The Place to Be

Addie

“AND . . . VOILÀ!”

Margot pulled the sheet off the first whiteboard.

Then the second.

And the third.

And I sat next to Eliza, who was sitting between me and Deanna, pressing my lips together and alternately watching Margot and glancing at my sister out of the corners of my eyes.

I knew exactly what would happen.

And it happened.

I watched my sister’s face light up . . .

“Oh, Margot!” she cried, jumping from her seat, rushing to the first whiteboard and pointing at a picture. “That’s the dress I had my eye on!”

“Excellent,” Margot declared, walking to that whiteboard and ripping the pictures of the five other dresses she had on there from it, and the clips from bridal magazines drifted to the ground.

I looked to Deanna.

Deanna looked to me.

Her chest was heaving with suppressed laughter.

Mine was too.

“There’s a bridal shop in the city,” Margot went on. “They have that in stock to try on. I’ll make an appointment. We’ll go after the new year. They’ve told me, once it’s ordered, it takes four to five months to have it made. With alterations, we have no time to spare.”

“Do you think we can get this limo?” Izzy asked, pointing to a picture of a classy-ass, black Cadillac limousine.

Shoop!

Shoop!

Shoop!

The three other limo pictures that were on the whiteboard floated to the ground.

I snorted.

“Girl,” Deanna mumbled under her breath.

Izzy and Margot did not hear us.

“That limo is available from a company in Bowling Green,” Margot proclaimed. “Consider it booked. I’ll also book two more, one for the bridal party, and one for David and myself and any other special guests you might have.”

“Oh my, do you think Macy can find those peach roses?” Izzy gushed, gazing with wonder at a photo of a bouquet.

Shoop! Shoop! Shoop! Shoop! Shoop! Shoop!

I pressed both fists hard into my belly.

Deanna reached across Izzy’s chair to grab hold of my knee like it was a lifeline.

“I’ve already been in touch with her. There’ll be an additional charge to what we’ve already put a deposit on when we gave her our preliminary ideas, but she assures me she’ll have no problem locating them,” Margot asserted.

“My hair . . .” Izzy turned to Margot. “I think I want it looser.”

Shoop! Shoop! Shoop! Shoop! Shoop! Shoop! Shoop! Shoop! Shoop!

Gone were all of the updos that Margot had pictures of on the whiteboard.

“We have time for hair and makeup. We’ll schedule tryouts of that . . .” Margot walked to her day planner, flipped it open, shuffled through pages then reached and grabbed a Swarovski pen and tapped a page with it, looking up at Izzy, “late June. That gives you time to change your mind and have another run-through just to make sure.”

“Perfect!” Iz exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

I got up and started to pick up the discarded clips from the floor.

“Adeline, if you would, please, arrange those by category,” Margot requested. “I’ll be filing them and if Eliza wants another look at something, I want it handy what she wishes to see.”

“No probs,” I muttered, grinning to myself and still gathering.

I continued to do this, and alternately sit with Deanna, who was shoving the stuff in different plastic envelopes Margot gave her, for the next thirty minutes as Iz and Margot pared the three whiteboards down to two.

I also did this surreptitiously sending a text to Tobe, saying, This is even more hilarious than I thought it would be.

Toby texted back, Not surprised. Do I gotta tell Johnny he needs to sell a kidney?

Before I could reply, Margot ordered, “No outside distractions, Adeline.”

“Sorry,” I muttered, even though my presence there, so far, had been unnecessary, outside a happy witness to the hilarity and picking up rejected wedding ideas from the floor.

When she and Izzy got down to deciding when to do the cake tasting, I managed to send, I’m not allowed to text. Fill you in later. Please, God, don’t reply. I’ll get in trouble. Love you!

I hit send just as Dave strode through, obviously saw the void whiteboard and thus called, “Thank God. Now can I put that danged thing away?”

“We’re not done,” Margot replied.

“Margot, I’m half an hour from going to the airport to pick up Lance and his family. We’re gonna have ten more people in this house between now and tomorrow morning. We need space.”

“You can go get Lance, and when we’re done, I’ll put it away,” Margot said.

“No you will not,” Dave bit out.

Deanna, Izzy and me went still at his tone.

“David—” Margot began.

“You’re not done before I leave, Lance and me will put it away. You don’t touch that board, Margot,” he ordered.

“Okay, darlin’,” she said quietly.

Dave stalked off.

I looked to Iz who looked to me then to Deanna, who I looked to before we all turned to Margot.

“Let’s sort this out,” Margot stated, all businesslike, and completely ignoring that out-of-character behavior from Dave. “We’ll need focus come January and we have to know what we’re focusing on. But everyone has things to do today, therefore we need to get cracking so it can all get done.”

