Page 259 of Summer Heat
Cole’s first day of work in Chicago is Monday. He brought all his stuff with him on this trip and is moving in with Aubry and me. Aimee had asked—before this ordeal—if I thought it was too sudden. I replied, “I’ve lived with him all my life, how could it be too sudden?”
We know each other better than we know ourselves, there’s no point in doing the whole “You get your own place, and I’ll keep mine” thing. Besides, I live with Aubry. How weird would it be to tell Cole he can’t move in with me? I snort at the thought—as if he’d be okay with that.
We stay on the farm for the better part of our afternoon before heading to see Maggie. We had promised her that we would have dinner at the house and stay the night if it got too late. I guess we were staying the night after all. We walk up the creaky porch steps, and Cole mumbles something about fixing it in the morning. I knock on the door when we reach it. We all still have a key, but I feel weird using it. Cole jams his key into the hole and turns it before I stop his hand and glare at him.
“What?” he shrugs.
“We don’t live here anymore, Cole.”
Maggie opens the door as we are about to argue and shakes her head at us.
“Blake, this will always be your house. Let the boy use his key.”
I smile at Maggie. Her hair has gotten whiter and her face has creased with age, but her brown eyes still glow with gentle wisdom. She hugs me, and I put my arms around her wide hips. She and I are about the same height. Greg used to always call us “shorties”—but then again, he used to call anybody who had a vagina that. I follow her to the kitchen while Cole takes our bags upstairs. I wonder if he’s going to put them in my room or his. This is the first time we’ve been back here as a couple. I know he’s not even going to pretend that we’re sleeping in separate rooms, though.
“So you and Cole finally getting along again?” Maggie asks, stirring the pot.
I smile. “You can say that.”
“Hmmm,” she badgers with a knowing smile. “Does that mean you’ll be making babies soon?”
“Umm...no, that’s not what it means at all,” I reply, resisting an eye roll. “We’re taking it slow.”
“Slow?” she laughs. “Since when have you known Cole to take anything slow?”
I laugh. “Okay, fine. He just moved in with me and Aubry.”
She throws her head back in laughter. “That boy has been crazy about you since the minute you stepped foot in this house.”
“Still am, Mags. Still am,” Cole booms as he walks into the conversation. Our eyes lock, and he gives me his wide smile, showcasing the dimple on his right cheek.
“Boy, you better take care of her heart. That’s all I’ll tell you. She was so hurt all those years. I could hear her heart breaking from across the table during Christmas dinners,” Maggie chides.
“Her own fault,” Cole replies, sticking a piece of bread in his mouth. “She broke up with me, remember? And she never wanted to give me another chance.”
I roll my eyes at his statement.
“Cole, stop talking with your mouth full. It’s disgusting,” I groan. “And please let’s get off the topic of how I broke up with you and how you took advantage of that to sleep with every girl that acknowledged you. Let’s drop it.” I sigh. “Maggie, I have some things I need to ask you. Important things. Actually, we both do.”
Maggie takes a deep breath. “I always knew you’d come back asking questions that I don’t have answers to,” she says sadly.
“I brought photos to show you. It’s...it’s very complicated, and we can’t tell many people about it,” I explain.
Maggie turns off the stove and sits down. “Photos of what,
exactly?” she asks while wiping her hands on her apron.
I ask Cole to run upstairs and get me the envelope I brought. When he comes back, he hands it to me with a kiss and sits beside me. My chair squeaks loudly on the hardwood floors as he pulls it closer to his.
“Photos of my childhood...our childhood,” I clarify, looking at Cole.
“Both of your childhoods?” Maggie asks with a frown. “Your Aunt Shelley didn’t bring you here as a child.”
“Maggie, that’s why I said it’s complicated,” I interrupt as I hand her one of the photos of Cole and I standing next to each other by some chickens in the barn.
She gasps loudly and places her hands over her mouth, her brown eyes looking at us in complete shock.
“Holy mother of pearl, that’s Cole,” Maggie says as she gapes at me. “Is that you, Blake?”
