Wyatt would be home from his latest touring weekend soon. Gypsy had picked Belle and Cooper up from her mother-in-law’s house early so Wyatt could come straight home. His parents had enveloped Cooper instantly as their grandson, and nowadays, where Belle went, Cooper went. Wyatt loved walking in the door and having the kids run at him, thrilled with his return. And it warmed Gypsy’s heart every time she watched their reunion. But right now, she felt like she’d bitten off more than she could chew.
At the counter, Belle put away her math homework and pulled out a sheet of paper with what looked like three centipedes on it, words tilted haphazardly inside the bodies of each.
“Oh, I hate these,” she groaned, dropping her chin to the counter and slouching her shoulders.
“What is it?” Gypsy asked, while she leaned down and made what felt like a herculean effort to lift Cooper in her free arm. The boy grew so damn fast.
“Alphabetical order.”
Gypsy handed Cooper a few spaghetti noodles, then covered his hand with her own. “Slide these into the pot, but make sure you don’t touch the water, or you’ll burn yourself.”
“I wanna help,” Belle said with an if-he-gets-to-do-it-I-should-too tone as she climbed off the stool at the counter and hurried around to Gypsy’s side.
“Honey, it’s a little too hard to let you both help when Cooper isn’t feeling well.”
Cooper lost all interest in the noodles and laid his head on her shoulder. Cuddling was all he wanted right now, and she understood, but dinner was underway, and Wyatt was already headed home, so she stayed the course, even though she wanted nothing more than to turn off the stove, dump dinner in the trash, and pass out on the sofa with the kids.
“I can do it,” Belle insisted. She moved to another counter and returned with the bottle of marinara.
“It’s not quite time for that yet, honey.” Good God, she felt like her body was leaching fatigue from her bones.
She tried to set Cooper down, and he started screaming and kicking. Gypsy held on to him and straightened but tightened her arm around him and gave him a stern look. “Stop that. There’s hot water right here. That’s dangerous.”
Which caused his face to crumble and her boy to melt into tears.
Pain stabbed her heart, and Gypsy closed her eyes on a soft “Jesus Christ.”
Crash. The marinara bottle landed half on her foot, half on the floor. Pain rocketed through her toes, and hundreds of glass slivers scattered across the hardwood. The sauce sprayed the gray cabinets, splashed up Gypsy’s light-blue jeans, hit her face, and caught in her hair. She glanced at Belle, who looked even worse, sauce everywhere.
Everything went silent. Cooper stopped crying and Belle stood, wide-eyed, both hands over her mouth. Gypsy closed her eyes and exhaled through gritted teeth. She wasn’t angry, but she really was overly frazzled, which pissed her off, because she was bigger than this, better than this. She could handle way more than a couple of kids and a broken jar of sauce. Yet, she wanted to scream and sob at the same time.
“I’m sorry.” Tears edged Belle’s voice. “I’ll clean it up.”
“No.” Gypsy caught Belle’s arm. “No, don’t move, honey. There’s glass everywhere, and you’ll cut your feet.”
She looked up at Gypsy, helpless, now also on the verge of a meltdown.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay, honey. It’s just a jar of sauce. We’ve got plenty more. I just don’t want you to get hurt. Stay right there,” Gypsy said. “I’ll get it.”
She had socks on and carefully picked her way across the kitchen and opened the pantry door, looking for the broom and a dustpan. Even as she reached for it, Belle joined Cooper in sobbing misery, and Gypsy realized the mix of glass and sauce was going to be way more complicated to clean up than she had hands for at the moment.
“Mama,” Cooper whined. “Belle made a mess.”
“It was an accident. It’s okay, accidents happen.”
Belle’s cries turned to squeals, the kind that made fear cut through Gypsy’s chest. She pivoted to find the water boiling over the side of the pot and running down the stove to the floor. But Belle obeyed Gypsy’s earlier order and stood frozen.
“Shit.” Gypsy hurried toward Belle, only remembering about the glass after dozens of shards tore through her socks. “Ow, ow, ow.”
She flipped off the burner and swept Belle up in her free arm just before the boiling water reached Belle’s bare feet, then retreated to a far corner of the kitchen, breathing hard, her brain numbed from the confusing event. Not because the broken pasta sauce or the boiling water or even the upset kids were confusing, but because her brain was so clouded with fatigue, nothing made sense.
Gypsy’s tired body gave out, and she slid down the cabinets, landing on her butt with both kids in her lap. She joined the other two and started to cry, which only further upset Cooper and Belle.
As fate would have it, Wyatt chose that moment to walk through the front door. Gypsy laughed, then cried harder.
“I’m home,” he called with glee filling his voice. “Where are my little monsters?”
Both kids squirmed in her arms to get loose, but Gypsy held on tight. “No, no, you can’t run on the floor. You have to stay here for just a few more minutes.”
“Here, Daddy.” Cooper had started calling Wyatt Daddy even before he and Gypsy were married. Belle still called him Wyatt most of the time, but even she slipped into calling him Daddy more and more as time passed. And God, the gleam Wyatt got in his eyes when they called him daddy thrilled Gypsy’s heart.
Hearing Cooper use the phrase now made more tears slide down Gypsy’s cheeks just as Wyatt came around the island and found them.
“Oh my God. Is everyone okay?” He moved toward them, and glass crunched under his shoes. He looked around as he crouched, taking in the mess. When he met Gypsy’s eyes, he could read her it’s-just-a-clusterfuck-no-one-is-hurt expression. And he started laughing. Which made Gypsy laugh. And Belle and Cooper laugh.
When he stopped, he wiped his eyes and met Gypsy’s with a sparkle of mischief. “Looks like Mama’s been cooking again.”
Gypsy managed to reach out and slap his arm.
“Come here, you little monkeys.” Wyatt took a kid in each arm, then gave Gypsy a stern look. “Don’t you dare move.”
He told Belle to grab a kitchen towel as he passed the counter and settled the kids in the family room in front of the TV while Gypsy wiped her face with both hands. She was so exhausted, she didn’t even have the strength to get up. Wyatt returned and crouched in front of her wearing a smile that twisted her heart, one filled with humor and love so deep, she couldn’t fathom a bottom.
“Dinner got a little out of hand, did it?” he asked.
Gypsy laughed, pushing more tears out of her eyes.
“Girl, you’ve got pasta sauce everywhere. If those munchkins were in bed, I’d lick every last drop off you.”
He reached up and pulled a kitchen towel from the counter and started gently cleaning her face and neck.
“How’s my sugar?” he asked, his voice gentle and sweet. “Are you hurt, or just a hot mess?”
Laughter bubbled up again. “I’m a serious mess.”