In the Mix (28 page)

“Kyle.” CiCi turns to me. We’ve just pulled up to her parents’ house and she’s been a ball of nervous energy the whole trip here.

“Everything will be fine. I’m not such a bad guy. I don’t think they will hate me or anything.” I grab her hand and bring it up to my lips to plant several kisses.

“That’s not it.” She shakes her head.

“What is it, then?”

“My mom. Kyle, my mom has MS,” she starts.

“I know, beautiful. Mitch told me a while back.” I offer her an encouraging smile.

“Can you let me finish?” She smacks my leg. I nod. She takes in a breath and stares out at the house. “She’s coming out of remission. Scratch that—she’s out of remission. Right now, she’s moved past denial and fast-forwarded right to doom and gloom. I’m not knocking anything she’s going through; it fucking sucks. It’s just . . . you’re the first guy I’ve brought home since Drew. She was weepy just the other night, worried that I wouldn’t find someone. When I told her I met you and that you were a good guy, she—”

“—you told her about me already?” I cut her off.

“Yes. Is that okay?” She furrows her brows.

“That’s more that okay, that’s amazingly fantastic!” I hug her to me.

“Ok . . . calm down, killer.” She pats my back. I pull back a little and stare into her eyes.

Falling . . .

“Go on.” I nudge her nose and peck her lips.

“She became extremely excited and relieved, all at once. So, I want to warn you that by the time we leave, she may have our firstborn named.” She smiles meekly.

Falling . . .

“I’m sure I’ll put in a good fight if I hate the name. C’mon, now.” I give her a chaste kiss and open my door. I jog around to her side of the car and help her out.

“Alright, skipper, take it down a notch; nobody’s looking.” She rolls her eyes at me.

“Actually, both of your parents are doing their darnedest to not be caught while they are—in fact—looking. However, I would do this anyhow. You know that.” I pull her to me.

“They’re watching?” she asks a bit panicked.

“Yes. Would now be a good time to shove my tongue down your throat . . . maybe grope you a bit?”

“Sure, but they may come out and instruct you on how to do it right.” She winks and gives me a quick kiss before turning to head up to the door of the house.

Before we even finish climbing the steps, the door is thrown open. “Dolly!” An older gentleman calls out. My guess is it’s the famous “Happy” Jack O’Brien.

“Hey, Dad.” She kisses and hugs him. “What’s with the overzealous welcome?”

“What? Can’t a dad be happy to see his daughter?” He acts hurt.

“Hmm . . . you’re not fooling anyone.” She squints her eyes at him then slips by him into the house.

“Mr. O’Brien.” I put my hand out for a shake.

“You fish, Kyle?” Is how he greets me while shaking my hand.

“Uh . . . I haven’t in a while, but yes.”

“Good. You can come with Mitch and me next Saturday.” He pats my back and guides me in the house.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’ll be in Spain for work.” Fuck if I’m not off to a bad start!

“Spain?” he asks, sounding surprised.

“Yeah, Daddy. He’s going to train to be a conquistador—olé!” She does some weird funky move with a snap and pose to finish. I can’t help but laugh at her carefree nature. I think that’s what I love most about her.

“I’m actually taking our new team over to do
their
final training. Becoming a conquistador may not come off of my bucket list this time around.” I rub my chest and shake my head, emphasizing the disappointment. I sigh.

“Mitch said you work with him. I think it’s great that you boys are doing this. Let the younger kids get some of the action. There comes a time in a man’s life where he needs to settle down in one place and get some roots in the ground.” He eyes me the whole time he goes through his spiel.

“I couldn’t agree more with you, sir.” I nod and get a quick glance in of CiCi, who’s being extremely productive shooting eye daggers at me. I’m guessing that’s her mother standing next to her, productively shooting hearts out of her eyes at me. I wink at Ceese.

“Well, come on and make yourselves at home. Kyle, you can follow me into the kitchen so we can get better acquainted.” She smiles and reaches out her hand to me.

“Sure, Mrs. O’Brien.” I grab her hand and follow.

“Call me, Ma,” she says, waving her other hand.

“Call her Shannon or Mrs. O’Brien!” CiCi calls after us.

“What are you making, Ma? It smells good in here.” I ask real loud then turn back to Ceese and stick my tongue out at her. She flips me off.

Falling . . .

“I’ve made your favorite. Now, reach up into that cupboard and get me that colander.” She points.

“How do you know what my favorite dish is?” Curiosity may very well kill this cat.

