Page 77 of Rough Hard Fierce (Chicago Underground 1-3)
“She wants to have dinner,” I told Colin.
He nodded slowly.
“At Philip’s house,” I said.
He gave me a sympathetic grimace.
I suppose that was the best I could hope for. Perhaps this “meet the family” would go better than the first time around, but it could hardly be worse. My issues with Philip were mostly over now that Andrew was out of the picture. And besides, I doubted he would spend much time talking to me, judging by last time. Rose had apologized and offered this dinner as an olive branch, if I’d understood correctly. Maybe it was even a sort of welcome.
It wouldn’t exactly be fun, but this was part of a real relationship. A family dinner, I mused. It was almost quaint in its normalcy.
I narrowed my eyes at Colin. “If I’m going to deal with all that,” I said, “you’d better put out.”
He gave me a small, mysterious smile before he took a bite of his pancakes.
Chapter Fourteen
The week that followed was a honeymoon of sorts…if you subtracted wedding vows and an exotic locale and added a toddler. But then I’d always done things ass backward.
Colin took us to Navy Pier, where we visited the children’s museum and gorged ourselves on corn dogs and ice cream. A fearless Bailey demanded we ride the giant Ferris wheel, and Colin indulged her. Only after the pair emerged from the cab covered in upchucked corn dog did he admit that perhaps I’d been right after all. We visited the aquarium, where Bailey squealed as she touched a prickly starfish and dragged us all to the splash zone. Colin even got us tickets to a community theater production of Mary Poppins, though we discovered Bailey preferred to sing her own soundtrack and left at intermission.
It was amazing. Really, it was. If I felt an undercurrent of frantic energy, then it was just relief at my newfound freedom. And if it seemed that Colin was desperate to experience everything, to give us everything we wanted, it was just due to the newness of our happiness. It had to be.
Philip called constantly. At first Colin would answer, excusing himself to speak in tense, hushed tones. After a while he turned his phone off.
“Will it be okay?” I didn’t know how much we really relied on Philip, especially financially. “I know you do work for him…”
“Don’t worry,” Colin said. “He’ll get over it.”
When I looked at him for more, he ran his thumb along my lips. A tender shut up.
That eased my worry—somewhat. It seemed we could get along just fine without Philip, but if there was major damage to their sibling relationship, Colin might regret his time with me.
The dinner party was still set for tomorrow, so we’d see then just how angry Philip was. I doubted he took well to being ignored.
I’d offered to make a dessert to bring with us. Colin suggested wine, but I thought dessert would be more personal. Make it clear I was willing to put in an effort. Besides, that way Rose wouldn’t have to worry about making it. Colin had chuckled at me then, but he’d agreed to text Rose and let her know.
I pulled the packages of fresh strawberries from the paper grocery bag. Since we’d witnessed the first tendrils of spring, I’d decided on a strawberry-rhubarb crumble.
From her high chair Bailey chomped on a bowl of diced strawberries while I went to work on the rest. A knock on the door stopped me midchop.
I peeked out the window beside the door and saw a short, wide person standing there. I unlatched the chain, flipped the dead bolt, and opened the door a foot. “Hello?”
“Oh, hi.” The woman wore an overlarge white shirt with a picture of a kitten on it and tight, black leggings. Her hair was in disarray, a mop of ringlets, and her face crinkly. Despite all that she managed to look fresh and bright, her cheeks rosy and her eyes sparkling merrily like some ginger-haired Mrs. Claus. “I’m looking for Mouse, my cat Mouse. I haven’t seen him in…oh, it’s been a full day now, and—”
She paused when I opened the door wider to reveal the orange cat sprawled on our ottoman.
“Mouse,” she cried. “You horrible cat, look at you, making yourself right at home.”
Ah, so Mouse had a home, and it wasn’t here. That couldn’t be disappointment. I had no desire to keep a cat, and definitely not this one, so presumptuous and rotund. Not very mousy, either. Well, I told myself, thank God for that. To the woman I said, “He just started coming around, so—”
“Of course,” she said. “You wouldn’t know he was ours, what with us being so new here. I haven’t even had time to come around and say hello to you guys. Oh! What am I saying? I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Linda. What was your name, dear?”
“Allie,” I said quickly, feeling like I’d been sent to the nurse’s office. Not that she was examining me or sending me home or anything, just that was the last time a woman had really spoken to me.
“Allie,” she said. “You don’t mind if I call you that, do you? I hope you don’t think I was too rude, just moving in and not saying a word, and then coming around to find my cat on your furniture. He knows better than that. You know better than that, Mousy! That’s what cat trees are for.”
She paused for breath, watching me expectantly.
