Filed to story: My Life with the Walter Boys Book (I & II) PDF Free
“If I were going to an interview, I’d be wearing a business suit.”
“Why would you wear guys’ clothes?”
I scoffed. “Business suits aren’t only for men.” Hadn’t his mother taught him anything about fashion?
“Okay, whatever, but I wouldn’t wear that nice top to dinner tonight. We’re having spaghetti.”
What was that supposed to mean? I didn’t eat like a caveman. “If we’re having dinner, shouldn’t we wear something more…appropriate?” I countered. Cole was still shirtless, and I purposely kept my gaze glued to his face so I wouldn’t stare. With his sun-bleached locks and chiseled abs, he looked like a Greek god. How was I ever going to live with this boy? Everything about him made me self-conscious and uncomfortable.
“I don’t know how you guys do things in New York, but we don’t dress up for dinner around here. I’ll be fine in this.” He smiled a slow, arrogant grin that made me squirm. “Anyway, I’ll give you time to unpack,” he said before I could respond.
Cole pushed himself off the doorframe, his arm muscles flexing. Holding my breath, I watched him leave without the ability to tear my eyes away. He finally disappeared around the corner in the hall, breaking my trance, and I collapsed on my new bed. I had survived my first encounter with the Walter boys.
***
Katherine’s kitchen was a sight I had never seen before. The place was loud and cluttered, but warm and cozy at the same time. Her artistic hand had definitely taken part in decorating the kitchen. All of the walls were painted to be one huge mural of a vineyard, and almost every chair around the table was a different color. It was the opposite of my mother’s clean-tiled, sparkling steel, half-a-million-dollar kitchen. At home, I felt like the kitchen was just there to look pretty and if I made a mess, I was in big trouble. This room looked lived in and, for some strange reason, I liked it.
When I walked in, Katherine was standing at the stove, stirring a pot of something boiling and shouting orders at Isaac, who was helping her. Two dogs were running around the room chasing each other, making it hard for everyone who was trying to set the table for dinner. George almost dropped the salad bowl when he tripped over a dog running between his legs.
Zack and Benny, the youngest set of twins, were sitting on the floor three feet apart playing some type of handheld video game with a cord connecting each boy’s device. I nearly choked when Zack yanked Benny’s away from him and yelled, “You lose, shithead!”
A deafening cheer erupted from the den that was connected to the kitchen, and I turned to see the rest of the guys watching a basketball game on TV. My eyes instantly found Cole, who jumped up out of his seat, pounding his fist into the air. Since I’d seen him last, he’d pulled on a fitted black shirt that emphasized his broad shoulders and contrasted with his fair hair, making it look platinum.
“Stop staring,” said Lee as he rode his skateboard into the kitchen from behind me. I remembered Lee because we were both sophomores in high school, and when Will introduced him, he had given me the most chilling look. I turned away from the den, embarrassed that he had caught me watching his cousin.
“Lee! How many times do I have to tell you not to ride your board in the house?” scolded Katherine as he crashed into one of the kitchen chairs, knocking it over. It fell on Benny’s head, and he immediately started screaming bloody murder.
“Only a thousand times more, Aunt Kathy,” he said before kneeling next to his little cousin to see if he was okay.
I rubbed my temples, trying to make my headache go away. This place was maddening. And then, in the midst of it all was one boy. I couldn’t remember his name, but he was sitting at one of the kitchen chairs, guitar in his lap, music sheets spread out on the table in front of him. Thinking back to my list, I guessed that this was Nathan—the fourteen-year-old musician. I watched as he strummed a few notes on the instrument that I was unable to hear. Shaking his head, he grabbed the pencil from between his teeth and crossed something out. I wondered how he could concentrate with everything going on around him.
“Jackie, honey,” said Katherine, finally noticing me. She was straining the water out of a huge pot of noodles. On the counter next to her was an economy-sized jar of spaghetti sauce. “I’m so glad you didn’t get lost on your way to the kitchen. This place is so huge, and your room is the farthest away. I asked Cole to go get you about ten minutes ago, but it looks like he got wrapped up in the game.” She smiled at me, and I went over to help her.
“It’s okay. It wasn’t very hard to find,” I said, popping the lid off the jar. “I just followed all the noise.”
