Soaring (Magdalene #2)(110)
Author: Kristen Ashley

“He said the f-word, Mickey.”

Mickey started chuckling.

I didn’t find it funny.

“Twice,” I stated.

“Bet he says it a lot more around his buds.”

This did not make me happy and I looked to the door.

“Babe, advice,” he went on. “Seriously. Listen to this shit. Back off. He’s findin’ the man he’s gonna be. You gotta give him space to let him.”

“He should respect his mother and not curse,” I declared.

“Do you honestly give a shit about cursing?” he asked incredulously.

“You doing it as a grown man, no. Auden doing it at sixteen, yes.”

“You call him on it?”

“Carefully.”

“Then make it be known that in your house and to you and your daughter, he shows you that respect. After that, back off. That is, unless he keeps doin’ it.”

“Right,” I mumbled.

“Brady Bunch action is definitely gonna take time,” he stated, and I knew he meant by this that it would be only him for dinner. We’d do the blending of kids at a later date, which was a relief. “So this dinner has gotta happen next week after the kids go to Rhiannon. Scheduled off at the house on Tuesday. See if they can make it then.”

“I’ll talk to them, Mickey. Do you like coleslaw?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Because Auden placed his order for dinner with the man Mom’s dating and it includes coleslaw. I already know you like barbeque chicken, which is the other menu item he selected.”

“Totally a sixteen-year-old boy. His mom tells him she’s got a new man, he’s worried about what he’s gonna eat.”

That made me smile and settled other things inside me.

Mickey kept talking, “But you don’t have a grill.”

“Slow roasted barbeque pulled chicken,” I told him.

“Shit, it’s after ten and now I’m hungry.”

And another smile.

“You goin’ to bed?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Wish that was happening beside me,” he muttered.

And with that, everything settled inside me.

“Me too,” I told him quietly.

“Monday,” he said.

That seemed a long way away.

“Monday,” I agreed.

“Right, Amy. Lettin’ you go. Sleep good, baby.”

“You too, Mickey. ’Night.”

“’Night.”

We rang off and I got ready for bed.

Once in it, I tossed and turned and didn’t sleep.

I wanted to believe that the fierceness coming from my son was a protective instinct for me. I would even like to know if Mickey was right about Auden looking at his father and wondering if he’d become that man.

But I didn’t think it was either.

I thought it was something else.

Something that drove both my kids from their father to me.

Something I was going to have to find a way to figure out.

For them.

Not me.

* * * * *

“I’m not liking this,” I said two days later, standing in Jake’s office at the gym, watching through the window, Jake and Mickey in the ring sparring.

“I know,” Josie, standing next to me replied. “Actually, I don’t know. Jake never loses. To anyone. Even Mickey, who’s quite formidable, but still, he’s only second best in the league. Jake was once a professional boxer so you shouldn’t feel any less of Mickey. Jake fought pay-per-view. He was quite something. Thus, I can’t say I know how it feels that Mickey’s losing.”

I couldn’t even think of Mickey losing. And I didn’t suspect anyone was losing since they were only sparring with a throng of young men from age eleven to eighteen standing around watching.

The junior boxing league signups and gear handouts. The reason I was there. So I could watch the boys get fitted for the gear that I’d made it so they could have for their season.

No, I was thinking that I hated the idea that Mickey boxed. I could barely watch my son roll around on a mat struggling to pin his opponent.

I hated watching Jake punch Mickey even if Mickey was punching back.

I’d hate it more if they were doing it to win.

But what I hated most of all was the heretofore unknown knowledge that Mickey was a member of the adult league which, like the junior league, was again starting its season.

Now, how exactly was Mickey going to do all he did and train to box and actually box?

“He has two jobs, two kids, a girlfriend and he’s starting his own company,” I stated. “How on earth is he going to find time to train so he doesn’t get his ass kicked?”

“Jake owns two businesses, has three children and a wife. He does it.”

I looked to Josie. “One of his businesses is a boxing gym.”

She looked to me. “Yes, but someone must run it. He can’t train all the time.”

Even though I didn’t think Jake had it as bad as Mickey, I asked, “Okay, so how does he juggle all that?”

“He found himself a wife.”

A thrill shot through me.

Interrupting this thrill, a cheer came from the gym and Josie and I looked that way.

Jake was spitting out his mouth guard and Mickey was leaning on the thing at the corner of the ring, his guard already out, and he was using his teeth to pull open the Velcro grips on his gloves while Jake started addressing the boys.

I studied Mickey thinking it could not be denied, in his loose track pants with his skintight, short-sleeved shirt, leaning casually against a corner thing of a boxing ring, that he looked exceptionally hot, even with his headgear on.

I still hoped he didn’t want me to go watch him beat someone up while taking a beating.

“I hope he doesn’t ask me to his fights,” I muttered this thought aloud.

“Oh yes you do.”

Josie’s strange tone of voice made me look at her. “Why?”

She visibly tore her eyes from her husband and looked at me. “Fight night.”

I felt my brows draw together. “I’m sorry?”

“Fight night starts with the fight but it ends in far more pleasant activities,” she explained.

The look on her face, it was dawning on me.

But she kept going.

“Win or lose, though as you know I don’t know about losing, but Alyssa does, and I’m very aware that even when Junior loses, Alyssa’s favorite night of any night is fight night.”

“So they…” I trailed off.

“Yes,” she stated firmly.