She was not wrong about that.

It was Christmas Eve’s Eve and my schedule was garbage.

Michael had hired some extra help, but except for one of them, they were all flaky.

This meant I’d been doing hints of overtime here and there all week, including three hours on Tuesday, which was my day off, and three hours that morning, Friday, which was my other day off.

And I had to work until six tomorrow, Christmas Eve.

The good news was, money was money and I needed it, and taking an extra hour at the end of a shift or working for a few and having the rest of the day off was no skin off my nose.

The other good news was, I had most of the day off that day to do this wedding business and then get ready for my night with Toby.

Izzy had taken a couple of days off to have a chill Christmas, so she was taking Brooks (who was right then napping in Margot’s guest room) and he was spending the night with his Aunt Iz and Uncle Johnny while Toby and I went to Lora’s party (then got it on at his place after).

And I was really looking forward to it, most of all looking forward to hitting Tobe’s after this and getting ready there since we were spending the night there.

I had not had the opportunity to do that since the night of the snowstorm and our avowals of love. But his place was more my gig, it was also just his place and I liked to be in his space.

So for me, until nine thirty the next morning, I had nothing but goodness to look forward to.

This wedding meeting was just the first part of it.

Sadly, it was over all too soon, but after Deanna took off, Izzy and I hung with Margot until Brooks got up.

We let him go from sleepy to lovey, and then after lots of snuggles from his mom, Iz and my boy took off.

But I hung back.

Because I wanted to chat with Margot.

“Don’t you have a party to get ready for, darlin’?” she asked.

Translation from Margot Speak: My firstborn is going to be here soon, my second born is showing later tonight, and my last born is driving up first thing in the morning so I have a million things to do. Hit the road.

“Just wanna make sure you’re all good. Lots of folks hitting your place, you need anything?” I asked.

“I had everything sorted last week, Adeline, but thank you for offering.”

I studied her face.

She looked no different.

But she was a dab hand with makeup and never had a hair out of place, so that didn’t mean anything.

I didn’t know how to say it seemed Dave and she were sniping at each other, that I’d never heard Dave speak to her in the tone he’d used earlier, or even thought he was capable of it due to the fact he worshiped the ground she walked on, and that there was something off about this required-attendance wedding meeting the day before Christmas Eve.

Especially when the date was set, the church was scheduled, the reception venue was booked, Macy and the bakery had preliminary deposits to save the date for whatever Eliza chose, and come January, we had nearly seven and a half months to sort out the rest.

“Are you and Tobias all right?”

Her question made me focus on her.

Her question also made me smile at her.

“Yeah, Margot, we’re great.”

She smiled back at me, reached out and took my hand.

“I knew he’d choose someone like you,” she said softly. “Full of vim and vigor and vivacity and audacity. Just like Eliza with Johnny, you not only match his spirit, you complement his soul.”

I stood in her foyer with her, my fingers curled around hers, and stared in her eyes, warmth rushing through me.

“I love that you think that,” I whispered.

“I like to think that God had a hand, linking me to your mother. He did this so she raised you girls to suit my boys, and I raised my boys to suit her girls.”

Oh hell.

I was going to cry.

“None of that, Adeline,” she gently chided, shaking our hands. “Everyone is happy. Smiles. Just smiles. Yes, my beautiful girl?”

Was she happy?

I didn’t ask.

And I didn’t ask even if I didn’t see that normal Margot Light warming her eyes.

I smiled at her again and said the only thing I could.

“Yes, Margot.”

“Now,” she guided me to their door, “you enjoy tonight. And remember, once my brood leaves, Dave and I are always happy to take Brooks. In the first blush of love, getting to know each other, it’s good to have times like tonight. Don’t ever hesitate. I feel thirty years younger, having a baby in the house.”

“You have my boy in your house a lot now, Margot,” I reminded her.

She shook my hand again, this time once, firmly. “And I’m grateful for it. Adeline, you’ve had cause to know me well. And with what you know, do you think I’d ever say something I didn’t mean, especially about something as important as Brooks?”

She would not.

“Toby and me kinda like having him around,” I replied. “But I also love having nights like this with Toby, so I’ll take you up on that, and you promise to share if it ever gets too much.”

She put her free hand over her heart. “I promise.”

I shook our hands then, after kissing her cheek before letting her go, grabbed my coat that was on a hook by her door, put it on and blew her another kiss on my way out the door.

She stood in the doorway and we both waved at each other until I was coasting away.

I drove to Toby’s and hit the garage door opener he gave me the morning after the night I’d spent at his house, my phone beginning to ring before I shut the car down.

I took it out, saw I didn’t know the number, but since I’d put in a few applications the last couple of weeks, and interviewed last week at the law firm, I took the call.

