Page 49 of A Match Made In Evan
“Yeah, and I lost my virginity at fifteen,” I tell him.
“Don’t remind me,” he huffs. “I was jealous for weeks.”
A smirk curls my lips and I can’t resist asking, “Of me? Or of her?”
“Shut up,” he snorts and headbutts my shoulder. Then he sighs. “A bit of both, I think.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re never letting go of my childhood crush on you, are you?”
“Not on your life.”
***
The next morning is tense in the Durant household. Jay barely slept, tossing and turning all night, keeping me awake in turn. Not that my brain wasn’t whirring all night on its own anyway. We’re like the walking dead when we pull ourselves out of bed, a shared morning shower doing very little to wake either of us up. The fact that we don’t even fool around under the warm spray is also telling of our moods.
We’re in the kitchen, sipping at mugs of delicious, delicious caffeinated goodness when Mia tiptoes in cautiously, her eyes downcast and her bottom lip raw and swollen from being gnawed at.
She peeks up at us, giving me a flash of dark circles beneath reddened eyes, the blue of her irises popping against the red, then looks back at her feet, seemingly frozen.
“Mimi,” Jay infuses the softly spoken word with a thousand complex emotions, “sweetheart…”
She throws herself at him, sobbing before his arms have had time to wind around her back. There are words in there somewhere —apologies, mostly— and James just holds her and murmurs in her ear. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I don’t need to. He’ll be reassuring her that he loves her, that he’s there for her, that things will be okay.
He’s been in her shoes. As much as his paternal urges to go and maim a teenage boy are railing inside him, he’s a good dad who knows that the best thing he can do for her is support her. Besides, I told him about how terribly she’s been beating herself up, and I don’t think there’s anything he could say to her that she hasn’t already thought about herself. I imagine he knows what she’s feeling more than I ever could, too.
“Do you want breakfast?” he asks her as she withdraws from the extended hug. He gestures towards me and grins. “Ev can make funny shape pancakes.”
Instead of protesting that she’s not a little kid anymore, the way she always does when we reference experiences from her younger years, she sniffles and nods. “With chocolate chips?”
I roll my eyes affectionately. “Is there any other way?”
We don’t mention the elephant in the room as I make the batter, nor as I pour it into the frypan, nor as we sit down to eat the sugary treats.
However, I know Jay and Mia need to talk without me hanging around. Knowing that he’ll confide in me later, I give his shoulder a squeeze after I’ve packed the breakfast plates into the dishwasher.
“I’m going to head into work for a bit,” I tell him, explaining with my eyes that he should take the opportunity to actually talk to Mia. “Let me know if you need anything while I’m out.”
It’s the most domestic I’ve felt yet, and I barely stop myself from bending to press my lips to his in a quick kiss goodbye.
Jay reaches up and pats my hand on his shoulder. “Cheers,” he says, licking his lips as if having the same thought I just did.
“You’re being weird,” Mia declares, and we both turn our heads to face her.
I casually remove my hand from James’ shoulder as he says, “Forgive me if I don’t know exactly how to act right now,” in a tone that’s both defensive and a little accusatory. I smack him upside the head.
“Stop it,” I hiss at him, gesturing towards Mia. She’s slumped forward in her chair, her expression crestfallen. “Remember how that felt, yeah?”
James swallows and nods, his own expression crumpling with regret. He sighs heavily and says, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Let’s go cuddle on the couch and talk, okay?”
“Text me if you need anything,” I remind them both, then shoo them out of the kitchen and into the living room.
I grab my laptop bag, still unopened from where I dropped it on the kitchen bench yesterday, and sling it over my shoulder. I hesitate for a moment at the front door, my gaze lingering on the two most important people in my life —huddled together on the couch and murmuring in low voices— before I force myself to head outside and into my car.
***
I’m distracted all day. I can barely pay attention to the figures on my computer screen, the excel formulas —my favourite part of the job, and my pride and joy— all jumbling together and making no sense to me. I can’t stop thinking about James and Mia. Whether he managed to keep his own panic aside to talk to her properly, and whether she opened up about the little douche-canoe she was dating (who, I should add, did not reply to any of her calls or texts yesterday) and about how she’s been sneaking around behind our backs.