“What’s there to know?”

“Well, you’ve never met me before.” I scratch the back of my neck as I try to figure her out.

“Colander.” She whacks my stomach with the back of her hand. I turn to grab it. “I’m a good cook, Kyle. Everything I make will be your favorite.”

“Word is bond, yo! My mom’s cooking is the shiznits!” CiCi bellows out, walking into the kitchen.

“Have you started watching that MTV Raps show again, Carissa?” Her mom shakes her head at her.

“Yes I have, Mom. Now that my time machine is working again, I’ve been going back and making the 90s my bitch.” She pops an appetizer in her mouth and laughs when her mom whips her with a dish towel.

“You getting a taste of Frick and Frack?” Happy says from behind me, making me jump. Sneaky bastard.

“Yeah. It’s like they were separated at birth.” I stare in awe.

“We were, dipshit. You see me walking around attached to a placenta?”

“Carissa Catherine!” her mom gasps. I know why her mom is panicking. Here I am, the first guy Ceese has brought home in over a decade and she speaks to me like
this?
A guy might be pissed. Not this guy, though. I fucking
love
that mouth of hers. It turns me on to no end. I decide to lash out at her in our own little coded way.

I eye fuck her.

Hard.

Throw a little lip biting and nose flaring in to show her I mean business and I can see the heat rise up into her cheeks. She reaches up to her necklace, playing with the cross, sliding it back and forth on the chain as if to comfort herself.

“Don’t worry, Ma. CiCi’s mouth doesn’t offend me in the least. In fact, it’s one of the things I love most about her,” I add, throwing a smile her way before noticing CiCi’s eyes growing big.

“Well, thank God for miracles!” Charlotte calls out as she and Mitch enter the kitchen, followed by her three kids. This is a pretty decent size kitchen, but it’s completely crowded now.

“Kyle!” Mitch shakes my hand, slaps me on the back, and leans in. “How in the fuck did you two go from being done to having family dinner in a matter of days?” he inquires secretively.

“Let’s just say, we’ve come to an understanding,” I reply and pat his upper arm before he pulls away. Mitch’s attention gets pulled by one of the kids. Shannon is clanking things. Charlotte is right next to her diving in to the finishing touches. Happy’s gone off to answer the door. The buzz in this house is electrifying. But none of that noise catches my attention quite like the pair of green eyes I see, staring back at me from the other side of the room. I walk across, eliminating the distance between us. Her hands immediately lie on my chest and slide up and around my neck. I pull her to me, hugging her as tightly as I can.

“Sorry,” she whispers into my neck.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I chuck her chin and lay several kisses on her lips.

All of the noise stops.

CiCi and I look around.

“You all waiting for the money shot?” she asks. Dear God, she seriously just asked that question.

“I think it already happened in Kyle’s pants,” Mitch bellows out. I shoot him a look that hopefully tells him to fuck off. I don’t even know this guy anymore! “Relax, Kyle.” He slaps my back. “If you’re going to be around this family, you may as well learn to loosen up. Anything goes in this house and it takes a lot to offend someone.”

“Alright, everyone, get the hell out of my kitchen now, goddamn it. The girls will be here in a half an hour and I don’t have a thing ready!” Shannon yells as she pulls two cooked meatloaves out of the oven.

“The girls?” CiCi panics.

“Yeah. It’s that time of the month.” Shannon shrugs.

“Jesus, I thought I was feeling cramps.” CiCi shakes her head and sort of looks pissed off. “C’mon!” She grabs my hand, drags me out of the kitchen, past the living room into a smaller room, and closes the door. “I need to prepare you for this,” she states urgently and begins to pace.

“For what? I’ve met all of your friends, beautiful. There’s nothing for you to worry about.” I grab her hands, removing them out of her hair. “Stop.” Kiss. “Worrying.” Kiss. “So much.” A little tongue slippage.

“But, Kyle, they haven’t been around you since we’ve . . . I mean . . . we’re very new and they are going to be relentless.” She pushes away.

I grasp her hips and close the gap between us. “I think I know a thing or two about being relentless.” I murmur before attacking her lips.

“Why are you so relaxed and comfortable with all of this?” She shoves off from me again.

“Why are you not?” I counter.

“I’m not used to it. I just don’t want them making a big deal out of it. We’re fucking, so what?” She throws her hand out for emphasis.

We’re fucking?

You caught that, too, huh?

“C’mon, let’s get back out there.” I open the door and wave her out. She lets out a frustrated groan and storms past me.

