Chapter Ten

She’d been checking him out. He wasn’t imagining it. He got a little busy since the kids were all clamoring for his attention, but once he’d taken off his shirt and started walking around with it off, he noticed she’d been watching him, but trying to hide it. He could tell when a woman was checking him out.

And all the desperate housewife types were obviously watching him. Even their jailbait daughters. He knew very well to steer clear of them. He wasn’t even going to look at them. Nope, he was playing “Uncle Jim” today, warning kids when they get too violent with the rough-housing, yelling at them not to run around the pool area, and fixing their little water guns.

Junie had just asked him to start grilling burgers and wieners for the kiddos and even though he knew nothing about grilling, he supposed he must take care of it because he was the man. God, he hoped it was just a matter of turning on the gas, then the grill. He’d never experienced this kind of normalcy ever.

He felt a little relieved when he walked up to the grill and found a trio of dad-types who could probably help with the cooking part. He did not want to be responsible for twelve nine-year-old boys rushed to the ER for salmonella.

“Hey guys,” he said as he walked up to them with his most congenial smile. He wondered too late if he should have put his shirt back on before approaching them. “I’m Jim Kelly. I’m here with my sister-in-law Rory, who is the aunt of the birthday boy.”

“Oh, yeah. I know Rory. We go to the same church. Nice lady,” said the first guy to step forward. He was chubby, had curly brown hair, and green eyes. “I’m Curtis Summers. Petey is my boy and Marcy over there is my wife.”

He pointed to a skinny red-haired woman in a yellow bikini who waved at Jim. Jim waved back. She wasn’t very subtle about coming on to him earlier.

“This is Marcus,” Curtis said pointing to the tall black guy next to him, then to the other white guy next to him who had short blond hair and looked like he worked out a lot. “Eric.”

Jim shook hands with all of them and said hello.

“You’re Seamus Kelly, right? The musician?” said Eric, taking off his sunglasses. “Man, your last EP ‘After Hours' is still on rotation in my Spotify. I’m a fan, man.”

Jim sighed and scratched the back of his neck. One of these days, people would stop asking. He wondered if he’d miss it then. “Thank you. I was wondering if one of you knew how to start this grill. Junie—”

“And your jam sessions with Eric Clapton, then Lenny Kravitz, man! Brilliant. I still listen to them, too. Oh, man, Sheryl is not gonna believe this.”

Jim cleared his throat. “Sheryl is yay high, black hair, blue eyes, mom of Zack? We’ve met.”

“Yeah, sorry, man. She’s not a fan. She says she hates waah-waah-waah depressing white boy music.” Eric looked embarrassed for his wife.

Jim laughed. “Don’t worry about it. It was starting to depress me, too.”

Marcus tapped his shoulder. “No s**t, man? You were a recording artist?”

Jim nodded. The knots in his stomach were starting to untwist a little. It had been so long since he socialized with people in such a casual setting. “In another lifetime. My last album was released almost five years ago.”

“Yeah, but you still get major airplay, man,” Curtis informed him. “Sure, you’re considered classic rock now…”

“Ouch. I’m feeling my age.” Jim touched his chest and chuckled. “I don’t mind, man. That was in another life. Anyway, Junie wants the grilling started, so—”

“You working on anything new?” Eric wanted to know.

“Hey, Music Man, you want a beer?” asked Marcus. “Leave the grilling to Curtis. He’s the Grill Master.”

Jim said no to the beer and no to him working on anything new. He’d been sketching a lot more, so maybe he’d take up painting again, but he didn’t think Eric would want to hear about that. He’d also been putting together ideas for a “maybe” book he’d like to write someday, but that wasn’t what Eric was asking about, either.

“So, what was it like, man? Being up there, filling up the Hollywood Bowl or whatever packed arena with screaming fans?” Eric asked.

Jim shook his head. He'd never learned how to answer this question. “I’ll tell you what, there’s always an asshole in the front row yelling ‘Free Bird!’”

The guys laughed and Jim sighed with relief. He could talk about music for hours, but he hated talking about his heyday.

He looked up and this time caught Rory staring at him. He waved at her before she could look away. She waved back, then turned to Junie.

He told the guys he had something to ask his sister-in-law and walked away. A good thing, too. Eric was about to tell him about a nephew he had, who was really good at bass guitar.