“Hello?”

“Adeline?”

“Yes.”

“This is Marlon Martin. At Martin, Sandberg and Deats.”

Oh God.

This could be good.

Or it could suck.

“Hello, Mr. Martin.”

“Please, call me Marlon, and I’m happy to be making this call as my partners and I would like to offer you the receptionist position here at the firm.”

I banged my fist with glee against the ceiling of my car, but my voice was cool when I replied, “That’s great news, Marlon. I’m thrilled.”

“Excellent, I’ll email you the offer. Have a look, take the holiday, but if you could get back to us on Monday with your decision. Our current receptionist will be leaving us the third week in January, so we need to move swiftly.”

“I can do that, Marlon. And thank you. You’ve made my day.”

“Delighted to hear that, Adeline. My secretary is sending the offer just now. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you too.”

We hung up. I hauled ass out of my car, grabbed my bag from the passenger seat, then scooted into the house, hitting the garage door button.

I dropped the bag right there and phoned Toby.

“So you survived the mandatory wedding meeting,” he said in greeting. “Or is this an SOS call?”

“I got the job at the law firm!” I yelled.

“No shit?” he asked, a smile in his voice.

“Yes!” I confirmed. “They’re sending an offer letter just now.”

“Brilliant, baby,” he murmured.

“This is great. This is amazing,” I chanted, doing a little jig. “I mean, I know how to use a computer and a phone, but I don’t have any office experience, except that time I worked for six months in patient billing at a doctor’s office. But that bummed me out since it was oncology, so I didn’t stay. Toby! I can’t believe it!”

“Cool, baby. Told him to give you a shot. Glad he’s doin’ that.”

I was about to do another jig.

I didn’t.

“Sorry?”

“I know Marlon. He was a couple of years before Johnny in school, but he played football since he was a kid, and Dad was involved in Pop Warner, and he and Johnny played on the same team in high school. So I’ve known him a long time. He was getting some gas at the garage last week, saw him, walked out, had a chat.”

“You . . .” I swallowed hard, “had a chat.”

“Babe—”

“So I didn’t earn that job? I got it because I’m fucking a Gamble brother?”

“Addie—”

“No, unh-unh. No.”

Toby went silent.

I stared at his kickass great room.

All wood and windows with comfy, macho-man leather furniture, a big kitchen (that was a lot more wood, but with stainless steel appliances) that was totally open to the space, running flat against the back wall with a long island in between.

It looked like a dude purchased it four months ago. A dude who had been a drifter before that, and hadn’t gotten down to roosting, so there wasn’t a lot of personality.

But even me, the minimal decorator, saw the potential.

The whole place was sweet.

But the master bedroom upstairs was what it was all about. Two full walls of windows, a corner fireplace, a private balcony you got to through French doors, and with the flora outside, it was like sleeping in a tree house.

A luxury one.

If the choice came about mingling households officially, I’d pick Toby’s place for Brooks and me to live. It was only two bedrooms (and a loft on the third story), probably smaller in square footage, but it was more me than the acres.

Him and me.

And the retro Christmas lights and the wreath would still work.

“You got a lock on that?” Toby growled into the string of thoughts I let myself have rather than losing my fucking mind.

But he was growling, and not the good way.

Okay . . .

How could he be pissed?

“Toby—”

“That’s the way shit gets done, oh, I don’t know, pretty much fuckin’ everywhere,” he bit out.

I was absolutely not a fan of the sarcasm.

I did not get the chance to share this.

Toby kept at me.

“You know somebody, you put in a good word. Trust me, every applicant for that position, if they knew somebody who knew Martin or Sandberg or Deats, and they caught one of them, they did the same.”

“Okay, but—”

He spoke over me.

“This isn’t small-town shit. This isn’t Gamble brothers shit. This is what you do. You need that job. You wanted that job. It’s decent pay. Good insurance. Steady hours. In Matlock. They would not hire you if you didn’t impress them. They’re not morons. And I didn’t offer them free oil changes for life. I said you were a hard worker. Smart as fuck. And he’d be able to count on you. I absolutely mentioned you were mine, so he could read from that that I got you, so it isn’t about pity for the single mom. But you’re a Gamble and my father coached him in Pop Warner. So this is also about respect and history. I did not lay it on thick, but he understood me. And that’s it, Addie.”

“You got me?”

“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered.

My voice was rising, and yes, it was perhaps a little hysterical when I asked, “I’m a Gamble?”

“You at my place yet?”

“Yes.”

“Right now, walk to the guest room,” he ordered angrily.

“Why?”

“Do it, Adeline.”

I walked up the stairs to the guest room.

The door was closed.

I opened it.

