Читать книгу Gathered Up - Annabeth Albert - Страница 17

Chapter 8

Dear friends, longtime reader Reba writes, “You have so many gorgeous sweater patterns for men. Which do you suggest I knit for my new boyfriend?” No, dear Reba, no. Unfortunately, I’m here to tell you that the curse of the boyfriend sweater is real. I listen carefully to the ladies in the shop and at Knit Night, and everyone, including yours truly, has a horror story of the sweater gifted too soon. May I gently suggest limiting the number of skeins required for your gift to the number of years you have been together? And for goodness’ sake, put a ring on him before you gift him a sweater. —Evren’s Yarnings

Given Renee’s general stubbornness lately, I shouldn’t have been surprised when she showed up at six on a Knit Night with Jonas in tow.

“I tried to see if Carlos’s mother would take him,” she said, bypassing any attempt at a greeting. Carlos was Jonas’s best friend, and his mother was already doing me a huge large by taking him the weekend I had the barista contest. The twins were going to their best friend’s house that weekend as well. Not that Renee couldn’t handle the kids for a weekend in theory, but she had a geology overnight field trip that weekend. And even if she didn’t…Renee couldn’t be trusted not to pull stunts like this.

That night the twins were going on a birthday dinner and kid movie date with their best friend, and Renee and I had had an argument the night before about how Jonas could not be home alone while she went on a study date. She’d asked if he could come hang out at People’s Cup, something we’d had to do once in an extreme emergency, but I couldn’t have that on Knit Night, when we got so crowded.

“Look, I can give you guys some soup and bread for dinner before you head home, but Renee, I told you to break the study date.” I kept my voice firm, but I knew my parental tone didn’t work on Renee. Neither of us had signed up for this, but we were a team. And our team had rules—like no boys over while she had the kids. We’d had some issues early on with her friends distracting her from the kids’ needs. “Look, I’ll hurry home. You can do a late-night study date. And I’ll do the getting ready for school by myself tomorrow.”

“Why don’t you want me to be happy?” Tears filled Renee’s eyes. “This is the nicest guy I’ve ever met, and I keep needing to put him off to take care of the kids.”

Join the fucking club. But of course I couldn’t say that in front of Jonas. I’d planned to be even later than usual by sneaking in some quality Ev groping. That so wasn’t happening now. It didn’t matter if Ev was the nicest guy or the sexiest or the sweetest—the kids came first, something Renee just couldn’t seem to grasp. In the two weeks since our lunch date, Ev and I had managed exactly one other quickie, a lot of nonsexy phone calls, one furtive sext session, and another whispered late night of phone sex. Renee needed to take a number in the I’m-entitled-to-see-my-friends sweepstakes.

Her tears spilled over and my chest squeezed tight. She was still so much a kid herself. I knew I’d regret it, but I rubbed her arm. “Fine. This one time, Renee. This can’t become a habit. If someone complains, I could get fired.”

“You won’t!” She waved, already backing out of the store before I could change my mind. Eventually, we needed to have a long, painful chat about this new behavior of hers. I was barely functional as a caregiver for the little kids. I had no clue how to parent a teenager. I tried. I laid down rules, but lately she just blew through everything, like today.

I didn’t allow myself the luxury of missing Mom very often, but right then, I missed her so much my eyes squished shut and my hands clenched. She would know the right thing to say to Renee. But me? I had no clue.

I set Jonas up in the very rear of the shop at a tiny table almost no one used, with strict instructions not to leave his chair.

However, I underestimated Violet and her furniture rearranging crew, who came in a few minutes early. The triplets were wearing what appeared to be purses masquerading as tank tops—thick, bulky yarn in a weird tapestry pattern with leather straps. Even Portland’s penchant for the weird couldn’t make those acceptable fashion choices, but I was more concerned with their looks and clucking.

“Who lets a child come to a coffee shop on his own?”

“Do you see a parent, Violet?”

“We always use that as the head table.” The triplet in the fuzzy olive-green tank shook her head sadly. “Maybe someone should report he’s here on his own.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. I was going to have to confess he was with me and that was not going to go well—

“Ah! Young Jonas! You were dropped off early? How kind of you to wait for me.” Ev breezed past the triplets and Violet. I wasn’t sure how much of their judgy conversation he’d heard, but he sent me a smile as he effortlessly bailed me out. “You will sit next to me, yes?”

