“Hey, I swear because I care.”
Grant cleared his throat. “For your information, I’m fifty-one inches tall, not one foot or some shit.”
Austin chuckled.
“Grant, we do not curse; it’s wrong.” I sounded like a freaking grown-up. Score.
Grant pointed. “But he did.”
“Well, Austin’s usually the wrongest of all wrongs, so don’t listen to him.”
I hopped on behind Grant.
Austin leaned against the fence. “Where are you both off to?”
“Mr. Jax is taking me to see a cow poop.”
Austin doubled over with laughter. “Classic. When you’re done checking out the crap, Jim did some grilling and wants you both to join us.” Austin looked at Grant. “You like Bar-B-Q, dude?”
“Yes!” Grant clapped excitedly.
Austin raised a brow. “Well, maybe you’re okay after all. I was beginning to wonder about you.”
Dinner at Daisy and Jim’s was a hit, as I knew it would be.
Once back at my place, I tucked in my new little friend before cracking the door, leaving the hall light on, and running up and down the stairs for water and snacks five times. Turns out I’m a sucker for a cute kid.
Once I was sure he was sawing logs, I headed for my comfy leather sofa, Netflix, and a Coors Light. Somewhere between Tulsa King and New Girl, I conked out. I woke up about an hour later in the dimly lit living room to find little Grant asleep next to me.
* * *
Once the sun woke, I rolled into the kitchen and whipped up a breakfast I was certain Grant would like before he appeared at the table.
“This is the bestest French toast ever!” he squealed between bites. But I was already aware of my mystical French toast and the delight it brought others. Not Abby, though, she wouldn’t risk unnecessary calories. She worried about extra pounds hopping on her because she was on the news. A local station here, but now she was off to Minneapolis.
One quick ride on Lola and Katie arrived to take Grant back to his foster family. There was a tug in my gut when a huge grin made its way across his lips, and he waved and blew me a kiss. I shuffled back into the house that was suddenly too quiet before scrubbing the skillet when Daisy blew in the door.
“Good morning, Jax.”
She shook her head, a wide grin splitting her face from ear to ear. “You’ll never believe what’s happened! It’s fantastic!”
“A distant family member croaked and left us a butt-load of cash? The scratch tickets paid off?”
“Even better!” She leaned against the center island, rolled up a piece of French toast, and dipped it in the rich syrup. “Jim called and said Madison is coming! Zoey is flying in before the wedding, but Madison will be here tomorrow. We’ll have almost a full week with her before the wedding.” She jumped up and down with genuine glee. “She’s had a hard time reconnecting with Jim, so the extra time with her dad will be a good thing. And the fact that she’s changed her mind and is coming to the wedding is amazing!”
I flashed an insincere smile, trying not to look irritated. It was none of my business, butfrom everything I’d heard about Madison she sounded like a piece of work, to put it as kindly as possible.
Zoey had visited last year, and she and Jim kind of started a new relationship, but Madison wouldn’t come. Daisy made sure she, Austin, and I were out of town on business so Zoey and Jim could have some undistracted time together.
Zoey told Jim Madison wasn’t ‘ready.’ Since when does life revolve around being ‘ready’? Was I ready to start mending fences today and training a horse who was a pain in my ass? Hell, no. But I do what fuckin’ needs to be done, and you know what? It’s hard work, but you pull yourself up by the bootstraps and get it done. I guess that’s not true for a spoiled party girl. Had sheeverhad to put in a full day’s work?
To top it off, she initially sent back a “decline” response to her father’s wedding. No phone call or message, just the equivalent of a middle finger. WTF, right?
“Here’s the thing, she’s flying in tomorrow, and Jim won’t be back from South Dakota until after her plane lands, and I have a mammogram I really don’t want to reschedule, but I could if I had to. Unleeess… Would you be able to pick her up?”
I heard myself groan, but after the breast cancer Daisy had ten years ago, I sure as hell didn’t want her to reschedule anything. But only a rich, self-centered chick would book a flight with a one-day notice, not even considering other people’s schedules.
“Don’t reschedule. I’ll do it.”
