“Sure.”
“Audrey likes kids, huh?”
His face softens. His mouth crooks up in a lopsided grin. “She does.”
I follow his gaze to where Audrey’s humming and turning in a circle, a giggling Teo on her hip.
For a moment, I see another face on my old friend’s face—blue eyes, a wide mouth, golden hair.
Tess.
I blink, and it’s again Audrey, green-eyed and freckled, her wild red curls bouncing.
“Need help with that?” Ash says, and I realize I’ve been standing there, a beer in one hand, staring at his girlfriend.
Fucking hell.
“Sorry, man. Here.” I hand him the beer and fish two more from the fridge. “Can you open them? I’ll make the hot chocolate for the kids, and I’ll order a pizza or something.”
“I’ve got this,” Ash says. “My treat.” And he turns away, pulling out his cell.
I say nothing, instead swallowing hard. My chest is tight with a funny feeling—part relief because money is tight, part embarrassment, and part anger. Whether it’s directed at Ash for showing up to feed us all dinner, when I failed him so spectacularly in the past, or at myself, is anybody’s guess.
I open the cupboard to get the marshmallows and chocolate powder and find a scrap of paper taped inside the door. Something is written on it, in Dad’s hieroglyphic scrawl.
‘Cleanse this house with fire.’
What, now he decided to take issue with my cleaning abilities? Not up to his standards, are they?
Disgusted, and also relieved to be distracted from my previous thoughts, I grab the ingredients I need and pour milk in a pan to heat. I work on auto-pilot, the stress of the day catching up on me. Coach West’s words about second chances won’t stop echoing in my head.
Great. Just what I need. Doubts. Confusion. Hope.
I carry the mugs into the living room and find Ash playing a game of Risk with Miles, and Audrey tickling Teo. His chubby cheeks are flushed, and panic grips me for a moment. Is he running a fever again? Then again, would he be laughing like that if he were sick?
“Anyone want hot chocolate, or should I have it?” I mutter, wincing when my stomach grumbles, reminding me I haven’t eaten all day as I ran from home to college to work and back.
Predictably, Teo escapes Audrey’s clutches with a cry of “Me, me!” and lunges for his mug, which I barely catch in time before it crashes to the floor.
Miles rolls his eyes at me, reminding me he’s almost a teenager, and ow, that’s gonna hurt in the next couple of years. He gets up and grabs his mug nevertheless. Still likes his hot chocolate, and when I reach out to ruffle his hair, he ducks only half-heartedly.
The doorbell rings, and Ash shoots to his feet. He heads for the door before I can blink. I hear him talk to the delivery boy, and then he’s back, carrying a stack of pizzas.
“Dammit, Ash, we can’t eat all that.” Heat climbs my neck, more unease and embarrassment than anything else. “Look, I’ll pay for it.”
“No way.” He holds my gaze. His eyes are the palest I’ve ever seen—the color of arctic ice.
I swear under my breath and go to look for paper napkins and curry ketchup. Miles never eats pizza without it, and Teo does whatever Miles does, so… I guess I’ll be washing curry ketchup out of the carpet tomorrow.
Then again, what’s new? Clean the house, buy groceries, help Teo shower, help Miles with homework, make lunch, then work. Rinse and repeat. A usual Saturday for me, a routine I’ve fallen into this past year. At least it’s not as hectic as weekdays.
“We would’ve visited sooner,” Audrey says as I distribute the napkins and arrange the kids at the coffee table to keep the spillover on the carpet to a certain minimum. “But life has been sort of crazy these past months.”
I nod. I know. First Ash almost died from his dad’s fists, and then was knifed and left in the cold, because the underground fighting ring he worked for thought he’d betrayed them. His dad died, and then his long lost brother, Tyler, returned, and healing that relationship took time. Then, just when things had calmed down a little, Zane’s sister died, and Zane went off the deep end, drinking himself into a coma and barely coming out of it alive.
Crazy doesn’t even begin to cover it.
“It’s not like I’ve been around much, either,” I offer by way of apology, and it does nothing to lift the weight of guilt off my shoulders.
Audrey puts down her slice of pizza. Her eyes are very bright. “It’s okay, Dyl. We understand.”
Do they? I glance at Ash, but he’s busy sipping from his beer, a frown on his face. Maybe Audrey does, but Ash?