“Yes,” I say softly. “That’s me.”
“We got skates and a helmet,” he says. “I can let both of them go for two hundred,” he says, and I close my eyes.
“Thanks for letting me know.” I hang up the phone and try to think of ways that I can pay for it, and I literally can’t. There are so many things coming that I have to pay for, especially my phone.
After turning everything off and then tucking in the chair, I walk out into the daylight and hear Dylan laughing. I turn and see that Justin has him over his shoulder like he’s a sack of potatoes while he tickles his stomach. “Okay, fine, fine, you’re better than Matthew.”
“You better say that,” he says, and then he spots me. His eyes light up, and his smile gets so big. “There’s your mom.” Justin puts him down, and Dylan runs to me. I almost go back a step, but I hug his head, leaning down to kiss his wet head.
“Mom,” he says. “Justin is a grasshopper.”
I look up at Justin, who just groans. “He was in the car when my brother called, and he calls me grasshopper.” He walks over to us and towers over me and leans down and kisses my cheek. “Did you have a good day?”
“Um …” I say. My cheek’s still tingling when he puts his arm around my shoulder and walks me to the SUV while Dylan hugs my waist. He goes on and on about what he did, talking a mile a minute, and I just want to savor it.
“I’m starving,” he says right before climbing into the back seat, and Justin opens the passenger door for me. “Mom, can I have a whole pizza to myself?”
“No,” I answer the same time Justin answers, “Sure.”
“He’s never going to eat the whole thing.” I look at Justin, who shrugs.
“He can have it for a snack later,” he says, and I climb up into the vehicle.
“What’s going on right now?” I whisper as I watch Justin walk around the front and get in.
“We are going to get pizza and spaghetti,” Dylan says from the back, and Justin looks over his shoulder.
“What did you say?” he asks, starting the SUV and putting his seat belt on.
“Mom was asking what is going on,” he says, and Justin looks over at me. “Mom, I got new stuff.” I look at Justin, who slips on his shades and makes his way out of the neighborhood and onto the highway.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I say softly, and he looks over at me.
“I know I didn’t, but I wanted to,” he says, and I just nod at him and look out the window.
I watch the city come into view, and when he turns down one of the richest streets in the city, all I can do is look at the skyscrapers. All of them are so tall, and the sun reflects off them, making them look like mirrors. He slows down when he gets to the tallest building and then pulls into the underground parking area. I look at Justin. “The restaurant is right across the street.” I open the door, and he gets out, and Dylan is already getting out of his seat.
Justin walks a little ahead of us, and Dylan holds my hand while we follow him. I spot a sign that says for residents only, and I stop walking. “You can’t park here,” I say, pointing at the sign.
“I’m pretty sure I can since I live here,” he says, and at that moment, I’m reminded of how so very different we are.
Chapter Fifteen
Justin
I see her face change when I say I live here as she looks down at her clothes and then looks up at me again. “Let’s go,” I say, walking back to her and putting my hand around her shoulders. I let my arm hang lightly even though I want to pull her into me.
“You live here?” Dylan says, smiling when we walk to the elevator, and I press the up button.
“I do,” I say, and I’m praying like fuck that the elevator gets there before she bolts. I watch her every move as she tries not to make eye contact with me, and she looks around and sees all the brand-new cars. Thank fuck I didn’t tell her that the four cars I parked next to are mine. The ding of the elevator makes her look forward, and I’m not sure this is better.
The inside walls of the elevator are all mirrors, and the floor is a light gray marble. Pressing the lobby button, I hold my breath as the doors open, and then I put my hand on her lower back to usher her out. She hasn’t dropped Dylan’s hand, and if she wasn’t with Dylan, I wonder if she would try to make a run for it.
I watch as her eyes take in the room, and I wonder what she’s thinking. Turning left when we get off the elevator, I walk past the security desk. He spots me and stands, showing you the uniform of a black jacket and white shirt. “Good evening, Mr. Stone.”
“Hey, Bob.” I smile at him. There are a total of six security agents who work during the week. “Nice day, isn’t it?”
“It is,” he says, and I just walk toward the glass door past the big round marble table that holds a vase of flowers with four chairs. It’s the waiting area. You don’t get past security if you are not on the list.
“Does that guy block people?” Dylan asks when we walk outside, and the heat hits me right away.
“Yeah,” I say. “The restaurant is just on the corner,” I say, turning to walk toward it.
“Why?” Dylan asks me.
“Why what?” We walk in sync, but I feel her stiffness next to me.
“Why does he block people from seeing you?” I love that he is so curious. He is always asking questions and always trying to figure out puzzles.
“Well, you know I play hockey, right?” I ask, and he nods. “Well, sometimes I don’t play good, and then you have people who want to come tell me that. I don’t mind if they tell me at the restaurant, but I don’t want them coming to my door.”
“And you don’t want to hear it.” He nods his head. “I would do the same.”
“Yeah, that’s it,” I say. I don’t tell him it’s because people push their limits and just decide it’s okay to knock on your door to get you to sign a shirt or a stick. It’s amazing that I’m being paid to do what I love, but there are times and places for that, and my home isn’t one of them. It’s a piece of me that no one gets to see unless I want them in my space.
“Here we are,” I say, pulling open the door, and the smell of pizza hits you right away.
A hostess stand is located right in front with a blonde and a brunette standing behind it. One of them notices me right away and perks up. “Hi there,” I say. “A table for three in the back if possible.”
“Sure thing,” the blonde says and looks at her screen and talks to the brunette as they discuss where to sit us.
“It smells really, really good,” Dylan says, and I look at him and smile and then look at Caroline who now has her hands folded in front of her stomach.
“Wait until you try the pizza,” I tell Dylan, and then I hear my name being called.
“Look at this.” I turn and see Lara, the owner, come over to me, and I lean down to kiss both her cheeks. “You look too skinny,” she says, slapping my stomach. “We need to put some meat on those bones.”