"You brought a bunch of elderly women porn?" I asked, though I wasn't exactly surprised. When it came to crazy chicks in Navesink Bank, Peyton took the cake, but Gus wasn't too far below.
"I brought them romance novels. Sure, the very smutty kind. But books. Bunch of puritanical assholes. They don't like the old people getting frisky. I think if anyone wants to bump their dangling uglies with other dangling uglies, then they should be allowed to. But, apparently, that makes one a 'bad influence'," she said, air quoting the words.
"I would love to have some help around here, but I can't afford that right now," Eva admitted.
"Oh, didn't he tell you?" Gus asked, waving her mug toward me. "These guys are loaded. Like, high six-figures sitting behind walls for safekeeping loaded."
"Oh, ah, it's not... we're not...things are new," Eva decided on after tripping over how to explain it.
"Oh, please," Gus said, shaking her head. "Trust me, these guys, once they make a choice, they are like dogs after a bitch in heat. He will have a ring on that finger in no time. And then you, little lady, will have access to those accounts. But, anyway, I don't really need the money," Gus said, shrugging. "I just need distractions. And I love my old people. West works a couple shifts a week. And he goes on drops. I get bored. And, apparently, I get myself into 'trouble' if I have nothing to do."
"You got hauled in twice since you've been up here," I reminded her.
"Oh, please. It hardly counts as getting arrested when the cops call you before they even throw me in a cell. But yeah. If you want someone here when West is working, let me know. Oh, is that French toast? I will go tell Maeve that her plans for oatmeal are cancelled."
"So, that's Gus," Eva said, turning back to me, smile lopsided.
"That is Gus," I confirmed, nodding. "Told you she was a trip."
"I love her," Eva declared.
"You are going to love a lot of the girls club," I told her.
"Can I admit something?"
"Always."
"The idea of them scares the shit out of me. I mean, twenty-something badass ladies? It sounds like a high school nightmare where they are the popular clique and I am the new girl without their badass karate skills and knowledge of guns."
"They are a good group, babe. They take all the new girls in. They do kinda split up though. The OG ladies and the newer ones. But they all get together to train and shit at the gym or up at Hailstorm."
"Training," Eva said, curling her lip. "That sounds an awful lot like exercise. And we have already established that there is only one good form of exercise," she told me, eyes melting a bit.
"Keep looking at me like that, babe, and we are going to need to concoct some reason to go next door for an hour while they starve."
Eva's nose lifted, sniffing the air. "Gee, is that a gas leak I smell?" she asked, then shot me a smile.
"They seem to have come to a truce," I said, looking toward the kids sitting int he living room, listening to something on Jacob's phone, both of them nodding along with the beat.
"Well, I mean, I would seriously worry about our children if they didn't both agree that Kendrick is amazing."
"Kendrick?" I repeated.
"Kendrick. Lamar. Oh, you sweet thing," Eva said, pressing a hand to her heart. "We will all educate you, don't worry."
"I haven't had a lot of time for music lately," I admitted.
"There is always time for music. Always. It is especially useful to humiliate your children. I mean, I don't care if I am eighty and using a walker, when Juvenile tells me to back my ass up, I am backing my ass up. I have backed my ass up walking down the street to the store when someone passed with the music blaring. Much to my son's mortification. What are you doing?" she asked as I pulled out my phone to type in it.
"Making a note to put that on for you sometime later. When we're alone," I told her, getting a saucy smile from her before she turned back to cooking.
And the whole morning was just... easy, fun, light, full of teasing and laughter.
On more than one occasion, I caught Jelly looking at Eva with what I could only describe as wonder in her eyes.
A part of me wanted to pull her aside, to tell her that things were new, that it was smart not to get too attached too soon.
But the other part of me liked seeing it too much. That part of me also acknowledged that this wasn't some fling. It wasn't something I could see myself getting sick of anytime soon.
I never wanted to say that our- mine and Jelly's—lives were missing anything. We'd always been happy. Our home had been filled with love and laughter.