Katherine laughed, took the jar from me, and emptied it over the noodles. “It’s always loud in here. That’s what happens when you have twelve kids.” She paused for a moment and gave me a small smile. “Make that thirteen.”
I looked at my feet and whispered, “Thanks, Mrs. Walter.”
“Anything for you, dear. And please, don’t call me that. I’m Katherine,” she said and pulled me into a hug.
“Boys!” bellowed George. “Grub’s on the table. Turn that stupid thing off.”
Katherine let me go, grabbed the bowl of spaghetti, and set it next to the other dishes of steaming food. I followed her over to the table and sat down in the nearest chair.
“You can’t sit there,” said one of the boys from the middle set of twins. Once again, both of their names slipped my memory.
“Sorry,” I said, sliding into the next chair.
“Not there either. That’s my chair,” said the other twin.
“Boys, why doesn’t one of you go get a chair from the dining room and bring it in here for Jackie to sit on?” asked George. One of the twins looked like he was about to protest, but then his double elbowed him in the side.
“Okay, Dad. Be right back,” he said, smiling sweetly.
A minute later, he came back, dragging a chair behind him. After it was pushed up to the table, I sat down and George began grace. About halfway through his prayer, I felt movement on my leg. Reaching beneath the table, I grabbed something thin and smooth. When I pulled it up, I screamed and flung the yellow reptile away from me. The table burst into commotion.
“Snake!” roared Benny as he jumped away from his seat. As he did so, he stepped on one of the dogs. The poor thing yelped and launched itself away from him. Alex, who pushed away from the table in shock, tripped over the wild dog and crashed into Isaac, who was sitting next to him. George was trying to calm Benny down but managed to slip in a puddle of milk that had somehow spilled onto the floor in all the frenzy.
As he fell, George grabbed the tablecloth in an attempt to regain his balance, but instead he brought all of dishes down with him. When the bowl of spaghetti hit the ground, its contents flew in every direction and covered us all with tomato sauce.
“Jordan!” George bellowed at his son. “You’re beyond grounded!”
***
Dinner had been a disaster, and it was entirely my fault. After George and Katherine calmed down the mayhem, everyone was given a job to clean up the mess. That was, everyone except me. Katherine apologized profusely for her sons’ behavior, and sent me off to clean myself up even, though I pleaded to help.
Turning off the hot water, I stepped out of the shower. It felt good to wash off the chlorine from the pool and the spaghetti from dinner, but no amount of shower time would ease the dread that was swirling around in my stomach. To add to my discomfort, a stab of irritation shot through me when I spotted my shirt on the floor, covered in sauce. Cole had been right—now it was completely ruined. I was already making a mess of living with the Walters, as I could tell from the way most of the boys threw me dirty looks when I left the kitchen.
As I wrapped a towel around myself, I wished I’d worn flip-flops to the bathroom. The floor was a minefield littered with dirty boxers and used tissues that had missed the garbage, not to mention that tile looked like it hadn’t been scrubbed since the Walters moved into the house.
I also had to be extra careful not to lean against the counter as I washed my face. Globs of toothpaste speckled it like bird poop, along with pieces of hair and bright blue shaving cream. Most of the boys tossed their toothbrushes next to the sink, as if the damp countertop wasn’t a cesspool of mystery toxins. There was no way I’d be keeping mine in here.
Pulling back the door, I poked my head out into the hallway to make sure no one was around. I didn’t want any of the boys to see me in a towel. Next time I showered, I’d remember to bring my clothes with me. As I crept back to my room, I imagined this was how a wild teenager felt as he or she carefully slunk out of the house in the middle of the night. I myself had never done anything that crazy.
I successfully reached my new room without encountering one of the boys and slipped inside, sighing with relief.
“Nice towel, Jackie.”
“Oh!” I squeaked, almost dropping the fluffy fabric when I spotted Cole sitting on my bed. He was still covered in tomato sauce, but was eating out of a takeout Chinese carton. Two more steaming cartons were sitting on the desk waiting to be eaten. A smile eased across his face as he looked me up and down.
My face flushed as red as the stains on his shirt, and I yanked the towel tighter around my figure. “What in the world are you doing in my room?”
“Dinner. Want some?” he asked, holding up the carton of food.
“Yes, but can you please leave?” I asked, mortified that this was actually happening. “I need to change.”