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As one of the older Collins cousins, Yvonne had spent a fair amount of her childhood babysitting what she and Colm referred to as the baby cousins, Darcy and Oliver. The only other child she’d ever seen with the same level of limitless energy as Clint was Darcy. She also danced whenever she was happy, and the sweet girl was always happy.
“Wanna help Yvonne bake a pie, Vince?” Leo asked. Yvonne got a sense he was trying to find some way to cajole the boy out of his bad mood.
“No.”
Leo’s eyes narrowed. “Vince—” he started.
“I don’t want to!” Vince shot back hotly.
“I think maybe you and I should have a little talk in your room. You’re being very rude to Yvonne.”
“I don’t care!” Vince screamed. “It’s your fault.”
“My fault?” Leo asked.
“You ruin everything. All the time!” There were tears in Vince’s eyes, put there by pure, unfettered anger.
Yvonne had never seen the boy like this. His face was red and his whole body was shaking with fury.
It was disturbing enough that Leo’s previous annoyance faded, his tone one of concern when he said his son’s name again. “Vince.”
“You don’t care about me. Don’t love me. If you did…” Vince was struggling to breathe, every word he said laced with malice. “I don’t want things to change, but you don’t care! You don’t give a shit about me!”
Yvonne gasped, certain this was the first time Vince had ever used an obscenity.
Leo looked completely lost. “Vince, you need to calm down.”
Ryder glanced from Vince to Leo, and then to her, and she could see he was just as confused by Vince’s behavior. “I don’t understand,” he said softly.
“I’m not going to calm down,” Vince continued. “I hate you! I hate you! I wish Mom was still alive. She’d take care of me—and then I wouldn’t need you!” And with that parting shot, Vince ran from the room, slamming his bedroom door behind him.
No one moved for several moments, all four of them stunned into silence until Clint sniffled. “Is Vince gonna get a whipping for cussing?”
Ryder bent down and hugged his son. “Why don’t the two of us go on back to my room for a little while, Clint? We can get showers, wash away the campfire smell, then watch TV.”
Clint nodded, but as he trudged down the hall, he looked like a deflated balloon.
Ryder looked at Vince. “I swear to you, he was fine when we were camping. Laughing, carrying on. I don’t know what happened.” Even as he spoke, Ryder slid a glance in her direction.
Ryder had come to the same conclusion Yvonne had. Vince had been fine…until he came home and found her there. So Leo’s son had seen them kissing on the Ferris wheel. And he didn’t like it.
That answered the question that had niggled in the back of Yvonne’s mind since the day of the fair.
Vince didn’t approve of Leo’s relationship with her.
Neither she nor Leo spoke as Ryder and Clint left the living room. Leo stood motionless, obviously as shell-shocked as she felt.
“He saw us kissing at the fair,” Yvonne said, breaking the silence.
Leo nodded slowly, staring down the hallway. He hadn’t faced her yet.
Yvonne’s chest tightened, and she fought to take a deep breath. She knew what she needed to do—and she couldn’t do it if she fell apart.
“He doesn’t approve.”
“He’s twelve,” Leo said, his voice devoid of emotion. She wished he’d look at her. With his face turned away, she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking, how he was feeling.
Not that it mattered.
