The doorbell rang yet again and Tamara went for it, warning Ryder, “If he pukes, you’re cleaning it up.”
Wondering if it was her in-laws or Suzanne, because she couldn’t imagine who else would show up at seven o’clock on a Monday, and praying it was Suzanne, Tamara opened the door. It was neither of her guesses, but was her teaching assistant, grad student Imogen Wilson, who had become a friend since she’d joined the program. Imogen was from New York and somehow managed to look like she was pounding the pavement in Manhattan even standing on Tamara’s front porch in North Carolina. Imogen had dark brown hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, stylish designer glasses, a black pencil skirt and ivory sweater set, and an expensive handbag that she was pulling a stack of papers out of.
“Imogen, hi, how are you?”
“Hi, Tamara, I’m sorry for dropping by unannounced.”
Tamara noted Imogen was the only one who had bothered to apologize for that.
“I tried to call you but you didn’t pick up and I figured I’d chance it and stop by anyway. I brought you . . .” She held up the stack of papers with a flourish. “Final exams to grade. I’m sure you’re thrilled.”
Tamara laughed. “Oh yeah, ecstatic. Come on in. I tell you, I’m kicking myself for not doing the chicken pox vaccine.”
“Isn’t it mandatory for kids now?” Imogen asked.
“Not if your kids were born before a certain date. And since it’s two doses, and both kids would have to get the vaccine at the same time, I never quite got around to it. I figured what were the odds they would be exposed to it?” Tamara shrugged. “Serves me right, I guess.”
“Well, I’m sorry it’s such bad timing with exams.”
“Me, too. Do you have a minute?” Tamara asked. “I wanted to discuss how we’re going to handle the summer classes.”
“Sure, I have a minute.” Imogen rolled her eyes and gave a sheepish shrug. “I have a lot of minutes actually, since I have zero social life.”
“Now why is that? Too busy studying?”
“It’s been hard to meet people. I’m a bit of a fish out of water here.”
Tamara could see how that might be an issue. Imogen was more likely to eat sushi than barbeque and she probably didn’t know a single verse of “Redneck Woman,” which was a requirement if you were going to go out dancing or sing karaoke.
“You should come out with my friend Suzanne and I sometime. We’re older than you, but we’re not totally awful company.”
“Thanks, I’d like that.”
Tamara kicked the same laundry basket out of the way yet again. Why wouldn’t those damn towels just fold themselves? “I have some friends over visiting my kids, so don’t be startled. The level of testosterone in my family room is at an all-time high right now.”
“Oh, okay, no problem.”
Though Imogen did look startled when they entered the family room. Petey was on Ryder’s back going for a gallop around the room, while Ty was juggling dime-sized pieces of candy in the air in front of him, occasionally leaning over and catching one with his mouth. Elec was still on the couch, but Hunter had moved around to his back and was on her knees, her arms around his neck, leaning over his shoulder as she informed him she was going to be the first girl to win the cup series championship.
Tamara was about to call attention when Petey slid, Ryder lost his balance, and Petey’s foot kicked over the ant farm on the coffee table. And the lid popped off.
“No!” Petey shrieked.
“Oh, shit,” Ryder said, sliding Petey to the floor.
“It’s alright,” Elec said calmly, dropping to the carpet and righting the farm.
“Holy crap!” Hunter said.
“Hunter Danielle Briggs!” Tamara said, absolutely horrified. “You do not use that kind of language. Ever.”
“But that’s what Suzanne says when she’s upset. And Ryder just said sh—”
Tamara cut her off. “That doesn’t give you the right to say it. When you’re an adult, you can speak however you want, but for now, you follow my rules and there is no swearing in this house.”
“Sorry,” Ryder said, joining Elec and Petey on the floor.
“Are there ants crawling all over my family room?” Tamara asked, a little fearfully. She did not want to have to call an exterminator over this.
“Nope.” Elec shook his hand over the open farm. “Just a few and we’re getting them picked up. Most of them stayed in the tunnels when it tipped.”
“Good.” Tamara turned to Imogen. “Anyway, let me introduce you to the madness. The man who had my son on his back is Ryder Jefferson, Petey’s godfather, and a professional race car driver. That boy is my son Petey. The monkey on the couch is my daughter Hunter.
The other man crawling on the floor is Elec Monroe, also a race car driver. And standing here eating candy instead of scooping up ants is Ty McCordle, Hunter’s godfather, and yet one more race car driver. Everyone, this is Imogen Wilson, my TA at the university.”
“It’s nice to meet all of you,” Imogen said with a nervous smile, pushing her glasses up on her nose.
“I’m sorry, what did Tammy say your name is?” Ty asked Imogen, tossing the colored candy discs back and forth in his hands. “I didn’t quite catch it.”
“It’s Imogen,” she said, fussing with the buttons on her sweater set.
“Come again?” Ty tilted his head like he couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t quite getting it.
“Imogen.”
“Oh.” It was clear Ty still had no idea what the hell she had said and he wasn’t willing to ask her a third time. “It’s a pleasure.”
“So you work with Tammy?” Ryder asked from the floor, giving up on ant retrieval and falling onto his back. Petey took the opportunity to launch himself onto Ryder’s gut and a playful wrestling match ensued.
“Um . . .” Imogen said, because clearly the person who had asked her the question was now engaged in horseplay and wasn’t going to hear her answer.
Before Tamara could save her, Elec did, still calmly picking up ants one by one. “So you’re a grad student, Imogen?”
And bless his heart, he’d actually gotten the poor girl’s name right.
“Yes. I have one more year. I need to start working on my thesis but I haven’t found a topic that appeals to me yet.”