One wall of windows. Much smaller. Its own bathroom.

And right then it was partially filled with a crib and a baby dresser and changing table.

There wasn’t a lot of personality there either.

Except the most adorable crib skirt, the mattress covered in a baby-blue sheet, and there was a blanket over the railing on the side that was like the skirt—blue bears, some black arrows and teepees, all on white.

“You there?” Toby demanded in my ear.

“Yes,” I forced out.

“Surprise. And Merry Christmas.”

I closed my eyes.

“Now, are you a fucking Gamble?” he asked.

“Toby.”

“What are we doin’ here? Tell me, Addie. Are you just fuckin’ a Gamble brother?”

Okay, I’d apparently hit a nerve with that.

“I just wanted it to be about them wanting to hire me.”

“And again, if they didn’t want you, they wouldn’t have hired you. But like you said, you have little experience in an office and I just wanted to remind them that historical ties bind if it was between you and someone else. You might have knocked their socks off. You have a way of doing that. You’re confident and radiate ‘I’m a chick who can get shit done.’ But in the end, does it fuckin’ matter? ’Cause in the end, you got the fuckin’ job.”

He was right.

And that sucked.

“I’m sorry, Tobe, my response wasn’t cool.”

“You got pride. Shit has been so copacetic with us lately, I forgot your independent streak. Which is not a bad thing for you to have, and it’s part of why I fell for you, just that I can’t forget it and gotta have a mind to it. So I should have told you I saw him and put in a word. Though, Addie, the minute you mentioned that job, I was already thinking of doing that. So I should have told you then.”

“It’s not on you I reacted like a bitch.”

“Yeah, it is, ’cause I know you. So maybe you shouldn’t have reacted that way, but you wouldn’t have if I’d told you what I was gonna do.”

“Still, Toby, I’ll get a lock on my independent streak when you’re trying to do something nice for me. Or at least talk things out before I say something bitchy.”

It took a minute before he muttered, “Obliged.”

I pulled in a deep breath and said carefully, “Um . . . the crib?”

“I want you in my bed and I don’t want us to have to fork Brooks off on someone else to have you there. I also like my place, so I like to spend time there, and when I do and I got Brooks, I want him to feel at home. But bottom line, he’s part of what we got, and he didn’t have space in my space. Now he does.”

While he spoke, I walked into the room and was standing at the crib, running a hand over the blanket when he was done.

“You were gonna show this to me when you got home, weren’t you?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“I ruined your surprise,” I whispered.

“It’s fine.”

“It isn’t. This blanket is insanely cute, and I feel the need to share how much I like how cute it is and do that in person.”

“I’ll be home in an hour. You can blow me after I get out of the shower. And I’m takin’ you wherever you wanna go to eat to celebrate you getting that job before we hit Lora’s. Deal?”

I smiled at the crib. “Deal, Toby.”

“Love you, babe. See you soon.”

“Love you too, honey.”

We disconnected.

I traced a blue bear in the blanket with my finger.

You’re a Gamble.

“Those boys really do not fuck around,” I whispered.

Toby had bought a crib.

And sheets.

For my son.

To be in his house.

As much as I loved that—and make no mistake, I seriously loved that—a thought I hadn’t thought in a long time came crashing into my brain.

It was a thought I had to think.

And it was a situation I had to deal with.

I finished tracing the bear, went back down to get my bag, and took it upstairs to shower grocery store smock smell off me and put in the work to glamorize myself for Toby.

“I need to talk to you about something.”

“Shoot.”

I was sitting on the other side of the black granite countertop in Toby’s (mostly) all-wood bathroom while Tobe stood at the basin (one of two) that he used, slicking product into his crazy-awesome hair.

He was wearing nothing but black boxer briefs.

It was post-shower (for him and me, though I was already ready), post-blowjob (for him, which meant my carefully coiffed hair was now sex hair and I hadn’t gotten any . . . yet) and now he was getting down to business getting ready.

The mystique of Toby being all things Toby had been explained over the weeks we were together. He had one product for his hair and he trimmed his own beard.

It still managed to be a mystique.

I could get caught up in watching it unfold (easily), but I wanted to get the heavy out of the way so we could go on and have a great night.

“I read the offer. They explained it’s due to experience they’re offering me the low end of the salary range. And I’ve done the budgets. If I take it, it’ll cover all necessities. But it won’t leave much left over for things like food and clothes and stuff. I couldn’t start up Johnny’s payments again, and I’d probably have to ask Margot to do daycare full time, which, nothing against Margot, I’m not sure it would be good for Brooks. He needs to be around other kids. Learn to share. Shit like that.”

“Then don’t take it,” Toby said, running his comb under the water in the sink to rinse the texturizing clay from it.

