I pulled my long blond hair up into a high ponytail as I emerged from the bathroom minutes later, and padded down the hallways to the front of the warehouse.
This warehouse had been the home of our grandparents’ business when Jagger and I were growing up, but had been cleared out and left to Jagger when they passed since they didn’t trust our mother to hold on to it.
I didn’t blame them.
Our grandparents had left their money equally split among our mother, Jagger, and me. While Jagger used a chunk of his for college and remodeling the warehouse into a place to live, our mom had blown through her third within two years of their passing. For years after, she tried to swindle Jagger out of his, and had even gone after Grey for money when she had spent most of Husband Number Eight’s money.
But we hadn’t seen or heard from Mom in a year and a half, and as awful as it sounded, our lives were better for it. She had never been a parent, only a person who brought endless heartache, and flitted in and out of our lives for as long as I could remember.
Jagger had raised me. I still had him and Keith. I didn’t need anyone else.
My smile from earlier returned when I found Jagger and Keith play-fighting in the living room with Aly crawling after them.
I sniffed dramatically and asked, “Is that burnt water I smell?”
Jagger paused and sent me a sarcastic look. “Ha h-uh! Time out,” he wheezed as he slowly fell to his knees, clutching his stomach.
Keith’s smirk was victorious. “For always beats Loki, Mommy!”
“Of course he does, especially when he takes a cheap shot,” I said teasingly, and pulled him into my arms.
“What’s that?” Keith asked, excitement dancing in his eyes at the thought of learning something new.
“It’s what you just did to Uncle J.” I forced back the laugh that was begging to be released when I glanced at Jagger, now lying on his back, still holding his stomach with one hand and attempting to stop Aly from flopping on him with the other. I directed my attention back to my son and whispered, “Can you do something for Mommy?”
Keith nodded vigorously, his blue eyes even brighter. “Yes!” he whisper-yelled back to me.
I squatted down to whisper in his ear, and loved the way he wiggled with anticipation. “Can you go say you’re sorry to Uncle J for taking a cheap shot?”
He deflated, and when I pulled back, was giving me a look as though I’d just crushed his dreams. “I guess,” he said with a sigh, and trudged slowly over to Jagger. With the same look and sigh, he mumbled, “Uncle J, I’m sorry for taking a cheap shit.”
“Oh gosh,” I groaned, and dropped my face into my hands as Jagger barked out a laugh. “Stop laughing,” I hissed, then looked back up at Keith. “Baby, it’s shot. Cheap shot.”
Keith shrugged. “That’s what I said!” He looked between Jagger and me, and I could tell he didn’t know if he should start laughing as well, but the confusion held out. “Does this mean I didn’t beat Loki?”
“Nah, you definitely won this one, bud,” Jagger said, his words still laced with amusement.
“Yeah! Hammer frow!” Keith yelled, then tore off out of the main room, back down the hall toward our room.
I walked over to pick Aly up, and lifted an eyebrow as I stared down at my brother. “Did you guys watch anything other than The Avengers while I was at school?”
Jagger’s eyes widened. “Do you want me to name all the Marvel movies?”
“No need. I get it.”
The front door opened, and I turned to see Grey walking in with boxes of food.
I glanced quickly to the kitchen, but didn’t see any food out. “I thought you were making breakfast,” I said to Jagger, accusation creeping through my tone.
He shrugged impishly as he walked away to help Grey. “Had to get you out of bed somehow.”
“Being jumped on by a toddler would have done the job, you didn’t need to make me worry about the safety of the building.”
“She’s so dramatic in the mornings,” he mumbled as he took the boxes from his wife and passed a kiss across her forehead. Jagger’s eyes narrowed as they darted over Grey’s face, and remained on her as he slowly stepped back toward the kitchen. “And you look extremely happy for someone who barely slept last night.”
I made a face. “Ew.”
“Not like that!” Grey said quickly.
“Aly, Charlie.” Jagger shot me an annoyed look. “She was up all night with Aly.”
“Anyway!” Grey took Aly from my arms, then swayed away from me. Her eyes were only for her daughter, but her singsong voice floated back to me. “Favor repaid, Charlie. You’re welcome!”
“What favor?” When Grey didn’t immediately answer because she was busy cooing at Aly, I thought of her excited smile, and wariness crept over me. “Grey . . . what favor?”
Her golden eyes danced when she nodded in Jagger’s direction. “You have a job now.”
Jagger held up his box-filled hands. “I don’t know why she’s gesturing to me. I didn’t do shit.”
Keith’s war cry announced his presence before I heard the sound of his slapping feet against the hard floor. “Cheap shit!”
“Well, that’s rude and so not appropriate, bud,” Grey murmured.
“Jagger,” I bit out when he laughed loudly. “Keith, baby, it’s cheap shot.”
“That’s what I said!” Keith said in exasperation as he slowed to climb up in a chair at the table, where Jagger was now laying out the food.
“People are going to think I cuss around him all the time.”
Grey bit down on her bottom lip, but the corners of her mouth still lifted. “We can just blame Jagger.”
“Heard that,” he called out without lifting his head.
“Again, anyway,” Grey began, drawing out the word. “I was talking to Mama while I was waiting for our food, and she mentioned needing another person or two at the café. I might have said something about you being back and in need of a job. One thing led to another, and . . . surprise?” she said uneasily when my face fell.
“You got me a job at Mama’s Café?”
