I can’t help but giggle at the look of confusion on his face.
Stepping behind her, I tap my eye lid and mouth “makeup.” He smirks and offers me the slightest nod of acknowledgement before saying, “Clementine Jean Thorne, are you wearing makeup?”
Bouncing on her heels she squeals, “Yes! Isn’t it great?”
“No. You are still my baby girl. I’m going to have to speak with your mother about this.” He attempts to be stern but fails to hide his smile.
“Mom is the one who put it on. She’s the best.” Turning her head, she looks at me like I have given her the greatest gift, and my heart swells at the adoration on her face. I’ll take it. The teenage years are going to be the polar opposite of this moment if she’s anything like I was.
Leaving Clem with my dad so he can fake lecture her on growing up, I move through the house, picking up abandoned toys and discarded shoes before tossing them in a basket near the door. When I make it to the kitchen, I spot my mom chopping and dicing vegetables at the counter while Jacob sits at the table. His little tongue is sticking out between his lips as he concentrates on the book in his hands.
“What are you reading, buddy?” I ask, taking the seat next to him.
Never taking his eyes off the pages he murmurs, “A book.”
Glancing at my mom, she smirks at his response and turns her attention back to her vegetables. Clearing my throat to get his attention, I wait with a raised brow until he turns to look at me.
“Do you want to try that again?”
“Sorry. It’s a book on a baseball player. I want to know as much as I can before the first practice. Kyle already knows so much because he played last year. I have a lot to learn.”
I take the book and flip to the back for a synopsis. “Jacob, I don’t know that reading a book of biographies is going to help you play the game.”
“It won’t but at least I’ll be able to talk about the game. Have you heard from the coach yet?”
“Not yet. Remember, they told Grammy when she signed you up that they were looking for a few new coaches.” At least that’s what she told me when she paid his fees. Just another way my parents have stepped up when my ex-husband hasn’t. “Okay, kiddo, Clem and I are leaving now. You be good for Grammy and Pop. And clean your room. It looks like a bomb went off in there.”
Groaning, he ignores my request and has his nose back in the book before I can push my chair out. I move to where my mom is and lean my hip against the counter. When she stops dicing to dump a pile of potatoes in the pot, I grab a carrot from the cutting board. With a loud crunch, I snap the end off and toss it in my mouth.
“Felicity Marie. I could have cut you.”
“What is with all the full name calling today? First Dad with Clem and now you.”
“How’s our girl today?”
“Better. Switching her class seems to have helped. She mentioned having a team project but didn’t sound freaked out.”
Smiling, my mom begins humming and after a few bars I realize it’s the same song Clementine was singing in the bathroom. I always forget my mom has such a beautiful singing voice. She sang a lot when I was little but as I got older I don’t remember as much.
“Who’s minding the store today?” My mom owns a shop on Main Street and until about six months ago, she was there at least six days a week. My dad finally convinced her to scale back a bit and spend a little more time with the kids. Neither of my parents asked me to take over when the time came. Working there part-time as a teenager and again to cover shifts the last few years was enough. Retail is not my wheelhouse. Besides, half the town would have avoided patronizing the store if I was behind the counter.
Everyone in Lexington loves my mom but I can count on one hand the number of people who love me. In fact, two of the four are in this room. Even thinking that is depressing.
“I had both girls come in today. Nikki and Lisa are sweet as pie but sometimes I wonder if they each only have half a brain.”
“Mom, they’re seventeen.