“Well, during the interview, they said that one of their secretaries is going to be retiring next fall and they like to promote from within, so if I got the job, and I was interested, she could start training me right away. I looked up legal secretaries’ salaries. They make good cake. Like, serious good cake. And that sounds all kinds of interesting to me, learning about the law and working close to an attorney. And like you said, it’s in Matlock. I won’t have to work weekends. I won’t have to worry about leaning on anyone for wonky hours to watch Brooklyn. But I don’t think making cards is going to catch that kind of slack.”

He turned to me. “Babe—”

I lifted a hand. “Before you say it. I’m going after Perry for child support.”

He shut his mouth but opened it again right away to say, “I need jeans for this shit.”

I sucked in my lower lip and bit it.

He went into the master closet (which was the shit, all railings and drawers and slanted shelves so you could see your shoes, killer).

He came out buttoning up some jeans, and apparently he needed jeans for this conversation, but not a shirt, which worked for me.

He came right to me, put a hand on the countertop on each side of my hips and his face in mine.

“Okay, hit me,” he invited.

“It’s Christmas and Perry hasn’t called. He hasn’t done anything at all to keep up with Brooklyn, and I don’t just mean child support. So I think I should find time to call him, remind him it’s Christmas, tell him his son is fine, remind him about his monthly visits and his support obligations, a soft lob that, if he continues to ignore his son, later will help me clobber him with suing for support.”

I lifted my hands and put them on either side of Toby’s neck.

“It’s the right thing for Brooklyn,” I told him. “I should try. For my son. But more, he’s Perry’s son too and it’s just simply not fair I’m shouldering this all on my own, leaning on you, on Iz and Johnny, on friends.”

“It isn’t—”

I squeezed his neck. “No, Tobe, I’m good with it. I know no one minds. But it’s not right. He’s supposed to send six hundred and twenty-five bucks a month. For me and Brooks to live at Izzy’s, with food, half-week daycare, and nothing else, it’s over two thousand. He’s going to grow, need clothes, books at school, eat more food, play Pop Warner, I don’t know. It’s just going to get harder, and I’m not the only one who made him.”

“Yeah,” Toby agreed.

“I don’t know if he’ll ever pay. I don’t know if he’ll ever start seeing his son regularly. I just know I have to try. That job at the firm, if Perry paid, we wouldn’t be rolling in it, but I could take care of my son. Even set something aside so if we hit anything ugly, we’d have a cushion. But it isn’t just that. I have to try to get my son’s father in his life, and if he doesn’t father up, okay. That’s on Perry. But if he does, and Perry gets his shit together, at least for his boy, then Brooks will have his dad.”

Toby’s face was carefully blank, even if his voice was warm and encouraging, when he said, “Whatever you need from me, you got it.”

But I was stuck on his blank face.

“Do you not think it’s the right thing to do?” I asked.

“I think you’re his mom and you’re the only one who knows what’s right for your son.”

“And I think you’ve been more of a father to him than Perry even before we got together, so I’m honestly asking your opinion.”

“That’s right,” he replied.

“Trying to get Perry to see his son and pay support?”

“No. That I’ve been more of a father to him than that asshole has ever been.”

It was me who went silent at that.

“Addie,” he pushed off his hands but didn’t move away, though he did slide my hair off my shoulder then run a finger down my jaw, “bottom line is, you’re his mom. You have to do what you think is right. I don’t think it’s bad to call him at Christmas and remind him he has a kid. Just check in. Let him know Brooks is doin’ good. Then maybe think on the rest and call him again after the holiday if he doesn’t pick up or call back.”

“I’m not . . . I’m not . . .” I stared up at his face and forced myself to push it all out. “I’m not sure that’s the bottom line.”

“What’s the bottom line?”

Blue bears and teepees and Toby pushing down that thing on the stroller with his boot because he’d done that before.

Repeatedly.

“What are we doing here?” I whispered.

His head jerked. “Getting ready to go to dinner.”

“No. What if Perry never comes back?”

“It’ll suck for Brooks, and we’ll have to handle that so he doesn’t have issues like me with my mom. We’ll have to do somethin’ like what Daphne did with you and Izzy because it doesn’t seem you got issues around your dad. Keep him happy, loved and whole.”

We’ll have to handle that . . .

We’ll have to do somethin’ . . .

We’ll . . .

Keep him happy, loved and whole.

I took in a mammoth breath.

Then I asked, “If you and I go all the way, and Perry stays absent, would you consider adopting him?”

His brows shot together. “When we go all the way, and if that fuckwad keeps bein’ a fuckwad, I’m going to adopt him.”

Oh my God.

Holy shit.

Oh my God.

