Wrong Place, Right Time(61)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Wednesday night is finally here—my big night working with Lucky at the Blue Marine offices after hours.

It’s still light outside when May arrives to watch the kids for me. She walks in without ringing the bell, and I’m standing in the family room with my purse over my shoulder. She is focused on finding the kids and doesn’t see me. “I’m here!” she shouts down the hallway toward the kitchen.

I clear my throat so she’ll see me. She turns her head and smiles. “There you are! Wow, and don’t you look snazzy.”

“Oh my god, you sound just like Mom.”

May comes into the room and gives me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. I return the affection, hoping she doesn’t sense my nervousness in my embrace.

“Are you freaking out?” she asks, holding me out at arm’s length, staring into my eyes as if she can act as a human lie-detector that way.

So much for hiding my emotions. “Yes. Does it show that much?”

“No. You look snazzy and confident.”

I shake my head at her. “You are such a terrible liar.” I turn my attention toward the staircase. “Kids! Auntie May is here to hang out with you!”

Something that sounds very much like a herd of very small wildebeests comes next, as the children charge down the staircase. The first one to the bottom is Sophie. Her feet barely hit the floor before she’s running and throwing herself against her aunt. “Auntie May! You haven’t been here in forever!”

May hugs Sophie, who’s clinging to her waist, while rolling her eyes at me. “So dramatic. You know I was here just last week.”

Sophie’s voice is muffled as she speaks into May’s shirt. “But you never do sleepovers anymore.”

“I have a lot of work, now that I have a different job, so it’s harder for me to do sleepovers. But I’m here tonight, right?”

“Yes!”

Melody is the next child to appear. She arrives at a more sedate pace, waiting for her sister to detach herself from Auntie May before she holds her arms up for a hug. “Hi, Auntie May. I’m so glad you’re here.” She smiles sweetly, like only my little Melody can. I’m so proud of her for not laying a guilt trip on her aunt.

May’s face melts a little. “Oh, sweetie, I’m really glad to be here, too. I think it has been too long since I got my cuddle on.”

Sammy arrives last, carrying an armload of toys. It’s a miracle he didn’t tumble down the stairs head over heels with the pile he’s got. I glare at his sisters, because they should’ve helped him out. I wasn’t there, but I know exactly what happened. They left their little brother up there to fend for himself so that they could be the first ones to hug their aunt. I have no idea why it’s such a competitive sport with them.

“Do you need some help, Sammy?” I ask.

“No. I have my toyth. I’m very thtrong.” He’s a foot away from May when he opens his arms and drops everything in a giant pile. Pieces of toys along with whole action figures scatter in all directions like shrapnel from a bomb. He walks over to his aunt and holds his hands up in expectation.

May puts Melody down and takes Sammy into an embrace. He clings to her like a baby monkey, wrapping his arms around her neck and his legs around her waist, burying his face in her chest.

Her arms wrap around him and squeeze. She closes her eyes and inhales the scent of his hair. “I missed you, Sammers. Nobody gives little boy hugs like you do.”

“My hugth are the betht, aren’t they?”

“They’re not better than mine,” says Melody, frowning at her brother.

May is too sly for their games. “Sammy, you give the best little boy hugs, and Melody, you give the best little girl hugs, and Sophie gives the best big girl hugs.”

Sophie rolls her eyes. “I knew you were going to say that.”

Attempting to head off an argument, I speak up. “Okay, kids, who’s ready to go have some dinner?”

Sammy wriggles out of May’s arms and drops to the floor, running over to grab his Spider-Man and Superman action figures. “I’m ready!” He holds them both out in flying position, Superman head first and Spider-Man butt first. Sammy has told me many times this is how Spider-Man prefers to get around, and I’m not one to argue; I really don’t know him that well.

Melody raises her hand. “Me! I’m ready!”

Sophie rolls her eyes. “Whatever.”

May reaches over and tickles Sophie’s neck, making her giggle a little. I can tell my daughter would rather not be reacting like that, but May knows her sensitive spot.

“What’s up with this whatever stuff?” May asks my oldest. “Since when are we saying whatever to each other?”