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of beers. You don’t have a
problem with that, do you?
I do, actually. Leaving me
here, alone, while he’s out
who-knows-where? But I’m
not going to say that. “Why
didn’t you call? Didn’t it occur
to you I might get worried?”
I’m okay, Kristina. I’m okay,
you’re okay. Everything’s okay.
I’m a big boy. I know what I’m
doing. And you don’t have to
worry about where I am or what
I’m up to. You’re not my mommy.
No way for this to go but from bad
to worse. I could fall silent.
Ballistic will feel better. “No, I’m not
your mommy. But I am a mommy,
and we had an emergency here today.
I couldn’t get hold of you. Why won’t
you just answer your fucking phone
when I call? What’s wrong with you?”
If I answer, I’ll just have to listen
to this kind of shit…. His voice is almost
as loud as mine, and now Hunter wakes
up. His crying makes my words sink in.
As I go to give him a comfort bottle,
Trey asks, What kind of emergency?
I don’t tell him everything, just
that Hunter bit through his lip.
