Page 57 of Sleeper: The Palisades Edition

“And also, if you think I can’t handle a little nookie with someone just because he’s got an impressive list of credits on IMDB, then you don’t know me as well as you think you do either.”

“Oh, crap. You’ve already done the deed, haven’t you?”

“Nobody calls it doing the deed anymore.”

“How would you know? You’re about as hip as I am.”

“I love you, Grammie, but I have a lot to do today. Can I call you some other time?”

“As long as you’re still doing things for yourself, yes.”

“I am. Thank you for calling. I’m sure Nico would love to hear from you—maybe you could ask him why he hasn’t settled down with a serious girlfriend in years!”

“I’m on it. I’ve got big plans for ruffling that boy’s feathers today too, you’d better believe it. I love you. I love Shane too—just don’t lose your head or your heart over him.”

She hangs up before I can assure her that I would never.

Ugh.

Grammie. She’s just lonely. She needs more hobbies.

I don’t have this kind of relationship with my mother because she’s always been too busy with my dad and her career to worry about the complications of my inner life.

Nice try, Grammie. You don’t know everything. I am perfectly capable of enjoying a little nookie without getting hurt.

Just because I’m stomping around the house while changing the sheets on my bed and getting a change of clothes for the twins and slamming cupboard doors looking for peppermint tea, that doesn’t mean I’m mad at Shane Miller for giving me such amazing orgasms and then not letting me go with him to pick up the kids.

Just because my eyes are stinging, that doesn’t mean I’m going to give him the cold shoulder for bolting before the sweat had dried.

Just because my heart starts racing and my stomach drops as soon as I hear the garage door open, that doesn’t mean I’m falling in love with him and am completely, utterly fucked.

I take a deep breath, check my reflection in the hall mirror like an idiot, briefly consider changing out of my sweat pants and T-shirt like an even bigger idiot, then go to the door to the garage so I can help him bring the kids in.

He’s picking Summer up out of her car seat. I go to the other door to help Lucky out of his, when Shane scoops Summer up into his arms—totally unlike the way he did that to me earlier. She is frowning and sucking her thumb—something I’ve never seen her do before. Lucky looks like a proud soldier who’s returning fromthe war, battle-weary but refusing to show his emotional scars.

“Hey, buddy. How you feeling?”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?” I lift him out of his car seat. He usually insists on getting out all by himself. “Your tummy still feel funny?”

“Yeah.”

I carry him inside, following behind Shane, who’s carrying Summer.

“Thanks,” Shane says, I assume to me. “We decided we’re gonna watch movies for the rest of the day. Want to join us?”

“Sure,” I answer, looking at Lucky. “For a while, anyway.”

As Shane carries Summer through the hallway past the kitchen, she removes her thumb from her mouth to say, “Snacks!”

“No more food for a while, kiddo. Willa’s gonna make us peppermint tea, though, right?”

“Comin’ up.”

Summer tries to climb over her dad’s shoulder, pointing at the kitchen door. “Cheese. I want cheese!”

“Later, Summer,” Shane says firmly. “We’ll have a late lunch. Later.”