I couldn’t breathe.

“Addie?”

I had a hand up to him like I was fending him off, one at my throat, which hurt like fuck, and I was fighting for breath.

Both his hands were cupping my jaw and his face was in mine when he demanded, “Adeline, what the fuck?”

“You love him,” I wheezed.

His brows shot together again, not looking perplexed, looking ticked.

“Yeah, I love him. Jesus, Addie, I bought a fuckin’ crib and changing table for him. I was thinkin’ of makin’ that into a poker room. Can’t do that if I only got one extra bedroom and a kid who needs his sleep.”

Oh my God.

Holy shit.

Oh my God.

My head dropped of its own accord and then planted itself in Toby’s chest.

“Jesus, Addie,” he repeated on a whisper.

I saw the first tear land and wet my jeans with a dark dot.

My shoulders heaved with the effort of holding more of that wet back.

“Jesus, baby,” he said softly.

Then I was up in his arms and we were out of the bathroom, and I was down again, held close to him, his back against his headboard, me in his lap and tight to his chest.

He’d carried me to a bed before, once, when Perry tore me apart.

And damned if it didn’t happen again, months later, when Toby put me back together.

Damn.

I couldn’t stop it.

I tilted my head back, shoved my face in his neck and sobbed.

“Addie, honey,” he cooed, “you’re ruining your makeup.”

“I do-don’t care,” I wailed.

“Okay,” he murmured, holding me with one arm, running his fingers through my hair with his other hand.

“I-I-I’m gonna try just once, for Christmas, with Perry. If he doesn’t pick up or call back, I’m done with him.”

“Okay, Addie.”

“He-he’s got a dad. He might not have his father. But Brooks has already got a dad.”

“Yeah.”

That easy answer made my body hitch painfully, I shoved deeper into his neck, and cried harder.

“It’s not that big a deal, honey. He’s not a hard kid to love,” Toby murmured soothingly.

That made me yank my face out of his neck and put it in his.

“Yeah? So where’s his father?”

“Okay, baby.”

“Perry’s never fed him breakfast.”

“Okay.”

“Perry’s never shoved that thing down with his boot that locks his stroller.”

“Okay.”

“Perry’s never given him a bite of his caramel cashew chocolate cluster.”

Toby shoved my face back in his throat and crooned, “Okay, baby. Okay, Addie. Just calm down and cry it out. Hmm, honey?”

My breath snagged about fifteen times as I drew it in to try to calm down. It hurt, so I stopped trying, just cried it out, and eventually that calmed me down.

“You good?” Toby asked when I was down to snuffling.

“Yeah,” I mumbled.

“Take the job. You’re probably gonna be livin’ here sometime in the next few months anyway. Means expenses will take a dive and it’s all gonna be okay.”

God, that made me so happy.

For so many reasons.

“Okay,” I agreed.

“You got ties to the acres I gotta worry about?”

“Your house is dope, Toby. And it matches my bathroom accessories better.”

He chuckled and gathered me closer.

I lifted my head out of his neck and caught his eyes.

“Sorry I got all hysterical.”

“You let him go and you finally came to understand how in I am with you, and the only woman I ever saw who loved her children like you love Brooks was Margot, so I reckon that kinda thing would bring on some hysterics.”

I nodded, once again happy that Toby had it going on and was so wise.

“Waterproof mascara?” he asked.

“Did it hold up?”

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, Addie. Normally. Dolled up. In the morning without makeup. Taking my cock. Coming. And also crying. Prettiest crier I ever saw.”

“Shut up,” I muttered, grinning at him.

He grinned back but declared, “I’m not joking.”

I lifted a hand, ran it down his beard at his cheek, tugged at the end and said, “I love you loads, Talon McHotterson.”

“And I love you loads back, Lollipop McGorgeouson.”

I started laughing slow, more, more, until I was giggling myself sick in his arms.

McGorgeouson.

My guy was funny.

Toby held me in his arms while I did it, smiling at me.

Eventually, we had to get up so I could see if he was correct about the damage, we could celebrate my new job, I could phone Izzy and share (also telling her I might need to raid her wardrobe for a while, not to mention check in on my kid) and we could start the Christmas festivities with a new friend.

So we did that.

But I did it thinking it was the second-best day of my life.

Though there was something uniquely special about it.

And this was the fact I knew, after all that, the entire day, from waking up to Toby, to Margot and the wedding boards, to the crib and changing table, to the revelation of how in Toby was with Brooklyn and me, those kinds of days would keep coming.

“Oh my God! You are my hero!” Lora shouted the minute she saw us walk into her cute, crackerbox house in town.

She then started clapping.

And she was looking at Toby.

“What the fuck?” Toby said under his breath to me.

