Kristen Ashley - The Will

The bell rang at six-oh-four the next evening and I moved quickly to the front door, feeling the strange anticipation I’d been experiencing all day heightening significantly to the point I was finding it difficult to breathe.

I stopped at the carved, polished wood door and my mind for some reason took flight.

And where it landed was that I decided I should polish the door, as I had many times at Gran’s behest and as I’d seen her do many times as well.

I then turned my attention to my attire.

I’d gone for casual seeing as it was a home-cooked family dinner. Jeans that were expertly faded and again bootcut. Nude, patent leather platform pumps with peekaboo toes. And a blush colored cashmere sweater with a high neckline that was a slash from shoulder to shoulder. It had deep batwings but the wings ended just below my elbows and the knit was tight along my forearms.

Subtle makeup that was a hint dewy.

And my hair was pulled back in soft twists on either side that led to a plethora of slightly teased, full curls I’d arranged in a supremely feminine chignon at the back of my head.

The hairstyle was more suited to an evening gown but I liked its complex elegance juxtaposed with my casual garments, so I’d gone with it.

I realized I was thinking about my clothes while Jake and his son were standing outside waiting for me to open the door. Therefore, I stopped thinking about my clothes and opened the door.

When I did, I froze solid.

This was not because Jake Spear was standing there exuding his demanding masculinity wearing a dark blue turtleneck, faded jeans and brown boots (or, not only because of that).

This was also not because his young son was standing in front of him wearing a sweatshirt that declared his devotion to some sports team, his black hair was in disarray and he was staring up at me for some strange reason with his mouth wide open.

No, it was because, standing removed at her father’s side, was Jake Spear’s daughter wearing a surly expression, way too much makeup, having her hair teased out in a style that even Jake’s exotic dancers eschewed and sporting a short knit skirt that I knew, when she moved, would ride up in ways that would be quite alarming.

She was not supposed to be there.

I could, maybe, handle one child. But a child and a surly teenaged girl who dressed like her heart’s desire for a future profession was to dance at her father’s club?

No.

“Yo, babe,” Jake greeted and my eyes shot to him. “Woulda called but seein’ as Amber was grounded about two minutes before we left the house, it wouldn’t have helped anyway. So, as you can see, Amber’s here. If you don’t have enough food for her, I’ll order a pizza or something.”

I forced my lips to move in order to assure him, “I have enough food.”

“Great,” he replied.

I stood there.

They stood there too.

Then I realized I was standing there and that was rude so I turned my eyes to Amber.

“Hello, Amber. I’m Josephine. It’s lovely to meet you.”

She glared at me and muttered, “Whatever.”

“Babe,” Jake clipped at his daughter in a clear warning.

Her baleful eyes cut to him then back to me whereupon she mumbled, “’Lo.”

I decided to leave it at that and looked down to the boy.

“Hello, Ethan.”

He stared up at me for two seconds then bizarrely surged forward, threw himself bodily at me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing close.

I’d never had a child hug me. I’d never even had a child touch me. Therefore I didn’t know what to do and thus stood there with my hands slightly raised, staring down at his dark head hoping I wasn’t doing it in horror.

He didn’t seem to mind that I didn’t return his embrace. As quickly as he came forward, he released me, jumped back and looked up at me.

“Lydie talked about you all the time,” he announced.

That felt lovely, very lovely, but even so, I wished I could say the same.

However, I didn’t get to the chance to say anything because he kept speaking.

“You’re way prettier than she said and all your pictures.”

At least that was nice.

I decided a return compliment was in order so I gave him one.

“And you’re quite handsome.”

He grinned a grin I had to admit was rather adorable.

“Yeah. I know. Look like Dad and he’s the hottest dude in town,” he declared.

This was likely not in error.

“He is not,” Amber put in at this point, shoving forward and doing it grabbing her brother and taking him with her as they pushed past me. “Mickey’s way hotter than Dad. And Coert might be even hotter”

“Are not,” Ethan returned as they moved into the house.