Rory was sitting on a lounge chair under an umbrella and there was an empty one next to her. He sat down. “How are you doing?” he asked.

“These kids grow so fast,” she said with a chuckle as she watched her nephews shoot each other with their water pistols. “I remember when I could fit Mikey in the palm of my hand. He was a few weeks premature, so he had to stay a couple of months more at the NICU before Junie and Steve could take him home.”

Jim stretched himself out on the lounge chair, taking care that his ankle monitor stayed hidden. “Lie down, Rory. And relax. You’ve been running around all morning.”

She looked at him over her shoulder and smiled. “You’re right.” She waited until Jim reached over to adjust the seat position of the lounger, then lay down next to him. “Sam and I have such a big house with no kids. I told Sam we should look into IVF, maybe. Oh, I’m sorry if you don’t want to hear about this.”

Jim dismissed her worry. He once again pictured Rory round with his child and felt a sense of peace. “I’m not twelve, Rory. I’m not going to cover my ears and say ‘eww, gross.’ I’m your friend and this is something weighing heavily on your mind. I’m here to listen.”

Rory took Jim’s hand and squeezed. “You have been here for me, Seamus. Thank you. You don’t know what that means to me.”

He turned over her much smaller hand in his before meeting her eyes. “But I do know. It means the same to me. You’ve been such a good friend and support system, Rory. Thank you.”

“Friends,” she repeated, squeezing his hand again. “We’re friends.”

Jim chuckled. He didn’t want to let go of her hand just yet. “Don’t forget siblings-in-law. You are my sister. In law.”

She laughed and pulled her hand away. “What does that even mean, really? Does that title come with obligations, for example?”

“Well,” Jim looked down for a moment before meeting her eyes again. “You’re obligated to put up with your husband’s deadbeat brother because you live in the same house.”

“Oh, Jim, that’s not what I meant.” She reached out to smack his arm. “It’s not a hardship. I like having you in the house. You’re like a brother to me.”

Jim c****d his head to the side and smiled in a way that he knew showed off the dimples that women have told him are adorable. “Am I?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes. Why are you over here pestering me? You should be talking to the ladies.”

Jim scoffed. “Who fall into three categories: jailbait, married, or newly divorced. Are you trying to get me in more trouble?”

“No way,” she laughed. “I don’t want to have to visit you in prison.” Her smile vanished when the mobile in her pocket rang. Her eyebrows drew together when she checked the screen. “Sam? What’s up? Are you on your way? Oh. Oh my God, poor baby! Oh, her poor mother. Well, keep me posted. See you tonight. Love you too.”

Jim touched her elbow to get her attention as her shoulders slumped forward and she suddenly looked really down. “Rory?”

“It's one of Sam’s patients. Michelle Rivera. She was born with a congenital heart defect and Sam has been taking care of her since she was a baby. She just had a massive heart attack and Sam is going to perform the surgery, which usually takes hours and hours.”

Jim frowned. “Surgery? I thought he just did general pediatrician stuff.”

Rory squinted at him, then shook her head. “No, Sam is a pediatric surgeon and cardiology is his specialty. He’s one of the leading pediatric cardiothoracic surgeons in the country.”

Heat suffused Jim’s neck and cheeks. “Shows how much I know about my brother, I guess.” He shrugged, embarrassed. “Open mouth, insert foot.”

Rory reached over and squeezed his arm. “Don’t worry about it. He wouldn’t be able to name any of your songs if anyone sat him down and asked him.” She winced. “Which shows you two really need to sit down and catch each other up one of these days.”

Jim sighed. Yeah, that’d definitely happen. “So, what do you wanna do tonight? Should I finally teach you how to play backgammon?”

The thought of having Rory for a few more hours all to himself cheered him up considerably.

“Nah. You know what we should do? Let’s go see a movie. Like in the theaters. There’s an AMC two miles from our house.”

Sitting next to his sexy sister-in-law in the dark for two hours? “I gotta say, it’s been a while since I’ve gone to the movies. I think the last one I saw in the theaters was the first Thor movie.”

Rory snorted. “Oh my God, that was, like, ten years ago. We’re so going to the movies. We’re going all out. Nachos, popcorn, hotdogs…”

Jim grimaced. “Ugh, more hotdogs?”