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“She give you that battle scar?” Gene pointed at Henry’s face.
“Yeah, she was crazy tonight, in a way that wasmorethan usual.” Henry shook his head. “She left little man alone, too.”
Evan sat back. “She did what?”
“Yeah. I came home from unloading my new furniture and Dillon was strapped in his high chair, full pull up, out of food and drink.”
“You should make a police report.” His dad gave him a nudge. “Really.”
I set the basket and small cup down for the little guy, my heart breaking for what he’s had to endure with cuntzilla for a mom and turned to walk away.
“She, uh …” Henry blew out a hard breath. “She said he wasn’t mine.”
With those words, I walked into another table, almost falling to the ground.
“Miranda?” Gene looked over at me with narrowed eyes.
“Sorry.” I giggled. “First day, new feet.”
“Thomas, I’m happy for you, my friend.”
“Thanks, Irv.” Mr. Walsh sat back.
I walked back over with the ketchup and avoided everyone’s eyes. “There you go. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“You can go, Miranda.” Irv smiled at me. “I’m sure Edie would prefer your company to Evie.”
“Thank you.” I nodded and stumbled over my feet on my way towards the swing door, taking off my apron.
Could you be any more of a dork?
The swinging door snapped back fast, and I walked into it before I could get away.
Way to go! Dumbass!
I untied my apron as I walked out the back door and made the short journey to the Malone’s house.
The moment I stepped inside the door, my son ran over and wrapped his chubby arms around my legs, jumping and making his curls bounce.
“Sooooooo, rumor is he’s a carbon copy of his daddy.” Edie whispered to me.
“You know. You’re not supposed to be talking.”
She rolled her eyes.
“He’s got another son.” I walked over and flopped down in the recliner. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” I wiped away the errant tear.
Edie tilted her head and glared at me, pointing at Charlie.
“What?” I hugged my little boy tight.
She kept pointing at him and I realized what I’d said. I felt the blood drain from my head. “Oh. Shit.”
“Dit.”
“Oh, Charlie, no. That’s a bad word.”
“Dit.”