“Are so,” she retorted. “And everyone knows Boston Stone is Magdalene’s most eligible bachelor.”

To that, I would disagree. Mr. Stone may be wealthy but money was not everything.

“Boston Stone may be loaded, Amber, but he’s not all that. And anyway, his name is retarded,” Ethan shot back.

I would use a less offensive adjective but it seemed Ethan and I were of like minds.

“Josie.” I heard murmured from close.

I started and looked up just in time to see that Jake was close. Very close. Close enough to curve his fingers around my hip, lean in and brush his lips against my cheek.

Oh my.

Again, he smelled very nice, his scent assaulting my senses in a way that was far from unpleasant.

He pulled back and as he did so, I attempted to pull myself together. However, this was difficult seeing as, in the dim light of the foyer, his eyes had again changed color. They appeared now to be an inky blue.

With effort, I took my thoughts from his mercurial eye color and greeted, “Hello, Jake.”

He grinned.

Then he used his hand on my hip to shove me gently in the house before he let me go to close the door.

When I just stood there staring up at him, he tipped his head toward the house as an indication we should enter it and I decided to stop making an idiot of myself and get moving.

This I did, hurrying down the hall toward the kitchen.

The instant I hit the room, Ethan turned his eyes to me and exclaimed, “It smells boss!”

“Jesus Christ, it does, Josie,” Jake agreed, coming to a stop beside me. “Wasn’t hungry, smell that smell, now I’m starved.”

I had no idea why but their comments made me feel suddenly very warm.

“It smells like meat,” Amber oddly declared and I looked to her.

“It smells like a lotta shit, Amber, but not meat,” Jake replied.

She ignored her father, looked to me and announced. “I’m a vegetarian.”

“Yeah, she decided that this morning,” Jake noted at my side.

“Killing animals for human consumption is disgusting,” she informed her father.

“Wonder what killing daughters for bein’ pains in the ass is,” Jake muttered in a voice that could likely only be heard by me and I found his remark so amusing I had to swallow down a laugh.

“Holy crap!” Ethan cried and my eyes shot to him to see he was now standing in the open refrigerator. He slowly turned, pointing inside the fridge, and asked with open wonder, “What is that?”

I looked into the refrigerator then back at Ethan. “It’s a pavlova.”

“It’s a what?” he queried.

“A pavlova. Meringue, cream and strawberries. We’re having it for dessert,” I replied then turned my gaze to Amber. “In your vegetarianism, do you eat eggs?”

“Yes,” Jake answered for his daughter.

“No,” Amber answered for herself at the same time.

“This is unfortunate as meringues are made of egg whites,” I shared with her.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” she returned. “I don’t eat dessert. My ass is already fat enough.”

I looked down to her ass and saw she was very wrong.

I didn’t address this mistaken impression of her body, although I had a strange and overwhelming desire to do so. This was partly because I didn’t know what to say. It was mostly because Ethan had taken a blue beverage from the refrigerator that I’d noticed prior and wondered about (thus wondering no longer) and Amber had turned her attention to her brother.

“Get me one of those, runt,” she demanded.

“You want one, don’t call me a runt,” he rejoined.

She gave him a face.

He returned it.

“Grab me a beer, will you, bud?” Jake called, moving deeper into the room.

I moved into it too, stating, “Dinner is almost ready. We’ll be eating shortly as I didn’t want to delay you should you need to get home early in order to take care of the class gerbil or do homework or something.”

“Their homework’s out in the truck, Josie,” Jake told my back.

“And we got a hamster in class, not a gerbil. But I never get to watch him seein’ as I killed the last one when it was my turn to take him home for the weekend,” Ethan also shared this relatively dire information with my back.

I turned to him and the room to see father and son had drinks and Amber’s head was in the fridge.

They seemed comfortable here and I knew they were because they’d been in that kitchen time and time again.

It was still strange.

And it was also strangely welcome.

“Dad said it was his time,” Ethan shared. “Not because I dropped him on his head.”

I blinked.

“He was squirrely. He didn’t want me to hold him and he got his way,” Ethan further explained.