Page 65 of A Match Made In Evan
If anyone would have told me that a crazy fake-engagement would lead to the most rewarding relationship of my life, I would have laughed in their face. I’m glad I went along with my daughter’s harebrained scheme. And, though she still tells us it’s weird, I think that, secretly, she’s happy for us, too.
Epilogue
Evan – One Year Later
“Dads,” Mia whines, “Joey’s stolen my MAC lipstick again.”
From where I’m chopping up salad veggies at the kitchen bench, I sigh, then lean towards the hallway and call back, “Joe, give it back! I’ll take you shopping for your own on the weekend!”
“What happened to that whole ‘no more kids’ thing, again?” Jay asks from his spot on the other end of the counter, where he’s seasoning the minced beef for the hamburger patties we’ll be throwing onto the barbeque in a couple of hours. “Because I’m pretty sure we’ve got two now.”
He’s not entirely wrong. Joey has been staying over at our place more frequently lately. He came out to his parents at thestart of the new school year and, while his dad didn’t hurt him, his home life has been uncomfortable at best. Jay and I made it clear that our door is always open to him and, as such, he’s practically moved in.
“Didn’t Mia always ask for a sibling?” I ask, and James snorts.
“She asked for a little sister when she was five. I bought her one of those dolls that wets itself instead and the novelty lasted all of a week before she was asking if she could just have a puppy instead.”
“Joe’s kind of like a puppy.” He’s got the boundless energy of a golden retriever, anyway.
“He does sneak into her room and steal her things,” he agrees. Then he cocks his head. “Since when do you know anything about shopping for makeup?”
While he’s not actually our foster kid or adoptee, I’ve been treating Joey like he is because I know there’s no way his parents would be okay with him exploring his interest in fashion and makeup. He has a wardrobe full of more feminine clothes (most of which I bought him to get him to stop pilfering from Mia’s collection), and now we’re going to work on expanding his makeup supplies.
“I don’t,” I admit. “But Jack’s partner, Leo, is apparently good with it. Dolls himself right up.”
I pull out my phone and bring up the photo Jack sent me of him and Leo on their last date night. In it, Jack’s boyfriend’s eyes pop with a splash of glittery eyeshadow and bold fake eyelashes, and his already sharp cheekbones seem even more striking because of whatever contouring he did. He’s stunning, but not my type. I still prefer my men bigger, with blond hair and cuddly dad bods. “See? He’s volunteered to come along. Said he’ll even give Joey some lessons.”
“Thank God,” Jay breathes. “No offence, honey, but I was worried you’d end up making him look like a clown.”
“I happen to know my own strengths and limitations, thanks,” I tease back. “Unlike the time you took Mia formal dress shopping.” Having my stepdaughter call me near tears because her dad was picking her the most conservative dresses he could find is an experience I will hold over his head for eternity.
He pouts. “I can’t help it if I think women are sexy with a bit of mystery.”
“You went into Neanderthal Dad mode and I had to rescue her.”
“Oooh,” Joey saunters in and steals a slice of cheese from the plate I’ve set aside, “are we talking about James’ terrible fashion sense again?”
“I do not have terrible fashion sense,” my boyfriend, bless his cotton-nylon blend socks, growls. “And don’t eat all the food before we can turn it into dinner.”
“Daddy James is mad,” Joey stage-whispers to me, specifically to get a reaction.
James, naturally, doesn’t disappoint. He groans. “Don’t call me that. You know I hate it.”
I shake my head, trying really, really hard (read: not trying at all) to mask my amusement. “You know he only does it because you react that way.”
“When do you turn eighteen again?” James asks our not-actually-adopted kid. “Because once you’re eighteen, you’re officially an adult and will become Centrelink’s problem.”
“Dad, that’s mean,” Mia saunters into the kitchen, as if she hadn’t just been whining about Joey stealing her things. “You won’t kick him out.” She reaches out and smooshes Joey’s cheeks with one hand, forcing him into the whole ‘duckface’ pout. “Look at this face. You love him.”
Joey gets points for just rolling with it.
“That’s debatable,” James mutters under his breath. I lob a chunk of onion at him. “Hey!” he complains. “No throwing food.One, it’s a waste. Two, you’ll be the one cleaning up.” Then he reaches out and slaps Joe’s hand away from the cheese. “And stop eating it all!” Turning to me he says, “It’s like we never feed them.”
“I’m a growing boy,” Joey insists. He bats his lashes at us, trying to make himself look like the Puss In Boots gif, all pitiful and such. “Don’t you want me to grow up big, and strong, and capable of finding a sexy man of my own?”
“Gross,” Jay declares, scrunching up his nose. “I don’t want to think about my kids’ love lives.”
“Ah ha!” Joe throws his hands in the air and then points both index fingers at James. “Youdothink of me as your kid.”
