Page 27
I tossed the covers back and dragged myself out of bed, stretching a moment before throwing on a T-shirt. I made my way into the kitchen and immediately spotted Sam with his face peering into the fridge.
He was wearing my sweatshirt. His little legs were poking out beneath the oversized hem, and his hair was sticking up in a hundred different directions. “Morning, knucklehead.”
“Morning.” He glanced over his shoulder as he announced, “I’m hungry, but there’s nothing in here to eat.”
“There’s stuff to eat. You’re just not looking in the right place.”
“I just want some cereal.”
“You always want cereal.” I walked over to the cabinet and pulled out the pancake mix. “How about some bacon and pancakes for a change?”
“Yeah, that’d be cool.”
“Good.”
I looked at him again and smiled at how cute he looked in that damn sweatshirt. And then, something strange twisted in my chest. Last night, it had smelled like Emery’s perfume. Now, it would smell like him. It shouldn’t have bothered me, but the thought made my throat so tight I had to swallow to push it down.
“Shit.”
Sam looked up at me with concern. “What?”
“Nothing.” I grabbed a bowl from the cabinet. “Go wake up your sister.”
“Why?”
“Because she takes longer to get going than you do.”
“Okay.” He paused for a minute before asking, “How long before we gotta leave for the party?”
“’Bout an hour or so.”
“You coming, too?”
“I reckon.”
“You gonna give me some playing money?”
“Well, yeah… No sense in going to an arcade if you can’t play.”
“Yes!”
Smiling, he took off down the hallway, and I got busy making breakfast. Once it was ready, they ate every bite, and while I cleaned up, they showered and changed.
Sam argued about brushing his hair, saying messy was the new style, but I didn’t get it. Dude looked like he’d slept with a pack of rats, but I let it go. He was growing up, and if he wanted jacked-up hair, I didn’t see the harm in it.
Reese, on the other hand, not only wanted her hair brushed, but also put up in a braid. It had taken me a few tries, but I’d figured it out and was pretty decent at it. Once I’d finished with her hair, she finished putting her things together, and she and Sam were waiting in the living room with their gift in hand.
I guess it was time to get the show on the road. I wasn’t exactly thrilled about spending the next two hours around screaming kids, but my two were bursting at the seams to get there. By the time we walked in, I was ready for a beer. Instead, I grabbed a soda and stood off in the back corner, watching as my kids tore through the place.
It took Sam all of ten minutes to go through the first handful of quarters I’d given him. He was playing anything and everything, but Reese was strategic when she and her little friend, Peyton, picked out their games. They were looking for the ones that gave out the most tickets, and once they found the big winner, they stayed put, feeding it one quarter after the next.
Every few minutes, they’d run over to me and give me their latest wad of tickets. I’d refill their cup, and they were back at it. I kept my eyes on both of them. It didn’t matter how tired I was or how crowded the place got; I knew where my kids were at all times.
It was just how I was wired. Maybe it was from being in the club for so long, or maybe it was the fact that I refused to be the dad who looked away for two minutes and ended up regretting it for the rest of his life. Regardless, they were my number one priority, even when my phone buzzed in my pocket.
I kept my eyes trained on Reese and Peyton as I pulled it out and read:
Mercy:
