Page 75 of Mr. Brightside
“Thanksgiving in Hampton sounds perfect, bro. Just let me know how your schedule is shaking up, and we’ll figure it out. I’ll keep the same hours Mike used to keep for that weekend, and I’ll check in with Cory about his schedule, too.”
We hang up, and I exhale. I’m totally out of my element when it comes to counting on anyone besides myself and the few people who have been there for me my whole life. But this feels right. Different but right.
I shoot off a message to Cory to let him know I’ll be home in a few hours. Then I stare back up at the cloudless, boundless sky.
Chapter 31
Cory
Thingshavebeentouchand go all night. Jake came home upset after the run-in with his brother at the park. I’ve spent time with his nieces, and I’ve met Ashleigh, too. But Julian is an enigma.
I feel out of my league right now—how can I support him through this? Does he need comfort? Does he need to vent? Is he interested in problem solving? In my defense, I don’t think he knows, either. So I’ve relegated myself to the kitchen and am focused on making my man some tried-and-true comfort food with what we have on hand.
“That smells amazing,” Jake says as he saunters into the kitchen and heads for the fridge. He grabs himself another beer, then throws his empty bottle in the recycling bin under the sink.
“Anything I can do to help?” His arms are around me the next moment, two strong tethers that link us together and promise to withstand any storm.
I lean back into his touch, letting myself savor how it feels to be wrapped up in him.
“I’ve got this,” I murmur as he brushes his big hands up and down my ribs with featherlight touches. It’s the chaste kiss on the exposed skin along my neckline that really does me in. It is so easy to get lost in him. But I feel compelled to keep him from relying on sex to distract himself from what’s really going on here, so I quickly change the subject.
“Do you want to watch a movie tonight?” I ask as I sprinkle more cheese on the Johnnie Marzetti. My dad used to make this for me all the time. It’s not the most complex recipe, but it tastes like pure comfort. That’s what I want to give my husband right now: a huge hug, a full belly, and a night to switch off and focus on taking care of himself rather than everyone around him.
“You know I never say no to movie night and a good cuddle.”
He kisses my neck again, then leaves me to it.
An hour later, we’re devouring bowls of cheesy pasta in front of the TV.
“This is freakin’ delicious,” Jake declares through a mouthful of food. “Did your grandma teach you how to make this?”
I scoff at the notion of Abuela ever making a dish like this. “Johnnie Spaghetti-O,” she called it the one time I brought leftovers back from my dad’s house. The woman’s a food snob.
“No, my dad is the king of casseroles. He’d whip up something like this on Friday, then we’d eat off it all weekend.”
Jake gives me a closed-mouth smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, then nods thoughtfully as he chews. “I’d like to meet him sometime. Your dad. I want to meet your whole family.”
“You will,” I assure him, leaning over to rest my head on his shoulder.
Maybe I shouldn’t have brought up my dad so casually, given what he went through today. But maybe this is my opening.
“Do you want to talk about what happened?” I ask, nudging my jean-clad knee against him.
He came home and changed into light gray sweatpants and a fitted navy T-shirt. I spent the better part of an hour glancing at the drawstring and crotch of those babies. It’s sort of ridiculous, really. We have sex most nights and sometimes in the morning if we’re not rushing out the door. I know what’s behind those pants. And yet I’m still mesmerized by the sight of him.
Jake finishes his food and sets the empty bowl on the coffee table. When he sees that my bowl is empty, too, he takes it from my hands.
“You want more, baby?”
I shake my head. He sets my dishes beside his. He’ll wash them later, just like he does every night, regardless of whether he cooks.
“Today was eye opening,” he starts. “That’s for damn sure. Seeing Julian interact with the girls confirmed about a dozen things I always suspected but didn’t know for sure.”
He told me the logistics of what happened at the splash pad as soon as he got home. But this is what we haven’t talked about yet—his reaction to interacting with his brother for the first time in years. And the fact that our not-so-secret marriage was exposed.
“Everything about watching him with them stirred up old shit for me,” he continues. “Julian isn’t outwardly cruel like my dad. But maybe that’s how it started with Joe, and I don’t even remember. It just sucks to see a walking, talking clone of the most awful person I’ve ever known, and to know my girls are stuck with him…”
He slumps back on the couch, defeated.