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“Ya know, so Kenny will have a pal to play with.” There’s a long stretch of silence as I consider the invitation. “I promise to make sure she is securely snapped into her car seat, I’ll drive the speed limit, break no laws; I’ll feed her healthy food and take lots of pictures for you!”
“At a pumpkin patch? Are you pullin’ my leg? I can’t imagine anything worthy of adventure at a frickin’ pumpkin patch.”
“No! It’s awesome! They have goats and chickens, and tricycles, and these huge play areas for kids; even little playhouses. It will keep them busy for hours. We’ll stop for dinner on the way home, if they can stay awake.”
I trust Jo, and I think it would do Belle some good to spend time with someone other than Laney and my mom.
“Yeah, I mean, I guess that’s okay. Anything I need to know? How to dress her? When will you be coming home? Ya know, the basics?”
“How about we discuss details when I pick her up tomorrow?”
“Sounds good, darlin’. I’ll see ya then.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
JORDAN
“Aunt JoJo, whys we takin’ Belly to the punkin plwace?”
Things aren’t going as planned. Each fall, Erin and I go to Noble Farms and spend the day pickin’ pumpkins, apples, shopping the small craft vendors all while letting Kenny run his energy out in the Amish play area. Except Erin woke up this morning with a fever, vomiting profusely, and that dreaded D word that no proper lady likes to discuss.
Typically, I would have canceled the trip until Erin’s feeling better, but I already invited Belle to come along with us. I absolutely refuse to break that little girl’s heart, so it looks like I’m braving the field trip to the pumpkin patch alone.
Have wine and chocolate cake on standby.
I’ll suffer in the gym next week.
“We’re gonna have a good time, Ken-man.”
“We’s always has a good time, Aunt JoJo, but I don’t know why Belly is coming.” Kenny huffs and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Because Belle is my friend. Belle’s your friend too, ain’t she?”
Kenny considers this for a moment, his index finger tapping his lip. “I guess so.” Kenny shrugs and turns to gaze out the window. He’s in a bit of a mood today, and I pray he isn’t I’ sick. I refuse to clean up vomit that’s not my own.
I leave him to his thoughts and turn the stereo up as we drive to Madden’s house. Mere moments later, Ken-man speaks up and asks, “Where’s she come fwom anyways?”
“Who, bub?”
“Belly. Where’s she come fwom?” He shrugs, waiting for an answer, but I have no earthly idea what he means.
Quirking my brow, I deadpan in the rearview mirror. “You’ve lost me, kid.”
Ken-man sighs in exasperation, his palm slapping his face dramatically. “Belly’s not got a momma.” His shoulders scrunch up to his ears then relax. “Did she come from those big ugwy birds in the sky, or from the cabbage patch?”
Do … huh?
What is he saying?
“What has your daddy been letting you watch?”
Ken-man shrugs, pursing his lips. “Bubba, Belle has a mommy and daddy, just like you. Kiddos can’t come from birds or vegetables. That would be some kind of sorcery or witchcraft, or…” I glance back through the rearview mirror and notice his confusion.
“But everybody at school says she has gots no momma. She was cwying the other day because she can’t goes to the tea party. Is that why she’s coming to the punkin patch, cause she can’t has tea?”
I’m not hearing him correctly. These kids can’t already be picking on each other at such a young and delicate age, right? This world is so pathetic and ugly, but is bullying truly an issue in preschool? My heart absolutely bleeds for Belle.
“Auntie, is you cwyin’?” I don’t even realize I’m choking back tears until Ken-man mentions it. I swipe away at the wetness on my chee
