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“What the hell is going on?” My mother demanded. “What is this nonsense about brothers?”
“Well, Marge, it appears we have two grandsons.” My dad beamed as he took a drink of coffee.
My mother’s hand flew to her mouth. “No.” She shook her head. “The rumor was true? You really did knock up that farm trash?”
“Watch your mouth.” I narrowed my eyes. “Miranda had my son, and has raised him on her own and is a thousand times better mother than Victoriaandyou.”
Mom played with her necklace. “How dare you?”
Dillon came running back into the kitchen naked. “I has a qweston.”
My mother looked over at him. “Where are your clothes?”
He tilted his head. “Gramma, do you know where did my mom go?”
The weirdest, most uncomfortable silence filled the room.
“I’m sorry, what do you mean go?” Her face pinched up.
“Well, she not here, Gramma. So, where she go?”
“Why on earth are you asking such a question?”
Dillon put his hands on his hips. “Charlie’s gots a mama.”
“Well.” She patted her hair as though it were out of place. “I think that’s a question for your father to answer when he feels you’re ready.”
“Daddy? Am I ready now?”
“When you were a baby, your mom was in a bad car accident, and she was called home to heaven.”
“Hm.” He stroked his imaginary beard. “Well, will I get a new mom?”
“I’m sure someday, Dillon. Your father just needs to meet a nice woman.”
“Hmm, what about Charlie’s mom?”
“Shit!” I choked on my coffee.
“Henry. Language.” My mother scolded me.
“Swear jar, Daddy.”
I turned my head to scowl at my mother before taking another drink of coffee.
“Maybe I cans ask Santa for one?”
“Maybe.” I conceded.
My dad smiled at Dillon. “I think asking Charlie’s mom would be very nice.”
Dillon jumped up and down excitedly and ran off again.
“Really, Thomas? Why would you even encourage that?” My mother’s face puckered up in disgust.
“Because she was a beautiful young lady who grew into a very beautiful woman and our son has been in love with her since …” He looked over at me.
“Middle school.” I smiled.
