about how to respond to Logan’s heartfelt compliment, but in the end, she just gave him a smile.

Turning to pin the three of them with a ‘mom’ look she said, “Okay, listen up. I ordered the pizzas and prepaid for them. It should be here within half an hour. There’s coke and orange juice in the fridge but no more than one sugary drink each, and you have to drink at least one bottle of water each with dinner too. Got it?”

“Yes, Mama,” they chorused.

“And don’t you dare eat all the cookies or we will be havin’ an unpleasant conversation tomorrow.”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Me and Martin are gonna be at Josie and David’s house and that’s only eight blocks away. Call me on my cell phone but only if it’s an emergency, like one of you have a broken bone protruding through your skin or the house is on fire.”

She paused, then added, “Oh yeah, please don’t set the house on fire.”

“We’ll be fine, we’re old enough to stay home alone for a few hours without gettin’ in trouble,” Logan said, exasperation thick in his voice. “Luke is a legal adult, you know.”

Lillian reached over and ruffled his hair, causing him to roll his eyes in a way that only teenagers could do.

“Y’all are still my babies, no matter what the state of Texas says.”

She held out her hand to me and gave me a big smile. “C’mon sexy, it’s time to go party.”

Behind us a trio of groans sounded.

Lillian

Dancing with Martin brought me back to our first night together. Tonight, like then, I was wearing a dress and make-up, but this was nowhere near the fancy dress and sophisticated make-up that I’d worn that night. It didn’t matter though. Martin seemed to like me just fine when I was in my regular day-to-day outfit of faded jeans, tee shirts, a sports bra, and work boots.

It was nice, dressing up and going to a party on the arm of a handsome man who professed to love me.

Even though I hadn’t dated that much since my divorce, I’d convinced myself that no one would want a single mother with three boys in their life. And the act of dating itself seemed selfish when I was trying to keep food on the table and make sure my kids were raised right.

But this thing, whatever it was that I had with Martin, felt good. Comfortable. I just wasn’t sure how long it could last. Between us we had six kids, two full-time jobs, two houses, and a ‘to do’ list a mile long. It didn’t leave very much time for us to have grown up time, especially with us living thirty minutes away from each other – forty-five when the traffic was bad. And the traffic was only bad on days that ended with a Y.

As I watched George and Cassie make the rounds at their party, accepting congratulations from their friends and family, I felt a twinge of envy. It wasn’t like me – I was usually a very practical and stoic person – but it was there nonetheless. I wouldn’t mind a party like this for me and Martin someday – if we could ever figure out how to be together more than a few times a month that is.

When we got home after the party, tipsy and happy, the house was quiet. After popping my head in and verifying that the boys were all asleep, we headed downstairs.

I’d converted most of the basement into a master suite with a large bedroom, sitting room, and bathroom. It was warm and comfortable, my sanctuary away from noisy boys having belching contests or playing video games. A place completely absent of foul-smelling sweat socks on the floor, toothpaste detritus in the sink, or toilet seats in the wrong position.

The minute I closed the door I was on Martin, kissing him and practically tearing off his clothes. We made love twice before falling asleep in each other’s arms. It was only the fourth time we’d been able to spend the whole night with each other, fifth if you counted New Year’s Eve, and my last thought before I drifted to sleep was that I wished I could do this every single night.

I woke up when Martin got out of bed the next morning.

“Where are you going?” I mumbled.

“I have to use the bathroom, then I thought I’d go upstairs and make us some coffee.” He paused, probably thinking he sounded too presumptuous. “I mean, if it’s okay to make coffee? We could drink it in bed.”

I knew that wasn’t the only thing he wanted to do in bed this morning. I could see his morning wood clear as day, so he was probably going to have to wait a bit before he could pee.

“You bring me coffee in bed, and I’ll love you forever,” I teased.

I snuggled back under the blankets, almost falling asleep again before I heard the door open and Martin called down, “Lillian? Honey? I think you’d better get up here.”

I popped right out of bed and was pulling on a robe and heading for the stairs before I even thought about it. After years of being a single mother I was highly attuned to panicked voices, and Martin definitely had a tone of panic in his voice.

When I got upstairs Martin was leaning against the counter looking uncomfortable while my parents glared at him from the middle of the room. Martin was wearing a pair of sleep pants and nothing else, his rumpled hair making him look extra adorable.

“Mama? Daddy? What are y’all doing here at this hour?”