Page 122 of The Stand (Out) In
‘Hey, Teddy.’ I turn to face him, giving Heather a moment to straighten her clothes. ‘How much money did your daddy give you to come and check?’ Heather steps away sliding me a reproachful look. Red cheeked, she hip-checks me as she picks up the tray and I reach for her again.
‘A pound!’ he announces. The kid’s volume button is broken. He only does silent or loud. And he’s only ever silent when he’s sleeping, I think.
‘Next time, come and find me and I’ll double it for you to keep our secret.’
The little boy’s eyes light up, and his smile is so big, it leaves him all eyes and ears.No space for anything else. ‘I was wrong! Daddy, you were wrong! There is no penising going on in the kitchen!’
‘Oh, for goodness sakes.’ Miranda hurriedly follows her son in, taking the tray from Heather’s hands before turning back to Teddy, moving him bodily towards the door while ignoring his complaints about of being two pounds short. ‘We said kissing,’ she whisper-hisses to him. ‘See if they were kissing. Where on earth did you hear that word.’
‘You said it to daddy the other day. You said that if he wasn’t good—’
‘Stop telling stories, Theodore.’
‘Stop pushing me, Mummy.’
As Heather makes to follow her cousin, I catch her around the waist, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. She melts instantly, just as I knew she would. ‘We’re not having kids for at least another five years, right?’
‘I’m fine with the practice for now.’
‘You’re talking about sex, right? Not babysitting or work.’
‘Archer, stop stalling. We need to go back to our guests.’
‘I love your family, you know.’
‘I know.’ She smiles. ‘They know, too.’
‘I mean, Daniel is a pain in the arse, but he’s okay in small doses.’
‘The smaller the better,’ she agrees. ‘But why are you telling me now? Because if I tell them, they’ll only take the piss. If I tell you, well, you get it.’
Because as I was sure I’d never find anyone who felt like my home. And now, by virtue of loving Heather, I’ve got a houseful of the fuckers. Family. People who insist on doing stuff like this for me. Birthday parties. I mean.
I don’t know, you tell one (special) person you’ve never had a birthday party and next thing, you’re having one every year.
‘So this present of yours. Are you going to give me a hint?’
‘It might start withsand end inx,I think.’
‘A superhelix?’
‘Now, how would I get one of those in a Box?’ she asks, turning in my arms.
‘The same way you get sex in a box, I suppose.’
‘You’re crazy.’
‘It’s true. You know what else I’m crazy for? You.’
But do you know what else is in a box?
Yep, a ring.
And the best thirtieth birthday gift would be to hear her say. . . yes.
so read on!
