Page 18 of His Vivacious Angel
“God help you, Forest. Autumn’s stubbornness gives Bailey a run for her money,” Isaiah says, pushing his large, square-rimmed glasses up his nose as we take a break when Brady gets up to use the restroom. “But at least she’s not a schemer.” Isaiah shudders and scratches the back of his darkbrown neck, beneath his high-cut fade. “You wouldn’t stand a chance against her if she were. I didn’t.”
“A schemer, how?” I ask, thinking of Autumn’s fake sniffing, coughing, and plugging her nose. Is that what he’s talking about?
Martin laughs so deeply that I can feel the vibrations through the concrete floor.
Sherman grumbles a bizarre response that in no way answers my question, saying simply, “Miranda’s homemade pies.”
“It’s the babysitting that was the cherry on top for me,” James says.
Sherman shoots him a look of displeasure, of which James seems oblivious, yawning again.
Cherry on top of what? Why does Sherman care that Shayla used to babysit Grayson before they got married? What does Miranda’s baking have to do with anything?I’m so lost, as are the two other members of our group, a married couple named Mara and Ezra, who sit back with matching expressions of confusion.
“And those tight, man-killing, trouble-making dresses Bailey designs,” Isaiah adds, shaking his head slowly with a drawn-out whistle.
Sherman scowls, slightly green in the face.
“Does Bailey make Autumn’s dresses?” I ask Isaiah, trying to keep up with the conversation.
“She makes them for all the girls and their mother.” Isaiah drops his chin and says seriously, “They ought to be illegal, what those dresses make us want to do.”
“Agreed,” I say quietly, pulling up the mental image of Autumn’s dress riding up her bare thighs when she sat in the grass, her large breasts spilling from the low neckline. She might not be sweet with me, but her dresses sure are. Man-killing, trouble-making indeed.
Sherman sucks his teeth, and I freeze like a deer in headlights. Why the hell did I mention Autumn’s apparel in front of her dad, who has the power to fire me without notice? I have no business looking twice at his daughter.
When Brady strides through the side door that connects the house to the attached garage after using the restroom, Sherman clutches his chest and tells his son, “Run back inside and grab my pills. These boys are going to give me a heart attack.”
The men and I head across the street when we call it a night. I haven’t had this much fun in ages, and I’m already counting down the days until the next game night. It’s Isaiah’s turn to host next, his home conveniently located only a few streets away. Moving to this smaller city, so far, has turned out to be as good as I’d hoped it would be.
With the pop music turned up loud, the women don’t hear us walk in, and I catch Autumn completely unguarded. Barefoot and holding Benjamin, she hops and dances in circles with Sebastian and the other toddlers. She knows all the lyrics as she sings at the top of her lungs with Josephine, Lainey, and Ivy. Benjamin claps his hands out of rhythm, giggling like crazy.
I stop in my tracks so abruptly that Isaiah collides with my back with anooph,making me stumble over my feet, sending me sprawling on the floor. Everyone, including Autumn, stops and stares. Oh god, kill me now.
“My bad,” Isaiah says, pushing his glasses up and helping me to stand.
Autumn’s carefree expression has shuttered, and she clears her throat, straightening her spine. God only knows how much she’s going to tease me for this too.
Thankfully, I don’t have to face her just yet, because Josephine comes running and grabs my hand, tugging me toward the kitchen with all her strength. There’s hardly an inch of the kitchen tabletop visible beneath all the kids’ art supplies, coloring books, slime, and air-dry clay sculptures.
“Look what we made!” she shouts, though the music has since been turned down, and she presents me with her brightly painted sketchpad. “Autumn did the house and trees, but I did all of us!”
Autumn hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d told Josephine that she’s incredibly talented. There’s no mistaking who the people are, with Benjamin and me on the left, holding hands with Josephine in the middle, who’s holding hands with Autumn and Sebastian on the right. If one didn’t know better, they’d guess that we’re a family.
“It’s beautiful,” I tell Josephine, my voice thick with rising emotion. In all her previous paintings, it’s always been just the two of us. She flips the page to a new one where she’d started sketching out her and her friends, and I’m swept away on a tidal wave of gratefulness that these people have taken us in. Moving here was the right decision. Autumn might fray my nerves like no other, and I’m more than a little wary of her father, but she and her family have been a huge blessing when it comes to my kids. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay her for that.
Autumn smiles as she shuffles to my side, her eyes twinkling with warmth and affection, when Josephine throws her arms around us, then takes off to find her friends.
“Lainey and Ivy told her that their moms are taking them to get mother-daughter mani-pedis tomorrow, and they invited her along,” Autumn says, tickling Benjamin’s cheek. “She asked me if I would go, and when I said yes, she got really excited and said that everyone will think I’m her mom.” Atthis, her brows pinch with worry. “Then she painted this, and said she wants to hang it above her bed.”
I set my hands on my hips, distant alarm bells ringing in my head. “This might be a bad idea.”
Autumn chews the inside of her cheek. “Should I tell her I can’t go?”
I don’t know what the right answer is, and we turn to watch Josephine, whose face is animated with delight as she talks with her friends. “No,” I eventually say. “She’s never had a best friend or been able to do all the ‘girly’ things before—not to sound sexist or anything,” I rush to say.
“You’re fine. I know what you mean.”
My shoulders relax a fraction. “I think it would mean a lot to her, if you don’t mind.”