“What the hell is her problem?” Mitch asks after he watches her continue out of the living room.

“Do me a favor?” I direct my attention towards him.

“What’s up?”

“Are you able to contact the rest of the GEGs?”

Mitch whips out his phone and starts laughing. “I feel like we should be whipping out a special phone when a line like that is dropped. Group text?” He looks up, still slightly chuckling.

“No shit, right?” I have to laugh. It’s true and I can’t help but imagine Mitch and me in black and white, in an office, smoking cigarettes, racing to call the GEGs on the big black office rotary phone.

“Dude, what do you need me to say?” Mitch waves the phone in my face.

“Just tell them the CiCi and I are together and to please not make a big deal out of it at dinner.”

“I’m not telling them that. That’s like ammunition, man! Besides, CiCi will be
pissed
if they don’t make a big deal out of it.” He puts his phone away. “Stop worrying so much.”

“What’s he worrying about?” Happy inquires as he walks in.

“The girls making a big deal out of him and CiCi being together,” Mitch answers.

“Eh, those girls have been best friends forever. Their more like sisters, really. They make a big deal out of everything. Love those girls.” He shakes his head, smiling. “It’s like I have eight daughters instead of five. Speaking of,” he looks around, “I’m glad I got you fellas alone. I want to give you some advice,” he says with a secretive tone.

“What’s that, Dad?” Mitch comes in a little closer and we almost look as if we’re going into a huddle.

“Look, I don’t know if you’re aware of this or not, but I, myself, was in a very similar situation as you both. My brother-in-law, God rest his soul, was my best friend. He was married to Shannon’s sister. I’m telling you two right
now,
” he points at the ground authoritatively with the most serious “life or death” face I’ve ever seen before. “Never
ever
assume anybody knows what
you
know!”

“Dad, what the hell are you talking about?” Mitch asks. I’m glad he did because I’m standing here just as fucking clueless.

“Don’t assume because you tell each other stuff about the girls that the girls know anything you know,” he repeats is a less confusing . . . no, wait . . . that’s still confusing.

“Ah! I think I know what you’re getting at, Dad!” Mitch waves a finger in the air.

“Good. You want to enlighten me?”

“It’s like, what I told you about Charlotte. Nobody else knows, except for Ava. Shit! You didn’t say anything to CiCi, did you?” Mitch grabs my shoulder and I can see the panic spreading like wildfire in his eyes.

“That—
right there
—is what I’m talking about.” Happy pokes at my other shoulder.

“No. I didn’t, but shit—Happy’s right! I wouldn’t have known not to!”

“See? Always and I mean,
always
talk to each other first and make sure you know who knows before you assume shit and everything goes to hell in a hand basket!” he reiterates. “Now, clearly, I have no idea as to what you are talking about but since three of my girls are involved, I want the goods.”

“We’re actually going to discuss this over dinner, Dad.” Mitch shuffles his hand through his hair.

“That’s fine, but you’ll tell me now. I know I’ve been married to Shannon for almost forty years but that doesn’t mean I don’t need a heads up on how to deal with her reaction to stuff. You’ll never have them fully figured out, fellas, but that’s half the fun in being with them, isn’t it?”

“Hey, Dad, how’s Mom doing?” Mitch softens his voice.

Happy’s face drops. “Not good, Mitch,” his voice scratches. “You know me well enough, Mitch, to know I don’t let much get to me. But I’d be lying right now if I told you I wasn’t pissed off,” he chokes. “That’s my sweetheart in there . . . suffering . . . and there’s not a
damn
thing I can do but sit by and watch. I just want to take it from her! She’s a good woman; she doesn’t deserve this.” He rubs his face, catching a sob. “You know, Shannon . . . she’s sayin’ this is the end of the road, that she’s got nothing left in her. It was bad the last time—really, really bad! I don’t know if I could disagree with her if it gets like that again. So, not only am I worried about her getting that sick, but pulling back out of it. What if it gets her this time—
this lousy, fucking beast
—and I lose my Shannon all the while sitting next to her and watching it happen. You’re supposed to protect the woman you love. I don’t have a sword powerful enough . . . not even a white horse to sit upon to give her hope. I’ll tell you right now, fellas, forty years is a long time but when it comes to losing the love of your life, it’s no longer than a minute. You’d do anything for another forty.” Happy is letting his emotions go and he is full on crying for his woman. We are, officially, in a group huddle, snot collectively dripping onto the floor from all of us.