Page 148 of Good For Me

Jas

“Jas, will you pass me that red pepper?”

I hand the vegetable over to Daltrey, who goes to work chopping. “This is starting to smell amazing,” I tell him, taking a big sniff of the garlic, onions, and oil simmering on the stove.

“We do stir fry like three or four times a week,” he says, laughing. “It’s easy to make a ton of it to feed everyone. And you can bulk it up with more rice when someone else’s kids drop by, which happens pretty much daily.”

It won’t be happening tonight, though. River specifically requested a meal with just his family—the “Harrises”— so it doesn’t feel like such an event. After the week we had, anything else would feel overwhelming.

“What the hell is this?” Daisy asks, coming into the kitchen. She points at her husband. “You’re supposed to be making dinner.”

He shrugs, looking a little guilty. “Jas wanted to help.”

“Jas is a guest. And pregnant.”

Daltrey raises an eyebrow. “Seriously? Because every time I tried to do things for you when you were pregnant, you told me not to be a condescending asshole because you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.”

I duck my head over the rice I’m measuring to hide my laughter. I freaking love River’s mom.

“That was different,” she says. “Jas is carrying my first grandchild. That means we treat her like a queen.”

I look up and roll my eyes at her. “No thanks. I have no desire to be babied either, Daisy.” I shrug. “Besides, I like cooking. It reminds me of working with my grandpa in the diner.”

I wait for the stab of pain to pierce me, but the ache is pretty shallow. I’ve been working on that since my conversation with Mr. Ransome—forcing myself to talk more about my grandpa, to not keep it all bottled up inside like a poison I was scared to let escape. I’ve only had one session with my new therapist, but she assured me that it would help.

Daisy’s face softens. “You can cook in our kitchen anytime,” she says. “I know you don’t have much to work with in that rental house.”

River and I have been talking about maybe finding something on our own but I figure he can talk to his parents about that when he’s ready. She slides in between me and Daltrey and grabs another pepper to chop.

“So you’re calling it the first grandchild now?” Daltrey asks, bumping her hip with his. “Not your bonus baby anymore?”

She sighs. “I’m coming to terms with the fact that I’m going to be a grandmother. I really am that old.”

He laughs. “You’re just as beautiful as the day I met you.”

She looks at me and rolls her eyes. “He’s full of shit. I was five the day he met me.”

“You were a beautiful kid and you’re a beautiful woman.” He grins wickedly. “And you’ll be a beautiful granny.”

I laugh as Daisy narrows her eyes at her husband. “Oh, you’re just hilarious, Gramps.”

He just laughs, leaning in to kiss her.

“God, I’m starving,” a voice from the patio calls. I look up to see River entering the kitchen from outside with Ash—they’ve been out on the mini ramp for the last half hour. Ash is working on a heelflip. It kind of kills me that I can’t help show him how it’s done, but River assures me there will be plenty of time for us both to teach our own kid how to skate.

Ash takes one look at his parents—who are still kissing—and groans. “Can you guys like, not? That’s so gross.”

I meet River’s eyes, loving the sight of his grin, knowing he’s thinking about our conversation at Ruby’s last week. My future scenario in which our kid would complain about us kissing. I hadn’t realized I was pretty much describing River’s parents.

Warmth fills my chest as I go back to the rice. If we’re half as happy as Daisy and Daltrey, we’re going to be doing pretty damn good.

“So you think kissing is gross?” Violet asks her twin as she skips into the kitchen. “You better not tell your newgirlfriendthat. She might cancel your date.”

The whole kitchen goes silent as we all turn to look at Ash. His face has gone beet red and he’s glaring at his twin. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

She grins. “But you do have a date.”

“You have a date?” Daltrey asks, sounding more than a little shocked.