The Husband Diet (A Romantic Comedy) by Barone Nancy

Author:Barone, Nancy [Barone, Nancy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2013-05-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18:

Bullies and Baseball Bats

Finally at home after another grueling day, I was preparing some nice veal and aubergine casserole for dinner. (Ira never had dinner with us anymore now that he had his own life.)

Once dinner was in the oven, I’d have a long hot shower and change into fresh gym pants and a sweatshirt to do some squats or something and then go fetch Warren from baseball practice. Julian had started a team, which he coached every Monday and Wednesday until six, so I had time to help Maddy with her homework and catch up on my chores.

And while I worked, I thought of the kids and how things were going well lately. I knew their needs, their rhythms, their passions, their insecurities and strong points. I was ahead of the game and it felt great. Like I was on top of the world for once.

As I was dicing the mushrooms and scooping them up—whoops, right against my Sex Pistols Anarchy T-shirt—the doorbell rang.

“Stay put,” I said to Maddy who’d already jumped to her feet from her complicated ballet pose that looked more like a yoga position. One day she’d get her long legs all tangled and fall flat on her cute little face, if she took after her mommy.

I dabbed at the brownish stains on my T-shirt as I pulled the door wide open.

“Hi,” Julian said, gloriously sexy in a pair of jeans and a Lacoste polo the same shade as his eyes. Did this guy have an image consultant or something? Weren’t men supposed to be color-blind? Forget the grab-me-now smile on his face. Forget the width of his shoulders that seemed to embrace me.

Something from inside him leapt out at me and grabbed me by the shoulders, screaming, You may not know it yet, but we were made to roll on soft beds together! As if I’d have a chance in resisting him. Resist? Who are we kidding here?

“Nice T-shirt—love the Sex Pistols,” he said, although his eyes were not smiling.

And again the tingle down my spine, dammit. Not to mention the state I was in. I wish he’d called. But I played it cool. “Aren’t you supposed to be coaching your Little League?” I asked.

“I was, but now I’m on my way to the hospital.”

Oh, God. “Warren…?” I squeaked, and he lifted his hands.

“He’s perfectly all right. But in big trouble. He’s split a boy’s head open.”

“Oh, my God.”

“I’ve brought him home to save you a trip, but I have to run to the hospital now. I’ll call you later.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, backing a step into the house, ready to grab my coat and bag. The story of my life. “I’ll just get Maddy and drive to—”

“No need.”

I searched his face. “Is the boy okay?”

“He will be,” he assured me, but there was something he wasn’t telling.

“The parents are suing, aren’t they?”

Julian sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

My eyes swung to his jeep where I could see Warren crouched, his enormous eyes fixed on me.

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