Chapter Twenty-Four
Jesse
After
“What’s for dinner?” Tommy said as he came strolling over to the counter.
Once the kids had come home from school, I’d sent them to their rooms to finish their homework, so their night would be free. It was our first evening without Emery and I had every second of it planned until it was time for them to go to bed.
I smiled, anticipating his reaction. “Stuffed shells.”
“Yes!”
I waved my hand in the air. “Come here.”
As soon as he reached me, he wrapped his arm around my waist and I pressed my lips to the top of his head, inhaling his scent. We stood just like that—my fingers clutching a spatula, the timer going off on the oven, my phone beeping with a message. None of it mattered, only him.
He gave me three beats, that was it, and then the moment was over. But right before I pulled my lips away, I said, “Go set the table and fill the glasses with ice and water. Dinner is going to be ready in five minutes.”
He groaned a little, eventually heading toward the cabinet that held the plates. In the meantime, I ignored all the notifications on my screen, and sent Viv a text, telling her to come downstairs to eat. Leaving my phone somewhere on the counter, I grabbed the pot holders and took out the shells.
This was a meal Emery and the kids had loved from the very first time I’d made it. I worked so much, I never had time to cook, so they all considered it a treat when I did. Since work was no longer a problem, I thought this would be a good night to serve it.
I put the salad I’d made into three bowls and brought those along with the casserole dish to the table. It took two trips, but by the time I was done, Tommy was, too, and Viv was just taking a seat.
“Oh yes, it’s shells night,” she said when she saw what I was scooping onto the plates.
I handed each of them dishes and passed the garlic bread.
“Mmm,” Viv groaned. “I had this last week at Trever’s house and it didn’t even compare to yours, Mom.”
Trever, the boy she had gone to see when his parents weren’t there. The one she had done nothing with because I had seen it all over her face when she returned home for dinner.
We’d raised unbelievable children.
“Mom,” Tommy said, looking up from his plate. “I’ve missed your cooking so much.”
“I’ve missed it, too,” I admitted. It wasn’t that I loved my time in the kitchen. It was knowing I was feeding them something good, that I was giving them a meal they would enjoy. That was the rewarding part about cooking.
“Now that you’re home, I say you make this once a week,” Viv said.
I covered my mouth after a bite. “I’m sure I can arrange that.”
“Sometime soon, you’re going to have to teach me how to do it all,” she continued. I stared at my daughter, trying to piece together what she was saying. “Since there’s going to be a kitchen in the basement of our dorm, if I ever get the chance to go grocery shopping, I want to know how to make something.”
Oh God.
My little girl.
Once she was gone, she’d never come back. I didn’t. I stayed in Boston every summer between school years, not wanting to return to the quiet town in Maine where I was from. Viv would crave the city once she spent a few weeks there. Vermont would become far too still for her.
I wondered how her father would handle that.
I shivered at the thought and said, “The next time Dad goes to Boston, let’s do a cooking night. We’ll go to the store and get the ingredients, so you’re comfortable with that part, and then we’ll make it together. How does that sound?”
“Sounds fun,” she replied.
“What’s planned for tonight?” Tommy asked.
I’d thought a lot about how I wanted to spend my first night home alone with them. I’d considered taking them sledding or ice skating, shopping or to the movies—all things they loved. Instead, I chose something we hadn’t done in a long time, at least not the way I was going to suggest it.
I set down my fork, my stare moving between theirs. “I thought we could go in the jacuzzi.”
Tommy’s head turned in Viv’s direction, then back at me. “Don’t even tell me you want to go snow dipping?”
Emery had built our jacuzzi on the back deck that overlooked the mountains. Off that large space was a set of stairs that led to the backyard. In the winter, when the kids were younger, we used to rush down the stairs and dive into the massive snow banks. Once our skin turned raw and red, we would rush back up the stairs and climb into the hot tub, burning from the difference in temperature. As they got older, they began to do it with their friends. It had been a few years since either of them had gone hot tubbing with us.
“Would you be up for it?” I asked them.
“Oh my God,” Viv laughed. “If you’re willing to jump, then of course we’re up for it.”
“I want to go right now,” Tommy said, his fork clanking as he dropped it on the dish.
“Both of you need to finish your dinner.” I took a bite of my garlic bread. “Once you’re done, we’ll clean up, rest for a little bit, and then it’s on.”
They laughed at my change in tone, two of the most beautiful faces staring back at me.
I could have been more creative with tonight’s plans. Charlotte had brought the kids to a pottery class and I wasn’t even taking them out of the house. But I was spending time with them. Quality time. When I stepped back from Cinched, this right here was what I wanted.
I was finally getting it.
And it was perfect.