Lora came our way, still clapping but ended it with her palms together, brought her hands to her forehead, and she did a few half bows to him before she stopped.

“Uh, hey, Lora, Merry Christmas,” I said, offering her the bottle of wine with a big bow that we brought.

Toby had the red cellophane bag with the last quarter pound of our nut clusters (a difficult gift to give up, for all of us) tied in a green bow.

He didn’t offer it.

He (and I) were watching Lora laugh.

She stopped doing that, took the wine from me, and proclaimed, “No, I’m not drunk. And no, I’m not on other substances. And last, no, I’m not crazy.” She focused on Toby. “I just heard you gave Jocelyn hell for being Jocelyn, and hun, when I heard that, it was like Santa came early.”

Ah.

“Happy to be of service,” Toby muttered, sounding uncomfortable.

“Dude, do not go there,” Lora advised then pointed at herself. “She stole my boyfriend in fifth grade and my prom date my junior year.” She turned and pointed across the room. “Sheree, told everyone she had chlamydia, so the state-winning, one-hundred-meter butterfly champion didn’t ask her to homecoming.” She looked to me. “And you know those swimmers’ bods. Oowee.”

She made another turn and pointed.

“Brandy, also boyfriend theft.” Another shift of her pointed finger. “Carolyn, stole all her clothes at gym so she had to walk to the school offices in a towel. Bea,” she leaned to us and whispered, “got her fiancé blotto and blew him in a place Bea would see them three weeks before the wedding.”

“Holy crap,” I breathed.

She lifted her hand and spelled out different letters as she said, “Totally see you next Tuesday.” Again, her attention went to Toby. “When I heard you called her a bitch and said she was even bad at faking it, I think I laughed for three hours straight. She was into you in high school. She was into you after high school. You were her Holy Grail. And she got to the cave with the old dude, grabbed the wrong goblet, aged a thousand years and turned to ash. She chose . . . poorly.”

With that, she started cackling.

I couldn’t help it, I started laughing with her.

It took time, but she got control of herself (and so did I).

And then she said something for which I’d be forever grateful.

“I mean, everyone knew you were the cool Gamble brother, but with that, and uh . . . other stuff,” her gaze slid to me then back to Toby, “you proved it irrevocably.”

I felt Tobe had gone solid at my side.

“Not that Johnny isn’t cool, but I mean, you got it goin’ on,” she finished hurriedly. “When she heard you were coming tonight, Bea wanted to make you a fake key to Matlock and present it to you. Jocelyn works in the city. Rumor has it she’s looking for places up there so she can move. So, uh . . .” she seemed to belatedly read his vibe, “at the very least, let me get you a beer.”

“Great,” Toby said kind of tightly.

“Come on. There’s lots of food too,” she invited. “I’ll show you.”

We followed her, and as we did, I looked up at Toby.

He was watching the back of her head like he couldn’t tear his eyes from it.

I didn’t have the shot to ask after his state as she led us to a little dining room.

She was right. There was a lot of food.

“Wow, impressive spread,” I noted.

“I’m completely incapable of letting anyone leave my house feeling anything less than bloated, but I’m going for that dude in the Monty Python movie that exploded. That’s a warning. I mean that not just at Christmas, when it’s a moral imperative to eat until you explode, but even when I have my semi-annual Magic Mike nights,” Lora told me.

I again started laughing.

She led us to a sideboard that was covered in booze and big tubs of alternate drinks.

“Beer.” She waved her hand over a tub. “And what can I get you, Addie?”

“Beer is good for me too,” I said.

She put the bottle of wine down that I gave her and assessed our faces as she touched bottles, pulling out our preferences, snapping the caps and handing them to us.

“Koozie stash at the end,” she said.

“This is for you,” Toby told her, offering the chocolates.

“Oh no you didn’t! Yay!” she cried, taking them. “I have to hide these. Immediately! Be right back.”

Then she took off.

I turned right to Toby.

“You good?”

“Guess the mild qualms I had that I was a colossal dick to Jocelyn are gonna go away. Even I didn’t know she was that big of a bitch.”

“You had qualms?” I asked.

“Babe, I was a colossal dick.”

That was so Toby.

I leaned into him and he put his arm around me. “You’re a Christmas hero.”

“Whatever,” he muttered, his lips hitching, then he sucked back some brew.

“And you’re the cool Gamble brother.”

His eyes came down to me.

“And you so totally are,” I finished.

“Focus on the shit, gotta learn,” he said.

“Sorry?”

“You focus on the shit. The shit people say about you. The shit people feed you. And when people treat you like shit. Focused on that with my mom, focused on that with crap people would say about me. Didn’t focus on Margot thinkin’ I could do anything. Dave and Dad bein’ proud of me. Even with Johnny, when it was mostly all good, I focused on the big brother thing that was annoying the fuck out of me.”

