marry me and she said yes, then she would be your stepmom.”
He stares up at me. “That’s kind of the same thing, right?”
I rock my head from side to side and try to come up with the right answer. “Sort of,” I hedge.
“I think it might be nice to have a stepmom,” he says quietly. “Especially if she’s nice like Abigail.” He looks at me. “One of the kids at school has a stepmom and she makes him take baths and stuff.” He looks warily out the door. “Is Abigail going to be that kind of stepmom?”
I honestly have no idea if Abigail even wants to be a mom. We’ve never talked about it. “I don’t know,” I reply.
He suddenly opens the screen door and runs out, his little tennis shoes flying across the front yard. He stops in front of Abigail, and all four women are startled by his sudden appearance. I follow him slowly, wondering what he’s about to do, terrified he’s going to say something he shouldn’t.
But he just sticks his hand in Abigail’s and looks up at her. “Hi there,” she says, looking to me for guidance. I shrug, and she looks back down at Mitchell. The other three women all wear similar expressions of curiosity as they wait. “Did you need something, Mitchell?” she finally asks.
“No, I was just curious.” He bends his leg and catches it at an odd angle, standing there like a flamingo balanced on one foot.
“About what?” She shoots me a quick glance again.
“If you marry my dad and you become my stepmom—that’s kind of like a mom, but I didn’t come out of your hoo-ha—then I think you should be the kind of stepmom that doesn’t make me take baths.” He raises his dark eyes up to her so innocently. “Is that okay?”
Abigail doesn’t even blink. “No, I’ll definitely make you take baths. But how about we compromise, and we let some of them be taken in the lake when the weather is nice?”
He grins. “Deal.”
She holds up her hand to high-five, and he drops his foot back to the ground long enough to slap her palm with his.
“You have any other requests?” she asks.
He shakes his head. Then he looks at me. “Can we go fishing?”
I’m still trying to hold back my laughter. “Sure,” I croak. “Go get your pole out of the closet. Then we’ll need to dig up some worms because I forgot to buy some.”
He takes off toward the house, and he leaves us all standing in complete and utter silence. Then Abigail breaks it with a loud snort and then a loud laugh. “He just talked about my hoo-ha.” She gives me what I know is meant to be a fake intimidating glare. “We’re going to have to teach that boy to use the word vagina.”
“Only if you want to hear it every five seconds,” Mrs. Marshall warns.
“He’s adorable,” one of the other ladies says.
“Thanks,” I reply shyly. I’m not ready to address the idea of marriage, not in front of all these people, even though my son just tossed it right out there.
Abigail introduces me to Camille and Rachel, who can’t stop grinning. “It’s nice to meet you,” Camille says, and Rachel sticks out her hand to shake. I take it, and she suddenly jerks me to her and hugs me.
“Hey,” Camille pretends to complain.
“Oh, hush,” Rachel says. “You know he’s not my type.” She cautiously pokes around on my neck, shoulders, and chest with her fingertips. “I just wanted to feel him, not sleep with him.”
I look to Abigail for help, but she’s just grinning.
“He’s so hard, Abigail,” Rachel says. “My God, I bet he’s gorgeous naked.”
Mrs. Marshall raises her palm. “He is. I can attest to that.”
My cheeks are filled with heat.
“If you guys don’t quit it,” Abigail warns, “he’s going to spontaneously combust.” She walks over and peels Rachel back from me. She points to Camille. “Yours is over there,” she says. “This one is mine.”
Camille rubs her hands together. “Can we go fishing too?”
I shrug. “I don’t see why not.”
Mrs. Marshall says, “Abigail, go get my pole.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Abigail says as she walks away. Camille and Rachel go with her.
Mrs. Marshall turns to face me, looking more serious than I have ever seen her look. “If you let her fall in love with that boy and then you take him away, I’m going to beat you to within an inch of your life.”