Soaring (Magdalene #2)(122)
Author: Kristen Ashley

“Yes,” I repeated.

He handed my purse to me. “Get ’em out.”

“Mickey, I—”

“Let’s go, babe. I’m starved and Ash has dinner ready.” My mouth dropped open as his eyes moved to the TV. “Fuck. That’s on. I’ll get that.”

He then sauntered to the TV, turned it off and then turned off all the lamps I had lit.

After that, he came back to me.

“Keys?” he prompted.

“Are you saying…am I…am I spending the night at your place?” I stammered.

“You had a shit day,” he replied. “You lost someone you knew. Don’t know how tight you were with her. Do know it fucked with you. So you’re not gonna sit over here alone and you’re not gonna sleep alone. You’re comin’ over. Broke the news to the kids that we lost Mrs. McMurphy today. They’re not feelin’ good about it, just like you. So we’re gonna have dinner and hang and then you’re gonna sleep beside me, mostly so I can sleep beside you and know you’re okay. The kids know you’re spendin’ the night. They get why in more ways than one. And they want you over. So, keys out, Amy, so we can lock up and get home so I can eat.”

I felt tears hit my eyes again.

“Babe,” he said impatiently, “cry over at my place. We’ll hole up in my room. But at least after I get you through that, all I gotta do is walk to my kitchen so I can stuff my face.”

I licked my lips, rolled them and took a breath through my nose.

Then I bent my head, dug out my keys and walked out the door.

Mickey followed me.

I locked my door.

Mickey grabbed my hand and walked us to his place.

We didn’t hole up in his room.

By the time we got there, I’d pulled myself together.

So when we got there, there was no delay in Mickey stuffing his face.

* * * * *

Like Mickey did with my kids, but with more practice, me and the Donovans cleaned up the kitchen after dinner.

Through dinner, I could tell the kids were a bit stunned by the news, but since they’d only met her a couple of times, mostly they were cautious and watchful over me.

It was sweet.

It wasn’t until we had the kitchen cleared and we were camped out in front of the TV that Cillian stated loudly, “Okay. I’m just gonna say it. She was a nutty old lady and she was funny. Why can’t we think about the funny? If she was right in the head and here right now, wouldn’t she want us to think of her and how funny she was?”

“Cill,” Ash, who had elected not to close herself in her room that evening, snapped.

“I’m being serious,” he shot back. “I mean, I didn’t know her when she was right in the head, but if I ever got not right in the head I’d want people to think I’m funny instead of worrying about me and bein’ sad. And after I’m gone, I’d want them to remember me that way. That’s a whole lot better than bein’ sad.”

“Maybe Amy feels like being sad,” Aisling retorted. “She knew her better than you.”

“I stole her umbrella,” I announced into this discussion.

All three pairs of Donovan eyes came to me.

“Come again, baby?” Mickey asked cautiously.

I told them the story of her taking a stroll in the cold rain on a warm sunny day and then shared, “So before I left today, I went into her room and stole that umbrella.” I looked to Cillian. “I had no idea why I did it until you said what you said, kiddo. Now I know I did it because when she did what she did, it made me smile. But I’d wanted to laugh. And I wanted to remember that about her. I took that umbrella because I never want to forget her and I always want to remember how she made me want to laugh.”

“See?” Cillian said to Aisling.

Before Ash could retort, I told them something they knew. “She thought I was a Nazi.”

And then I started giggling.

Uncontrollably.

“She told me you had a poison pill in your tooth,” Cillian shared through my giggles, smiling at me. “And you better use it because she’d told the Office of Strategic Services on you.”

I started laughing harder.

“She told me your cell phone was some secret Nazi coding machine and you were sending messages direct to Joseph Goebbels,” Aisling added.

At that, I was forced to fall sideways because Mickey’s arm curved around me and he pulled me into him as I started laughing hysterically.

“One thing can be said, the woman knew her history,” Mickey observed drolly and I curled my face into his chest to mute my cackles.

And I loved to feel his chuckles, hear them and his children laughing with me.

It took a while and I was just sobering when Ash asked, “I’m pretty sure Mrs. McMurphy liked Rice Krispie treats because everyone likes Rice Krispie treats so we should celebrate her life with Rice Krispie treats. Who’s with me?”

“Totally!” Cillian cried. “With peanut butter.”

“No, darlin’,” Mickey put in and I shifted my face so my cheek was to his shoulder as he went on, directing this at his daughter, “Chocolate chips.”

“Chocolate chips and peanut butter,” Cillian bargained.

Mickey sent an easy grin to his boy. “Good compromise, son.”

“Cill, you’re on marshmallow duty,” Aisling ordered, pushing out of the couch.

Cillian didn’t push out of the couch. He vaulted over the back.

Mickey’s arm around me gave me a squeeze and I tipped my head to look up at him. I also noticed how he grabbed his girl’s hand as she walked by him and gave that a squeeze too. And through this, I didn’t miss her looking down at her dad and giving him a sweet smile.

When she was gone and the kids were in the kitchen making Rice Krispie treats, he turned his attention to me.

“Better?” he asked.

I loved him.

Totally loved him.

I mean, how could you not love a man who helped you end a day where the world lost a soul that had touched your heart, doing it guiding you to it giggling with his family and eating peanut butter, chocolate chip Rice Krispie treats?

“Better,” I whispered.

He dipped in and touched his mouth to mine.

Then he turned his eyes back to the TV.

I stayed tucked close, rested my cheek back to his shoulder and did the same.

* * * * *

It was late, hopefully Donovan family bedtime because I was tired, and I was coming back from the bathroom when I ran into Ash in the hallway.