Jonas studied his iPod, chewing on his lower lip. Please say yes, I tried to beam at him. If he balked, this wasn’t going to work. Finally, he nodded. “Can I have a hot chocolate?”

Way to negotiate, kid. “Of course. Let me go order.” Ev smiled at him.

Because Ev the almighty had spoken, the women transformed into the other type of hens—coddling Jonas and making sure he was all set next to Ev’s usual seat.

“Everything okay?” Ev asked in a low voice as he came up to the counter.

“Yeah—” I started, then stopped. This was Ev, the one person who might get it. “No, it isn’t. Renee couldn’t watch him. He can’t be home alone—”

“Of course not.” Ev nodded. He’d heard enough Jonas stories from me on the phone that he understood Jonas’s special needs in a way Renee didn’t seem capable of. “You should have called me. I am thinking about doing some children’s classes and projects at the store.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” My chest expanded at how ready he was to help me. Ever since Mom died, it had been only me and Renee, with no one to call for backup. Hadn’t even occurred to me that Ev and I were that kind of friends—the hey-I’m-in-a-jam kind—but I guessed we were. It felt weird. I’d spent so many hours trying desperately not to need help, to prove to the social workers and the doubters that I was up for the task. But every time I vented to Ev, it felt like a crane knocking away another chunk of concrete from my shoulders.

“It is nothing.” He waved the praise away.

“It’s not. And I’m sure Mira agrees—bet she’s thrilled you’re doing more with the store. Everything okay?” I wasn’t sure exactly how to ask how Mira’s treatments were going. Ev never wanted to talk about them on the phone. I hoped eventually he’d let me reciprocate his willingness to help and open up about his worries about Mira like he had that night in the kitchen.

“I will be around a bit longer. It is okay, though—only some minor setbacks. It is not like I am in a rush, and I’ve thought about doing classes for a while. In fact, I’m going to run back over, get him some big needles and thick yarn—”

“I’ll pay,” I said, my throat all thick and tight.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Ev waved the offer away. “He is my test case. We must see if I am capable of teaching any young people to knit before I start charging for it. He is doing me a favor. You will see.”

Fifteen minutes later, Ev was back with a large ball of yellow yarn—Jonas’s favorite color—and some thick wooden needles that looked pricey even from a distance and a sign-up sheet for Knit Night members who would be interested in a children’s class. Leave it to Ev to turn my misfortune into an opportunity and further sell the Knit Night ladies on his brilliance. In fact, not a single person complained about Jonas, and Violet and the triplets doted on him. To my surprise, Jonas preened under all the attention. He was a typical middle kid at home—quietly enduring the chaos of the twins as they demanded all the energy Renee and I had to give. But here, he was laughing and actually talking as Mira slipped him pieces of the cookie she was supposed to be eating.

She looked tired and frail, and I felt bad that Ev was distracted with teaching Jonas instead of focusing on her. I said as much when he came up for more hot chocolate for Jonas.

“He is the best medicine for her. Not much I can do anymore.” Ev shrugged helplessly. It was the most he’d admitted about her condition, and my teeth clenched hard around expressions of pity he neither needed nor wanted.

He turned back toward the table, and we both watched as Mira praised Jonas’s efforts, straightening his grip with her own trembling hands. Ev’s eyes flickered with heavy shadows, and I longed to rub his shoulders, get some of the tension out, maybe gift him with a nap to relieve some of the circles under his gorgeous dark eyes.

Ev turned back to face me, making an obvious effort to smile. “Now, what should I order for me?”

“Decaf latte,” I said with a grin. I might not be able to give him a nap with a happy ending like I wanted, but I could make him smile.

The initial drink rush was over, so I could take my time, and I did a careful latte art just for him—a little sweater and two knitting needles.

“I love it.” Ev’s smile made me want to make him dozens of lattes.

“We are not quite to the sweater gifting stage, though.” He said the last bit like the punch line to a joke I should know.

“Knitting humor?” I asked.

“Something like that.” He winked at me as he collected the drinks and headed back to the table.

As the evening wound to a close, I came out from behind the counter to help put the tables back.

“So, what’s the verdict? Is Ev a good teacher?” I asked Jonas.

“The best. See what I made?” Jonas held out a scrap of lumpy knitted fabric. “It’s going to be a blanket for my guinea pig.”

