Boot(s)

32- Boot

Bobby O'Callahan

"Bo." He squeezed my sleeping torso closer to him.

"Bobby, I said wake up. I heard something." He had been mumbling my name for quite some time now, and I had been completely ignoring him, so this time, he raised the volume of his voice from level 1: pestering murmur to level 3: urgent command.

It was morning, now, and we lived in a home that had a better security system than most department stores. So, I wasn't worried. I also had normal civilian hearing and wasn't convinced there was any noise to be heard other than his grumbling. I pressed closer to him, smiling into his skin. "Mmhmm."

"Bobby O'Callahan!" His left hand delivered a sharp smack on my ass. "Someone is in the goddamned house! Get up right now!"

A whiny groan that could have woke the neighbor's baby escaped my lips, but I dragged my lazy ass up and out of bed like the good sergeant asked.

He had raised his head from where he slept face down—weird, I know—on the mattress. Apparently satisfied that I had gotten up and grabbed a t-shirt, he plopped back down on the bed with a low thud. "Thank you."

As soon as I pulled open his bedroom door, I actually heard the voices. "What the—"

"Bobby! There you are, I've been looking all over! Mom texted like two times and called. It's almost 10 why are you still in bed? Anyway, put some clothes on, you're naked and where's Pete? And why were you in his room? And—"

"Woah, woah. Slow, girl, slow," I rubbed at my eyes, making sure I wasn't imaging my goddaughter standing in the middle of my living room wearing one of her best dresses and her hair tied back in a bright orange bow. "Jesus, Bella, what's going on? Is it Easter? Passover? Did we miss a holiday? Should I be in church clothes, too?"

In the midst of my rambling, Jess and Brandon had emerged from the kitchen. Jess looked a bit apologetic at first, her eyes darting between her daughter and me, but then, she noticed I was in boxers. And still had bedhead. And was emerging not from my own bedroom, but from Peter's. I watcher her mouth part.

Bella snapped her fingers in my direction, demanding my attention. "No, Bobby, we're doing Fall Fest today."

"Fall Fest? Don't we usually do Winter Fest? And why so early?"

Bella opened her very loud mouth to respond, but she was suddenly distracted by the door behind me opening and her second favorite adult male entering the room. "Peter! Good! Everyone's here. It's Fall Fest. Get changed. Oh, and why were you two sleeping in the same room?"

"We—"

"Uh—"

"Movie," I glanced at Pete. At least he had put on sweats and a hoodie. I was out here with more exposed skin than 90s Britney! "Fell asleep watching a movie." I turned back to Bella, hoping the redness in my cheeks had faded. "Now, what are y'all saying? Fall Fest?"

"Yes, Bo, keep up. We're turning Winter Fest into Fall Fest this year so dad can do it too. Capiche? We're going to paint pumpkins and get hot apple cider. Thanksgiving is this week, so it all works out. Now get changed! We have a whole schedule to follow!"

I turned toward Pete who was letting out a low whistle at Bella's bossiness. "Bella and I," I told him, "we have this tradition called Winter Fest. Every year we make Christmas cookies and build gingerbread houses and make paper snowflakes and all that. Guess we're doing it a little different this year."

He grinned, taking one hand off his crutch to dig it into my shoulder. "That's adorable. Y'all are cute. I'll get changed." He smiled, then turned around, headed back into his bedroom. Neither Jessie—nor Bella—let me watch his retreating body without a comment.