I turn to the kids and clap my hands. “So, who’s ready to make some pizza?” Quinn and Elle shout that they’re ready, and I spy Peyton looking away. I can’t force her, but I’m going to try. “Okay, Quinn, take Elle into the kitchen and get the stuff out to make pizza. I want to talk to Peyton a little bit.”
I watch until they disappear around the corner. Quinn has made pizzas with me many times so he can at least pull out everything we need. I move toward Peyton and climb the steps until I’m about three away from her.
“I know we don’t know each other very well, but I thought maybe you could help me make the pizza crust. I always end up being a hand short and since I only have two and need an extra, would you mind helping?”
Peyton turns slightly and runs her finger along the wood grain on the step. I take her silence as a giant no.
“Well, if you change your mind, we’ll be in the kitchen.”
I have no choice but to leave her. She has to come around on her own. I know that if I force her, she’ll never become my friend.
Quinn has the flour and yeast out, along with a large mixing bowl. He’s a pro and can probably make the dough with his eyes closed.
“Do you guys make your own pizza?” I ask, as I slip an apron on.
“We tried, but Mom isn’t very good at it.” Quinn says, causing my heart to skip a beat. So many times we wanted him to say the word ‘Mom’ to someone and be able to mean it. Lord knows his biological mother is a lost cause.
We work as a team making dough, mixing sauce, slicing pepperoni and grating the cheese. Quinn is a little chef, and Elle is eager to learn. Every few minutes I check on Peyton, and every so often she’s moved down a step. Quinn makes sure to make her a pizza just the way she likes it, and I marvel at how well he’s adjusted to having siblings.
I’m pleasantly surprised when Peyton decides to join us at the dinner table. We eat in silence minus the praises of how good their pizzas have turned out.
“So, do you want your mom and dad to have another baby?” Three pairs of eyes find mine and if I didn’t know better, I’d think I’m in one of those horror movies where the children slice up the babysitter.
“No!” all three reply in unison before they go back to eating. I make a mental note to ask Katelyn their plans because if a baby is in the future, they might want to try family counseling first.
I tell the kids not to worry about the dishes, and for them to go change and meet me in the family room. I microwave a few bags of popcorn and dump it into two bowls. The family room is probably the coziest place in the house. A large sectional couch takes up most of the space, with beanbag chairs spread around. They have a huge television, which takes up half the wall. All three of them come down in their pajamas, carrying blankets.
With the movie in, I sit down only to have Quinn crawl up and snuggle in next to me. He’s my best bud, and I’ve missed him. He makes me want to move closer, but I’m just not sure I can. The girls chose the first movie, some Disney musical. Quinn balks at first, but it doesn’t take him long to start singing along.
The loud knock on the door scares all of us. The girls let out a yelp, and my heart starts thrashing in my throat. Quinn runs to the door before I can stop him. I get there just as he opens it and find Xander, the incredibly good-looking trainer with the I-want-to-bend-you-over-my weight-bench-and-have-my-way-with-you eyes. I swallow hard when he realizes that I’m checking him out. Shoot me for staring, but I’m a female who can appreciate the fine art of a good-looking man.
“Hey, uh… is Harrison here?”
“He’s out with my mom,” Quinn answers before I can say anything.
“She’s my mom, too,” Elle adds as she comes up behind us.
Quinn rolls his eyes and corrects himself. “Our mom.”
“Oh… all right.”
“Wanna come in?” Quinn is asking before I can even get a single syllable formed in my head.
“Um…” Xander looks over his shoulder, and I can’t help but look, too. Does he have someone in his car? I can’t see anyone and when he turns back around, our eyes meet, and I find it hard to look away. When we were in the gym this morning, I tried to ignore what my body was telling me. He’s a professional, and today I was his client. But now my body is screaming at me, telling me to appreciate the man in front of me. I’m staring. I’m taking in his well-defined arms and allowing my eyes to trace the intricate art that makes up his full sleeve. My stomach decides to tie itself into intricate knots; increasing the welcomed anxiety I haven’t felt since the first day I met Oliver. Xander is taller, broader than what I’m used to. His dark hair is kept short but styled. His eyes are as blue as the ocean, and I can see myself staring into them for hours.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts and end up laughing. He looks at me with his eyebrow raised. I’m such a fool.
“Please come in,” I say, knowing that I’m going to regret this moment for the rest of my life.
Quinn opens the door wider to allow Xander to step in and slams it shut immediately. The kids run back to the family room and Xander follows. His cologne is strong and overtaking my senses. I try not to let it affect me, but the truth of the matter is, it does. Maybe this is my wake-up call solidifying the fact that my decision to part ways with Oliver was the correct one.
Xander sits at the opposite end of the couch and my evil spawn of a nephew decides that he wants to sit on the floor.
“Sorry about the movie choice,” I offer, in the lamest attempt at conversation ever.
“It’s fine, I’ve seen this a few times.” And to prove his point he breaks out in his own rendition of Let it Go, which causes the twins to start laughing. I laugh as well and end up busting out what must be the loudest snort in the history of snorts.
I can fade away now and die from embarrassment.