Page 221 of Lovers' Dance

“What in God’s name are you doing? You’ve lost your mind. Acting a fool when we have a guest. Get your foot off my chair arm. I have a right mind to…”

I slipped out the sitting room, leaving Jenny to her telling off. In the kitchen, Matt was having a conversation with Uncle David about the construction industry and the effects the housing market crash from a few years ago had on it. I took my seat to finish my cold eggs, stealing glances at Matt. He was at ease in any given situation, confident that he had a right to be there, that he had a right to be listened to. I loved that about him. Sometimes that confidence morphed into plain old arrogance—well, a lot of the times that happened. But he carried his arrogance well. He was buttering a slice of toast as he spoke, intelligent grey eyes jumping between my uncle and the bread. He placed the buttered toast on my plate and started another one for himself, all the while maintaining the conversation.

I cannot begin to express the emotion that flooded through me. God. I loved him.

Jamal was eyeing the soft mushiness on my face as I reverently held the toast and took a small bite.

“What?” I asked abruptly. The conversation between Uncle David and Matt paused at my tone.

Matt nudged my arm with his elbow. “Are you all right, poppet?”

“I’m fine,” I muttered, shooting death stares at Jamal.

Uncle David resumed their conversation while I mouthed “screw you” to Jamal.

He took a swig of his coffee, then mouthed “stupid” at me.

I retorted with a silent “asshole”, making sure Matt was focused on Uncle David.

Jamal rolled his eyes before mouthing “dumb ass fool.”

I snuck a peek at Matt and Uncle David. They were engrossed in their talk, so I took the chance to swipe my index finger in front my neck. A sign of promised death for Jamal.

He put his mug down, and checking they weren’t looking, beckoned me on with his hands.

“Will you two stop that?” Uncle David asked gruffly. Damn. He wasn’t looking at us, yet he knew we were up to something.

Matt gave me a confused look, unaware of the non-verbal tiff that had taken place. I smiled sweetly at him and took another bite of my toast. Jamal went back to fiddling on his cell. The spat was over, for now.

Aunt Cleo and a suitably chastened Jenny walked back into the kitchen to finish their breakfast. Aunt Cleo and I kept looking at the wall clock, it was already seven fifteen am. We needed to start cooking.

“Madi.” Jenny brought my attention from the clock onto her. “I’ve never been to England and you’ve been over there a bit more than three years. Mom and I need a vacation.”

Matt bent his head. From my vantage point next to him, I could see his eyes had grown saucer-size. He was probably imagining the possible media stories that would be printed by the British press, probably imagining Grumps meeting my Aunt Cleo…oh God. No freaking way.

“Uh.” I hedged. “I have invited you guys in the past and you’ve always refused—”

“I don’t like England,” Aunt Cleo interrupted with shadows in her dark-brown eyes. “Too many bad memories. Jamal, pass me the orange juice, please, and put that phone down. Who are you texting? Whoever it is should be focused on spending time with their family, not texting you.”

“Yes, ma,” he said robotically as he passed the pitcher of orange juice.

Matt touched my thigh under the table and I jerked in surprise. For a moment I had forgotten I was seated at the table. My thoughts were hung up on Aunt Cleo’s words. Bad memories. I swallowed hard and clasped my hands in my lap. Seconds later, I felt Matt gently tug them apart before running his thumb over my tingling pinkie finger.

The doorbell went again. Aunt Cleo and Uncle David watched each other in surprise. Matt checked his watch.

“David, if that’s your sister arriving hours early with her brood…” Aunt Cleo left it right there as Uncle David slowly got to his feet. He was wearing a worried expression on his face. His sister was known for coming over much earlier than expected with her family on special occasions to fluster Aunt Cleo. Jenny leaned over to whisper something in Jamal’s ear. They both glanced across the table at Matt and me.

“Uh, rude,” I said in a pointed manner. They could take their secrets and shove it.

Matt checked his watch, then flashed a brilliant smile. “That should be my surprise, a tad earlier than expected but never mind.”

Seconds later, Uncle David called out, “Cleo, I think you should come in here, babe.”

Babe. Oh shit. Uncle David only called her babe when he knew there would be hell to pay down the line. It was his way of pre-emptively soothing her internal beast so it wouldn’t wake.

Aunt Cleo was up from her seat, making her way out the kitchen.

“What did you do?” I asked, jumping to my feet. Jenny and Jamal were getting up from the table and hurrying out of the kitchen. Matt sat there, perplexed at our sudden anxiousness.

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