Our Chance (Los Rancheros #4) (5 page)

I open a cabinet next to the table and point to the spot it went in before.

"Thanks," I mumble, watching his arms flex as he puts it on the shelf.

As he straightens, he says, "I'm going to get some work done."

We all watch him walk out, then I put a bright smile on my face and clap my hands as the timer goes off. "Alright! Let's do this!"

Sunday comes too fast, and with it our dinner at the Denton's. A cold front came in, so it's a little cooler, causing me to dress in a dark red turtleneck sweater, skinny jeans, and suede boots with my hair in a French braid down over my shoulder. The boys are in khakis and button down shirts, a sweater tunic, and leggings for Harper. They look so nice.

Even though the drive isn't long at all, I decide to take the van, not wanting the kids to have a chance to get dirty before we get there. Buzzing in at the new gate, we see all of the alpacas as we head to the house. There's black, white, red, and every color in between. They look so cute with their long necks and stout bodies. Harper is in love and immediately wants one for Christmas. Thank goodness that's a long way off. I don't think I can take on anything else right now, even with the help I'm getting.

I pull my four year old van up to the house that used to be as familiar to me as my parents’ or Granny's house. The siding is a light blue now, but it still has the same porch swing on the front. Glen and George come out the front door and tackle the kids before we can get to the steps. George is a huge man with a barrel chest. His heritage is Spanish on his mom's side, which is where Brody gets his swarthy looks.

Glen and Georgepush the kids into the house as I trail behind
.
The smells coming out of the front doo
r
are the same, too: wool and candle wax. Glen makes things with her alpaca wool and I've never been there without a candle going. It smells like home. As I pass the living room, I see the old TV has been replaced, but the couch is the same. I stare at the lumpy, old, green gingham and flash back to the sessions I had on that couch with a certain boy.

I shake my head and head to the kitchen where the kids are asking them a million questions. I set the Black Forest cake that I brought on the counter as Glen finally breaks away from the kids to get them drinks.

"Oh, lovey, you didn't have to do that! I made apple crumble cheesecake!" she exclaims, giving me a tight hug.

I squeeze her back. “But it's your favorite. And thank you for making mine!"

She waves a hand. "It's the least I could do after I invite you over here and Brody goes and invites that woman. Honestly, I don't know what he's doing."

I shrug. I don’t blame him for having a girlfriend. Not at all. I just don’t want to see her. Glen comes back and starts pulling bottles out of a cabinet. "I have just what we need to get through it, though. Don't you worry.”

“Holy shit, we’re getting tanked,” I say as I watch her pop the cork on a bottle of red wine. She sets it beside an iPod dock and goes to the fridge. With a lime and orange in hand, she comes back to me asking, "Do you remember that movie?
Practical Magic
?"

I laugh. "Of course I do! I only wanted to be a witch for forever."

She smiles back at me. "And I had to talk you out of stepping off of the roof with an umbrella."

She pushes play on her iPod then starts slicing the fruit, so I grab a knife and help. When I hear “Coconut" by Harry Nilsson coming from the speakers, I throw my head back and laugh loudly. Glen and I start moving our hips and singing. She puts the fruit in a round pitcher with the wine, ice, brandy, and triple sec. She gives the sangria a stir with a wooden spoon before using it as a microphone.

I grab another spoon from the cabinet, joining Glen as she dances over to the kids. We hold our spoons out to them to sing the 'Doctor' parts. We get the kids up and dancing with us, along with George, who is spinning with Harper. We mix the drink mixture with Sprite into wine glasses and keep dancing until George stops suddenly. Glen and I look at him, still laughing, then look to where his eyes are going to see Brody with a pretty, petite blonde. She's young, that's the first thing I notice. The second is her eyes are wide, like she can't imagine what we're doing.

My eyes go to Brody and he looks half-amused, half-annoyed with the scene he just walked into. Harper jumps forward.

