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I hand her the bag and she frowns. “This is heavy.”
“The only way Moon would agree to give me takeout is if I accept the food on normal plates with proper silverware and promise to return it all the next day.”
I hesitate for a moment. I need to apologize for how I behaved.
“Can we talk?”
She sighs before motioning me inside. “I’m not waiting any longer to eat this food. And you better not ruin my appetite with some bullshit about how I’m a horrible mother. I have a baseball bat and I know how to use it.”
I clear my throat to stop myself from laughing at her threat. She’s growling at me, but all I can think about is how adorable she is.
She leads me to the small dining table off of the kitchen. I scan her home and notice it’s dated but clean and tidy. The walls and carpets are beige but the pillows and blankets add pops of color and there are pictures on the wall. This place has a personality.
I wait for her to sit down before sitting across from her. She opens her bag and the smell of meatloaf and potatoes escapes. My stomach growls.
She motions to my bag. “Go ahead. You might as well eat before it gets cold.” She pauses. “Or do you want to say I’m an unfit mother again? In which case, let me grab my rolling pin.”
I swallow my laughter since I don’t think she’s kidding about the rolling pin. “No. Actually, I need to apologize.”
Her mouth drops open. “Apologize? You are going to apologize to me?”
“Um, yeah.”
“This ought to be good. A man’s never apologized to me before.”
“Never?”
She shakes her head. “Nope.”
“Not even Isla’s dad when he left you?”
She barks out a laugh. “You’re funny. I never knew you were funny.”
“I’m not being funny.”
“If you knew, you’d understand.”
“Knew what?”
She wipes tears of mirth from her eyes. “How Charles packed his things in the middle of the night while I was passed out from days of not sleeping since Isla had colic. How my lawyers could never find him to sue him for child support. How I haven’t heard from him in eleven years.”
“Isla’s dad doesn’t pay child support?”
She rolls her eyes. “Why do you think I work my ass off? This house doesn’t pay for itself.”
And I was the asshole who yelled at her for working too hard.
“Sorry I said you should work less.”
She holds up a hand. “Okay. You need to stop saying the words sorry and apologize. My heart can’t handle this many surprises in one day.”
“And I’m sorry I said you weren’t a good mother.”
She narrows her eyes. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”
“You’re a good mom.”
She clutches her chest. “Oh no. You did it. I’m a goner.”