“Uh . . . yes?” When I didn’t respond, she hurried to say, “If you don’t want to work there, you don’t have to forever. But it’s something while you try to find a job somewhere in Thatch or around here. Or you don’t have to work there at all; I can talk to Mama. I just thought since you pretty much got me the job at The Brew, I would—”
This warehouse had been the home of our grandparents’ business when Jagger and I were growing up, but had been cleared out and left to Jagger when they passed since they didn’t trust our mother to hold on to it.
I didn’t blame them.
Our grandparents had left their money equally split among our mother, Jagger, and me. While Jagger used a chunk of his for college and remodeling the warehouse into a place to live, our mom had blown through her third within two years of their passing. For years after, she tried to swindle Jagger out of his, and had even gone after Grey for money when she had spent most of Husband Number Eight’s money.
But we hadn’t seen or heard from Mom in a year and a half, and as awful as it sounded, our lives were better for it. She had never been a parent, only a person who brought endless heartache, and flitted in and out of our lives for as long as I could remember.
Jagger had raised me. I still had him and Keith. I didn’t need anyone else.
My smile from earlier returned when I found Jagger and Keith play-fighting in the living room with Aly crawling after them.
I sniffed dramatically and asked, “Is that burnt water I smell?”
Jagger paused and sent me a sarcastic look. “Ha h-uh! Time out,” he wheezed as he slowly fell to his knees, clutching his stomach.
Keith’s smirk was victorious. “For always beats Loki, Mommy!”
“Of course he does, especially when he takes a cheap shot,” I said teasingly, and pulled him into my arms.
“What’s that?” Keith asked, excitement dancing in his eyes at the thought of learning something new.
“It’s what you just did to Uncle J.” I forced back the laugh that was begging to be released when I glanced at Jagger, now lying on his back, still holding his stomach with one hand and attempting to stop Aly from flopping on him with the other. I directed my attention back to my son and whispered, “Can you do something for Mommy?”
Keith nodded vigorously, his blue eyes even brighter. “Yes!” he whisper-yelled back to me.
I squatted down to whisper in his ear, and loved the way he wiggled with anticipation. “Can you go say you’re sorry to Uncle J for taking a cheap shot?”
He deflated, and when I pulled back, was giving me a look as though I’d just crushed his dreams. “I guess,” he said with a sigh, and trudged slowly over to Jagger. With the same look and sigh, he mumbled, “Uncle J, I’m sorry for taking a cheap shit.”
“Oh gosh,” I groaned, and dropped my face into my hands as Jagger barked out a laugh. “Stop laughing,” I hissed, then looked back up at Keith. “Baby, it’s shot. Cheap shot.”
Keith shrugged. “That’s what I said!” He looked between Jagger and me, and I could tell he didn’t know if he should start laughing as well, but the confusion held out. “Does this mean I didn’t beat Loki?”
“Nah, you definitely won this one, bud,” Jagger said, his words still laced with amusement.
“Yeah! Hammer frow!” Keith yelled, then tore off out of the main room, back down the hall toward our room.
I walked over to pick Aly up, and lifted an eyebrow as I stared down at my brother. “Did you guys watch anything other than The Avengers while I was at school?”
Jagger’s eyes widened. “Do you want me to name all the Marvel movies?”
“No need. I get it.”
The front door opened, and I turned to see Grey walking in with boxes of food.
I glanced quickly to the kitchen, but didn’t see any food out. “I thought you were making breakfast,” I said to Jagger, accusation creeping through my tone.
He shrugged impishly as he walked away to help Grey. “Had to get you out of bed somehow.”
“Being jumped on by a toddler would have done the job, you didn’t need to make me worry about the safety of the building.”
“She’s so dramatic in the mornings,” he mumbled as he took the boxes from his wife and passed a kiss across her forehead. Jagger’s eyes narrowed as they darted over Grey’s face, and remained on her as he slowly stepped back toward the kitchen. “And you look extremely happy for someone who barely slept last night.”
I made a face. “Ew.”
“Not like that!” Grey said quickly.
“Aly, Charlie.” Jagger shot me an annoyed look. “She was up all night with Aly.”
“Anyway!” Grey took Aly from my arms, then swayed away from me. Her eyes were only for her daughter, but her singsong voice floated back to me. “Favor repaid, Charlie. You’re welcome!”
“What favor?” When Grey didn’t immediately answer because she was busy cooing at Aly, I thought of her excited smile, and wariness crept over me. “Grey . . . what favor?”
Her golden eyes danced when she nodded in Jagger’s direction. “You have a job now.”
Jagger held up his box-filled hands. “I don’t know why she’s gesturing to me. I didn’t do shit.”
Keith’s war cry announced his presence before I heard the sound of his slapping feet against the hard floor. “Cheap shit!”
“Well, that’s rude and so not appropriate, bud,” Grey murmured.
“Jagger,” I bit out when he laughed loudly. “Keith, baby, it’s cheap shot.”
“That’s what I said!” Keith said in exasperation as he slowed to climb up in a chair at the table, where Jagger was now laying out the food.
“People are going to think I cuss around him all the time.”
Grey bit down on her bottom lip, but the corners of her mouth still lifted. “We can just blame Jagger.”
“Heard that,” he called out without lifting his head.
“Again, anyway,” Grey began, drawing out the word. “I was talking to Mama while I was waiting for our food, and she mentioned needing another person or two at the café. I might have said something about you being back and in need of a job. One thing led to another, and . . . surprise?” she said uneasily when my face fell.
“You got me a job at Mama’s Café?”
“Uh . . . yes?” When I didn’t respond, she hurried to say, “If you don’t want to work there, you don’t have to forever. But it’s something while you try to find a job somewhere in Thatch or around here. Or you don’t have to work there at all; I can talk to Mama. I just thought since you pretty much got me the job at The Brew, I would—”