"Brody! You brought your girlfriend! Hi, I'm Harper, Jules's daughter." She sticks out her hand like a grown up, and I have no idea why I'm shocked to see my seven year old act with manners, but I suddenly want to yank her back.

Maggie sticks her hand out and says her name in a soft voice. What is this woman doing with Brody? Glen asks her, "Maggie, dear, would you like some sangria?"

I mumble under my breath, "Better card her first." Glen snickers and swats my hand, reaching for a glass.

"Tea, please," comes the answer behind me. I roll my eyes and open the fridge. George meets me there, getting a beer out for him and his son.

I hold my hand out as I pass over the tea. "Hi, Maggie, it's nice to meet you."

She smiles and shakes my hand. "A pleasure, Jules." Her hands are cool and tiny, making me feel huge and old. I look to Brody when she does and see his eyes going back and forth between us warily. I smile hugely, enjoying his discomfort.

I turn to Glen and take the drink from her, chugging it back. This is going to be fun.

We sit down minutes later to homemade lasagna, with everyone making small talk. Glen puts down the pitcher between us with a thunk and Brody looks up, pissed at his mom's passive aggressive attitude. We hold hands for grace and I take Jet's small one in mine along with Glen's soft, older hand in the other.

"Heavenly Father, thank you for the bounty before us and our family made whole again. Amen,” George says.

I smile warmly at him then turn to Maggie. "So what do you do, Maggie?"

She smiles. "I teach."
A freaking teacher.

"What grade?"

"Kindergarten."

I look between my Jet and Maggie, suddenly uncomfortable. "Which school did you say?"

“Oh, I teach over on the coast. Where are your kids going this year?"

I can't help sagging in relief. I don't know what I would do if I had to see her all the time at the school.

"Juliet," Brody reprimands me in a quiet, stern voice. I meet his eyes with a pleasant expression; I know he can't blame me.

"Juliet?" Maggie asks. We all look to her and notice her expression has changed.

I point to my chest with my thumb. "Juliet."

Her eyebrows come down. "I thought you were Jules?"

George leans forward. "It's a nickname, honey."

She looks between Brody and me. "So... you are Juliet, his middle name is Romeo, and Glen is constantly talking about how amazing Juliet is and how she's the one that got away?"

My kids are all over this. Trigg starts laughing loud, pointing at Brody, "Romeo! HA! Romeo!"

Harper says, "I knew you guys were supposed to get together! Mom read us that book!"

I lean forward. "It's a play, dear."

Jet sits up suddenly. "Hey that's weird! Romeo dies, but you're alive and my dad is dead."

We all freeze and Glen's fork falls out of her hand, clanging loudly onto her plate. I swallow hard. "Jet—"

Brody speaks over me. "That's what's called irony, Jet. Terrible irony."

Jet scrunches up his face. "What's that?"

I explain, "It's like that song, when the guy who is afraid to fly gets on a plane for the first time and the plane crashes. Like that."

His face clears. "Oh, okay. I get it. Weird."

Maggie turns to me. "So you can tell me all about Brody when he was young. I understand you guys grew up together."

I nod cautiously before grabbing the pitcher and topping off my drink.

Glen holds her glass out, too. "We did. How long have you guys been dating?"

She smiles and leans her head on his shoulder. "Almost a year now. We've been talking about moving in together."

I pause with my drink to my lips and bring it back down. "Where?" Surely, surely he is not going to move her into my garage apartment.

"Oh, I have a condo on the beach. It's got a balcony and everything!"

My eyebrows go up. Condo. The Brody I used to know would hate that. He never wanted to live anywhere but on a farm. Then again, he was a freaking SEAL, so what do I know?

"Wow, that sounds awesome! Guess I should start looking for a new farm boy," I say.

Brody puts his elbows on the table as he leans forward. "I'm not a farm boy."

I wave him off. "Ranch hand, foreman? OH! How about Orchard Overhauler?!" I snort a laugh and realize the sangria is getting to me, because I stopped eating. I pick up my fork and set down my glass.

