She nodded. “I agree. But we’re not bailing him out, Ryn. He faces the consequences. We can support him however he lets us do that, but not that way. Last night could have been much worse. We’ve inadvertently enabled him for a long time. That stops now.”

It was my turn to nod.

She let out a big breath.

After doing that, she muttered, “Let’s get on finishing this lasagna to feed your man and his folks, because I need to get on making my Caesar salad dressing.”

Bonus to Mom being in the mix, she was making her Caesar salad. From scratch. Something she hadn’t taught me. And something that was brilliant.

We finished up and I was tidying up while Mom called Boone to assist in locating all the gear she needed to make her dressing.

Boone gave me a soft-eyed look and gentle grin as he strode his long-legged stride to help out my mom.

I gave him one back.

My eyes then strayed to the couch and I saw Anne-Marie was doing something on her phone.

But Porter had his gaze on me.

When he caught mine, he smiled his own gentle grin.

My heart squeezed and it wasn’t unpleasantly.

I gave him one back.

Chapter Twenty-One

My Eternity

Ryn

Okay, so paint. Then flooring. Then kitchen. And we’ll go out this weekend and make definite decisions about lighting and order that bathroom stuff. And just sayin’, I still think your mom is right about the lighting.”

“Dad’s right about the lighting.”

“I think we should go chrome.”

“Polished nickel.”

It was Tuesday morning.

Boone’s parents were gone.

My brother was out of jail pending a court hearing where, according to the attorney he’d hired (news Mom gave me, Brian hadn’t contacted me), the amount of damage done to the other car and his blood alcohol level were going to mean he’d probably serve time. Not much. A few days. Maybe a few weeks. But also maybe enough to give him (another) wakeup call.

Sunday Boone and his parents and I had brunch with my mom (she tried to demur, saying the Sadlers needed time with Boone and me without her butting in, but Anne-Marie would hear none of it). Then off we all went as per Porter’s demand to look at fittings and fixtures for the house.

Mag and Evie, Axl, Auggie, Lottie and Mo met us for dinner and Mom officially got to meet Boone’s friends.

She seemed really happy about it. Happy about the day. Happy about the dinner. Happy about how awesome my friends were. She and Anne-Marie got on like wildfire, so happy to have a new friend. And happy for me.

Her happy made me happy.

And we needed some of that.

Boone’s parents left Monday afternoon and Mom phoned Monday night to share that Angelica was Brian’s first call. And she went to the hospital for the sole purpose of sharing she was washing her hands of him.

So now was now, back to the grind, but with a plan.

I was beginning to get a bit antsy about the fact I still was not back onstage at Smithie’s, but I couldn’t say it sucked that I had time to focus on the house which meant chasing my dream for my future.

“We’ll have another look at them this weekend and decide at the store,” Boone decreed about the lighting.

“Okay,” I agreed.

“Who called?” he asked.

I looked from my notebook, where I was keeping track of all things house, to Boone. “Who called? When?”

“About Brian.”

He hadn’t brought it up since our conversation in my backyard. Mom and I talked about it, but Boone had been letting it be. Probably in order not to upset me. Or not get pissed himself.

I would find in short order it was the latter.

At the time, though, I didn’t know that, so I looked back to the notebook and spoke.

“Angelica. When she called me, she shared she was done with him. She also shared I could tell him that and tell him he couldn’t see his kids unless he cleaned up. And she put a line under our relationship, saying being done with Brian meant being done with me, so she shared her truth about how her life was in the toilet after all Brian had done to her, having kids so early, she can’t go out to clubs and whatever, and she did what she did because she just needed some time to be normal.”

I was talking and making notes about where first to tackle paint (kitchen) when I realized Boone didn’t reply.

It was then, woefully belatedly, I felt the mood of the room.

Boone’s mood.

I looked to him.

Oh man.

At the granite set of his face, I straightened from the counter I was leaning over, but before I could say anything, he asked, “So she’s done with you, but you’re still her mouthpiece to your brother?”

“Boone—”

“Are you fucking shitting me?” he roared.

Whoa.

That was extreme.

“Was she there?” he bit out.

“Sorry?” I asked, still recovering from his explosion.

“Was she at the hospital?”

“She went to tell him she was done with him,” I shared.

“And then she called you. Washed her hands of a man she was all in to fuck, make babies with, take his house when she kicked him out, his money after she kicked him out, and the going gets really rough, she’s done with the father of her goddamned children, phones you and you gotta phone your mother, deal with your brother, and she goes home to eat chips in front of the TV.”

Sadly, with Angelica, that was probably the gist of it.

“Boone, it’s—”

“What it is, is fucked up, Ryn.” He lifted his hand and jabbed a finger at me. “And you are done eating that woman’s shit.”

I decided to give him a second to get a lock on it.

Boone didn’t feel like taking that second.

“That bitch needs to clue the fuck in. But I know one thing she’s gonna clue in to is that you aren’t her fucking doormat.”

“Okay, treading cautiously here, but I’m not sure I’m getting why Angelica being Angelica has tripped your trigger.”

“Because we all got no choice but to grow up, Ryn. Yeah, I’d like to spend my days playing basketball and videogames and drinking brewskis with my homeboys.”

I was suddenly struggling not to laugh at Boone saying “brewskis with my homeboys.”

“But I can’t do that,” he kept going. “I got a mortgage to pay and a future to plan for and responsibilities to see to. She can’t pop out two kids and bitch and moan she can’t be a club girl and expect everyone to step up for her. Especially not fuckin’ you. You’ve stepped up enough. And you are goddamned done getting shit on.”

And there it was.

The part he didn’t mention was that he was there to save the day, and if Angelica kept fucking with me, it would mean continual hits to his hero street cred.

I again fell silent to give him time to get a lock on it.

When this time he appeared to be taking it, to help him out, I said, “I love how you look out for me.”

“Get that, Ryn,” he stated tersely. “I love that you love it but that’s part of who I am to you. That’s part of what I give to you. And it’s your life, your family, you gotta make the decisions, but I’m steppin’ in if they start shitting on you, like this latest Angelica has pulled, and we’ll be having a discussion, like we’re having right now.”