“You’re not getting a guinea pig.” All three kids were desperate for a pet, but with my hours and their schedules, it so wasn’t happening. Jonas looked at me like I stole the last chocolate bar and I sighed. “Sorry, buddy. Maybe someday.”

“It would make a lovely coaster for a pot of tea,” Mira said faintly.

“Can I at least have a teapot? One that plugs in?” Jonas asked. Kid didn’t even drink tea, but that was how his brain worked—an errant comment from Mira and he was off to the races. All that boiling water and the kid with no impulse control? My insides went all wobbly at the thought. “How about a water pitcher?”

“I think I’ll take Mira home, get her settled while you close up,” Ev said, touching my shoulder. Even that small contact had me wanting to sink into him. “But then I can come and give you a ride home?”

“You don’t have to.” It would be a long trudge without a skateboard for Jonas, but we’d done it before.

“I want to.” Ev looked right at my mouth as he said the words. “And you do not work Sunday night right? I want to cook for you again.”

My whole body went hot at the memory of the last time Ev had cooked for me. When I’d finally eaten the food on my break, each bite had been laced with the memory of his kisses. I wasn’t sure whether he meant cook or cook, but I had to shake my head.

“It’s Brady’s birthday!” Jonas fairly trembled with excitement. “And we’re going to the zoo in the morning. Like last year. And then we’ll help him make the cake!”

“It’s your birthday?” Ev made a tsking sound, like I should have told him sooner.

“Yeah.” Truth was, I didn’t need a big fuss. Last year, Mom’s death had been fresher, and my birthday had been more about giving the kids something to get excited over and feel connected as a family about than something for me. But as I’d found out, kids love making traditions out of things. So zoo and a cake it was.

“Jonas? Do you think your plans could include dinner at my house?” Ev spoke directly to Jonas. Manipulative, brilliant bastard. “If you want help making the cake, you could come early. Or you can bring the cake and I will do dinner.”

Jonas considered his options with a very adultlike furrowed brow. “We’ll bring the cake. Do you know how to make whipped cream?”

“I do indeed,” Ev said solemnly. “Now, what is Brady’s favorite food?”

“Brady loves all the Turkish stuff you’ve made me,” I interjected before Jonas could request pizza or spaghetti, both of which were his favorites.

Jonas thought for a minute. “Nothing too weird. And lots of bread. The floppy kind you had with the soup.”

“Consider it done. Lots of bread. Maybe kebab? That’s meat on sticks?”

Jonas nodded. “We’ll bring him to you at dinnertime. He doesn’t want presents unless we make them ourselves.”

“That I can most certainly do.” Ev’s eyes sparkled.

Later, as he drove us home, I said quietly, “You don’t have to make me something. And the kids are going to exhaust Mira. And it’s not like we’ll be able to—”

“One more and and I’m going to make you barley water and knit you something unmentionable out of fake fur,” Ev grumbled. “It’s your birthday. People want to do nice things for you. Your job is to let them.”

“All right. Although I’m intrigued by the fake fur—”

“Hush. We do not speak of such atrocities.” Ev did an exaggerated shudder as he pulled up by the apartment building.

“Thanks for the ride,” I said, checking my phone to see a message that the twins were on their way home as well.

“Any time.” Ev spent a long moment looking right at my mouth, his eyes furrowed, like he was doing some complicated calculus about whether or not to kiss me good night.

I solved the issue for him by leaning in to brush a quick kiss across his lips. Damn. Even the briefest contact with Ev’s mouth had all the sizzle.

“Call me later.” I gave him a heated look promising all the whispered dirty talk he could stand. And yes, that was totally what my game was reduced to these days.

“Is Ev like your boyfriend?” Jonas asked as I grabbed my skateboard from the back of the car.

I waited until we were on the path to the apartment to answer. “Not exactly.”

“But you both like kissing boys right?” Jonas pressed.

“Yes. We both like kissing boys.” Oh, if only Ev saw it as simply as a ten-year-old.

“I don’t want to kiss a boy.” Jonas made a sour face as he considered the prospect.

“When you’re older, you can kiss whomever you’d like, as long as they want to kiss you back,” I said carefully, ruffling his hair.

“Ev kissed you back.” Jonas gave me a sly smile. “I think you guys should be boyfriends. I like him.”

“I like him too.” I sighed as I opened the door to the apartment. I like him far, far too much.