Maggie asks Brody, "What does she mean?"

He sighs. "Her grandmother is Mrs. Pierce. She left it to Jules."

I point to him with my fork. "He lives in my garage."

Maggie looks stricken and says softly, "I didn't realize."

George booms from the end of the table, "Wow! This is amazing lasagna. Hope you kids saved room for dessert!"

Trigg bounces in his seat. "I did! There's two. Grandma Glen's favorite and Mom's. I want both!" The other kids yell out their agreement.

I get up from the table and gather their plates, taking them to the sink. Glen dishes out two small slices of cake to each person and we sit down again.

Maggie takes a deep breath. "So, Mrs. Denton, which is your favorite?"

Glen smiles at her. "The Black Forest. The only time I get it anymore is on my birthday. It's such a treat that Juliet brought it tonight."

Brody gives his mom a dry look. "And you made her favorite, too?"

Glen looks sharply at her son. "Of course I did! She hasn't been home in over ten years! Why would I not make my girl her cheesecake?!"

Brody sighs and puts his arm around Maggie. You can see her fighting not to be insecure about all of this. I feel sorry for her. She had no idea what she was getting into tonight.

"So what do you do, Jules?"

Harper sits up straight and tells her, "Mom has a blog and does videos on YouTube."

Maggie raises her eyebrows and I can see some of her confidence coming back.

Trigg goes on. "Yeah, she makes a ton and wins awards and stuff." Well, I do love that boy. I shrug self-depricatingly.

"Plus, Mom just sold the house for a whack," Jet says loudly and holds his hand out for me to high five. I cough and high five him.

"Not that much. He just likes the word." I’m trying to explain to a kindergarten teacher why my pre-k'er is using this language. Not to say I don't think it's funny, because it is.

Trigg says with his mouth full, "Mom, you should drink up."

I instantly squint my eyes at him and ask suspiciously, "Why?"

He shrugs and eats more, so I look at Jet who caves immediately. "We wanna hear you play. You usually do when you start snorting."

"That is not flattering at all," I inform them.

Harper leans forward. "Will you play for us? Please, Mom."

I look from their pleading faces then over to Brody. "If I play, Brody has to, too."

Maggie asks, "Brody? Brody plays what?"

My eyebrows go up. Miss Maggie doesn't know he loves instruments? Interesting.

Glen pops up, saying hurriedly, "Oh yes! I'll get the guitars! I know right where they are!"

George says, "Well this is a treat. Both of you on the strings again."

I look to Brody, who is watching me, clearly grumpy. "I gave it up a long time ago."

I slowly shake my head. "You may have given up performing in front of people, but I bet you know how to play some new songs, Brody Denton." Not waiting for an answer, I get up to do the dishes. Brody is moody on a good day. He’s quiet, keeping everything hidden until he explodes. Playing the guitar did for him what video diaries has always done for me.

We all settle on the back patio with the two guitars that used to be George's. He taught us to play when we were really small. The only reason I cared to learn was to have that time with Brody. Glen made up a fresh batch of sangria while I cleaned up, so I take a drink and settle on the couch next to Brody.

We're at opposite ends with the middle cushion between us. We take the old guitars that still have the J+B scratched into the outside of one. I resist the urge to trace it with my finger. We got in a lot of trouble for that carving.

Brody does a chin lift to me and says, "Ladies first."

I roll my eyes and set up my hands to start my favorite Cher Lloyd song, called
Oath
, which is about promising to stay with your best friend and having a past with them. The kids clap and sing the words, they love this song. It’s about being someone’s best friend and how they can annoy the shit out of you, but are still the most important person to have at your side. After I'm done, I laugh and lower my head in a bow as everyone claps. Well, everyone but Brody.

I watch him as he eyes the strings he's strumming and compare him to a different time for a second. His hands are scarred now, forearms veined and thicker than I remember. His biceps flex as he plays and show through his gray button up shirt. I finally recognize the song and snicker.

He stops playing and looks up with sharp eyes. "What?"