Free Elysian by Addison Moore Page B

Gage a look. Why my mother equates Demetri with “true love” of all things is beyond me. Obviously Cupid shot her with the stupid arrow that day—and again when she met Tad. The more I think about it, the more certain I am that Cupid hates my mother.
    Tad stalks into the room with an overstuffed duffle bag.
    I suppose if Tad were my alternative, cowering Fems wouldn’t look all that bad either, but still, Demetri removed my father from the planet. So not cool.
    I make a face. “I’ll be sure to prank call him from the hours of midnight to four a.m. until you get back.” I flick the paper behind my shoulder in open defiance to her sickening quasi-obsession.
    Tad frowns openly at me. “And who is this you think you’ll be prank calling on my dime?” 
    “Demetri.” Mom is quick to retrieve his number and settle it on the table as if she were serious. “There’s money for pizza under the cookie jar.” She shoots me a look while Tad brazenly walks over and retrieves the bills tucked under the cookie jar.
    “What are they supposed to eat?” Mom wraps an arm around Beau’s head as if shielding him from the impending confrontation.
    “Hell if I know, Lizbeth,” he barks. “Half of them are almost over eighteen. We’ve got canned goods stacked to the ceiling. Let them figure it out. Maybe the linebacker here can show them to his house for a change.”
    “Oh, ignore him, Gage.” Mom tosses up an arm. “So you just expect them to live off canned peas?”
    Eww.
    “If that’s the crappy canned goods you spend our hard earned money on, then yes! ” Or haven’t you shared our little tid-bit of news with the family yet?” He turns to me. “Althorpe has hacked my pay by forty percent. Imagine how much fun it’s going to be trying to feed a family of seven—”
    “Eight,” Mom corrects, bouncing Beau on her hip.
    “Eighteen if you count the football team she keeps hauling over, and the women lining up outside the door—although you can’t fault the boys.” He shakes his head over at Ethan. “They’ve got Landon DNA.”
    And a delusional father. 
    The baby starts to grunt, and a serious bout of thunder from down under amplifies from his bottom.
    Great. As if Mom and Tad didn’t have the power to mortify me enough in front of Gage, baby Beau has decided to get in on the action.
    “Oh God, it’s happening!” Mom extricates the baby and begins peeling off his clothes as if he were on fire. Although he does have Landon DNA —I wouldn’t put it past them to get the fire breathing down from the wrong end.
    “What’s happening?” My heart rate spikes, and I’m halfway ready to get the fire extinguisher just to put myself at ease.
    “He’s going number two,” Mom says, plucking off his cute baby jeans and fiddling with the tabs on his diaper. “I’ve got him on elimination communication—you know , going over the toilet.”
    Dear God. How old is he? Two, three months?
    “Look”—she snips over at me—“don’t let things get out of control once we’re gone.” She leans into Gage. “You’re welcome to spend the night if you like. Downstairs, on the couch, of course.” She winks as if she’s kidding. “Be good!” She shouts as she makes a mad dash to the bathroom.
    “Spend the night?” Tad snaps up Beau’s clothes from the ground as he follows Mom down the hall. “Just how many grandkids do you think you can strap to your back, Lizbeth?”
    I give an uncomfortable smile to Gage. Every awkward moment I’ve ever had with this boy has been compliments of Tad and my mother.
    “So?” He presses out one of his signature dimpled grins, and my insides boil with lust. “How many grandkids should we give her?”
    “Six dozen as long as they all look like you,” I smart. He knows damn well I’d have a million of his babies if I could. A moment of strangled silence springs up. “You know I still love you, right?” It comes from me sad, forced because there’s a giant knot of grief