“Even I thought that last was a bit much,” I told him. “And you know I adore Johnny.”

“Yeah, but I knew who I was and what I was doin’, and I’ve always known that. Fuck anyone else.”

I leaned deeper. “Yeah. Fuck anyone else, baby.”

He grinned down at me.

“Oh God, you’re loved up,” Lora said after she returned. “I’d want to spend the rest of the night after everyone left plotting your murders out of sheer jealousy if you guys weren’t June and Johnny, that being the one with the last name of Cash. Though you have better hair,” she said to Toby. “And so do you,” she said to me. “And that’s saying something because those two could do hair.” She looked around muttering, “Your sister and your brother are Goldie and Kurt. Totally. Now where did I put my wineglass?”

“You didn’t have it when we first saw you,” Toby told her.

“Right!” She snapped her fingers in the air. “The other room! Be back.”

“You don’t have to entertain us,” I said.

“Sister, we need to talk,” she replied. “First, I open up the new year, obviously, with Magic Mike, the third Friday in January. Pencil that bitch in. It’s the official initiation ceremony for everyone in the posse and since our second showing doesn’t happen until July, you gotta come to the first one. Second, my cousin has a sixteen-year-old who is dying to buy a car, so she needs babysitting jobs. She’s a good kid. Totes responsible. Honor roll. Class officer. All that jazz. I’ll set up a meet and you can suss her out, and if you need her for your little cutie, she’d love me forever. Next, take your coats off for goodness sakes. Dump them on the bed in my bedroom, And last, I just need my wine. Be back!”

Then she took off.

“She’s making me tired,” I whispered on a smile.

“She’s fuckin’ hilarious,” Toby did not whisper.

“Do you want to take our coats off and stay awhile?” I asked. “Or down this beer and get out of here?”

“Tobe! Hey, man!” a male voice called from the room.

“Coats off. Stay awhile. Suss out a babysitter. Make a friend. And I’m eating every last one of her peanut butter cookies with the Hershey’s Kisses shoved in because I’m still not down with giving her the last of our nut clusters, and I feel the need to get mine back,” Toby replied, shrugging off his jacket.

I shrugged mine off too.

“Hey! Cool you’re here,” the same male voice said as Toby took my jacket.

Toby introduced me. Then said he had to get rid of our jackets.

Someone else came to us and took them away.

Toby introduced me to that somebody else too.

And it was then Toby stood by the drinks and held court, maybe not getting he was doing that, standing there in all his handsomeness, coolness and mystique, a treasured son of Matlock, town royalty, and simply just the guy, maybe one of all of two in the whole county who could show at a Christmas party and make a fun ’do the place to be.

And while he unknowingly did this, I stood in the curve of his arm, sipping beer, chatting, and wondering if I should tell him.

I decided to find the right time to tease him about it.

And I sipped beer in the curve of the arm of town royalty, enjoying a Christmas party.

The place to be.

The party had been fun.

And I was glad we stayed.

Even as long as we stayed.

Because it was, as I mentioned, fun.

Also because we stayed long enough to decimate Lora’s peanut butter and Kisses cookies.

Now I was glad to get home.

Have caveman sex with Toby.

Sleep by his side.

Get up, sort the apps for Christmas Eve, do my shift, and then start Brooks and my first Christmas in Matlock.

With Toby.

Okay, so I had a few presents to wrap still.

But what mom worth her salt didn’t stay up late Christmas Eve wrapping presents?

And anyway, Tobe and I had already had a present-wrapping night.

He was hopeless.

But he was good at putting his finger on the ribbon and handing me tape.

Though we wrapped presents like we did everything.

Addie and Toby style.

This meaning not to the strains of Bing.

But to Rammstein.

I’d done it.

What Izzy had done.

I’d worked hard.

And built the life I wanted for me.

So, it was a work in progress.

But so far, it was working for me.

Seriously.

“Jesus, shit.”

The words were said and then I felt the mood in the cab turn oppressive right before Toby braked to a halt almost at the end of his drive.

“Jesus, shit,” he repeated.

I stopped gazing out the side window, ensconced in my happy thoughts on my way to imminent orgasms, and looked to him.

He was staring out the windshield.

I turned that way.

There was a car in his drive. A sedan. I couldn’t tell the color, but it was dark.

A woman was standing outside it.

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“Jesus, fucking shit,” Toby rumbled.

“Baby, who . . . is . . . that?”

“I’m not sure. Haven’t seen her since I was three. But I think that’s my mother.”

My head snapped around to look out the windshield.

Jesus.

Fucking.

Shit.