Page 41 of All The Things: The Last Thing He Needs Omnibus

“Yes.” Kind of.

Colleen came closer and put an arm around his shoulders. She kissed his cheek and said, “Good.”

As she pulled back, she added, “There just might be hope for you yet.”

Tommy was watching the twins play together, wishing it was time for their naps. Zoe pulled herself up on the coffee table, looking overly pleased with herself, and took a few wobbly steps before she plopped back down on the floor and decided to crawl toward him.

She and Max had both taken their first steps earlier in the week, less than an hour apart. Max had looked at Zoe in amazement and then decided to try it. Bobby was there for it. He was so proud of them both, anyone watching would’ve assumed he was their father. He took videos of it on his phone. Tommy realized they were probably the only ones in the entire family who had such a milestone recorded for posterity. Unless you counted Colleen’s prom photo, which was also Bobby’s doing. Or Tommy’s first mug shot from when he was twelve and had been caught stealing milk and cereal and a loaf of bread because the cupboards at home were empty. He’d learned to be more careful after that.

When Zoe reached for him, Tommy lifted her up onto his lap. “How’s our girl?” he asked as she patted his face.

He caught one of her tiny hands and kissed her palm. “You about ready for a nap?” He tickled her side and kissed her chubby cheek. “I am. I’m so ready for a nap, you wouldn’t believe, kiddo.”

She giggled and laid her head on his shoulder. Max looked like he wanted in on the cuddles, but as he started to scoot and stumble his way to the couch, there was a knock at the door.

Tommy remembered with regret that he and Bobby were supposed to have an afternoon date for about that time. Judy hadn’t called, and he hadn’t heard from Bobby, so he could only assume Bobby hadn’t been released yet. He carried Zoe in his arms as he went to the door. When he got it open, all he could see was half a person hidden behind a stack of casserole dishes and a cake carrier. He stared for a beat before saying, “Uh, I think you got the wrong house.”

Judy tilted her head to the side to see around the dishes she was carrying. “I never get the wrong house,” she told him cheerfully.

Tommy had about six responses all fighting for first place on the tip of his tongue. One of them was about not needing free food, and one of the others was about seeing where Bobby had gotten his do-gooder streak. He made a face and clamped his mouth shut on all his remarks.

“Set the baby down and give me a hand, would you?” she asked.

He could hear a smile in her tone, and Tommy was picturing what his life might have been like if he’d had her for a mother. He put Zoe down and started to unburden Judy.

Tommy led the way to the kitchen after he closed the door behind her. She carried a couple of long glass dishes in her arms, and he had three more just like it, along with, apparently, a cake.

“Bobby’s getting released this afternoon,” she explained as she trailed behind him.

Never in his life had he been so thankful he’d bothered to clean the house right after breakfast.

“I thought you might want to go pick him up,” she added as they set the dishes down on the kitchen counter.

“And you figured he’d be really hungry?”

Judy laughed at that. “No,” she said, going over to the fridge like she lived there. She was putting things away and talking over her shoulder to Tommy. “When I don’t know what to do with myself, I cook. When I can’t cook anymore, I bring the food to someone who will take pity on me and feel obligated to chat for a while.”

Tommy tried to let it go. He tried to tell himself she was restless and this wasn’t going to become A Thing She Did. But he also figured he should set some boundaries down early on. “Listen, Mrs. McA—”

“Judy,” she corrected him kindly.

“Judy.” Tommy chewed the inside of his cheek, trying to get some control before going on. “This was really nice and all, but we’re good here. We don’t need any—”

“Who said anything about need?” she asked with a vague wave of her hand, as if she could dismiss his words with the gesture. “No one needs chocolate fudge cake, but that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be shared when one is made.”

Tommy was still trying to find his footing. “Right, but…. This is too much, ya know? We’re covered and all, and….”

He had to stop talking when Judy turned to face him. Her brow was furrowed and her hands were on her hips. She looked like she was ready to stand him in the corner. “I’m sorry, Tommy, but are you trying to argue with me?”

He suddenly felt like he was six years old, which seemed oddly appropriate given the fact she was a first-grade teacher. “No, ma’am.”

Judy smiled brightly then and patted him on the cheek. “Good,” she said as she turned toward the door that led back to the living room. He followed her. “Bobby said you could be—” She made another gesture with her hand over her shoulder. “—difficult sometimes about these things.”

Tommy felt like he was being swept up in a tornado. He had lost all control of the situation and his home. He was going to kick Bobby’s ass as soon he was out of the hospital. “What things?”

“People being nice to you.” She whispered the word “nice” like it was dirty as she sat down on the living room floor near Max.

Zoe took after Tommy when it came to strangers. She made a beeline for his leg and started to climb up. She had no interest whatsoever in getting to know new people who waltzed into the house. Even people who came loaded down with food that—Tommy had to admit, if only to himself—smelled amazing.

---