The Slow Burn (Moonlight and Motor Oil #2) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,3
stomach.
“I have to go, Judy. Tobias is home from school and if I don’t get him an after-school snack, his stomach will eat through him.” She paused. “Okay. Yes, of course. See you then. Ta, Judy.”
With that, she hung up the phone.
But all Toby could think was she’d said he was “home.”
And he was.
He had three homes.
His dad’s.
His Grams and Gramps’s.
And Margot’s.
And she’d make him a heckuva after-school snack.
She always did.
Anytime he came to her for as long as he could remember.
His mom gave him that. All of that.
And she did it by leaving.
Unmoving, he watched her walk to him.
He only shifted when she pushed out the screen door.
She held it open, stood in the door and studied him.
“How much did you hear, darlin’?” she asked quietly.
“A lot,” he answered.
Her pretty face got that soft he liked so much before she whispered, “Child.”
Toby said nothing.
“I know you liked Rachel, Tobias, but—” she started.
“I like you.”
She stopped. Blinked.
Then her hand crept up in front of her to cover her throat so he wouldn’t see it move as she tried not to cry in front of him, because ladies did not give in to tears or hysterics in front of others. It was rude.
According to Margot.
“When I find a woman, she’s gonna be like you,” Toby told her.
“My beautiful boy,” she said quietly.
“Though she’s gonna hafta be able to wear pants if she’s gonna run with some bulls or somethin’.”
Her face got even softer, but she said, “Something, Tobias. Don’t drop your ‘Gs.’ You’re not a hillbilly.”
“I’m totally a hillbilly. Everyone from Kentucky is a hillbilly, don’t you know.”
Her mouth did that thing it did with him a lot. It got all shaky, like she was trying not to laugh, before it got stern.
“I am not a hillbilly and I’m a Kentuckian born and bred. And you are not a hillbilly either,” she stated.
“Are you gonna feed me, or what?” he asked.
“‘Margot, I’m famished. Will you please make me a snack?’” she corrected.
“I’m never sayin’ that famished word in my life,” he returned.
She didn’t quite beat the smile before she replied, “Saying, Tobias.” Then she shifted aside so he could get in, murmuring, “Lord, child, what am I going to do with you?”
“Feed me?”
She rolled her eyes, but he saw before she did, they were smiling.
He walked in.
She made him wash his hands then get out his books at the kitchen table while she fixed him a roast beef sandwich with melted muenster on top, slathered in mayo with a ton of ridged Ruffles stacked on the side.
In fact, there were so many chips, the sandwich was almost covered in them. It was like she was making him a full meal, even if he’d had lunch and it was near-on dinnertime.
He didn’t care. It was awesome and he was, well . . . famished.
He grinned and got down to his geometry because he knew she wouldn’t let him go home until he was done with his homework.
Toby was half through the sandwich, had made a dent in the chips, and was almost done with geometry when he looked at Margot at the stove, doing stuff with a big hunk of meat in a pan she was gonna roast for Dave for dinner.
Their boys were all in college. Well, Lance, the oldest one, was an engineer out in Oregon, but Dave Junior and Mark were in college.
So it was now just Margot and Dave.
She didn’t have all her boys to look after anymore.
Dad had said it made her sad. And Toby’d seen that, for sure.
And when he did, even if Grams or Gramps were home, or the mill was calling, he came after school to her, and not just because she did great snacks (Grams did great snacks too).
Now she seemed to be doing better.
And he was glad.
Still.
He was looking at her because that feeling in his stomach had turned and it did it so bad, he had to get it out.
“Only thing I care about . . .” he started.
Margot turned her head to him.
“Is you not goin’ away,” he finished.
She straightened from her beef and rotated fully to him.
“I’m not going anywhere, Tobias.”
“I like Rachel fine,” he said. “And I don’t care about Mom,” he lied. “But don’t you go anywhere.”
“I’m not going anywhere, darlin’.”
He stared at her.
She let him and stared right back.
This went on awhile.
When it lasted long enough to make that feeling start to fade, he looked back to his books.