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She nods, reaching out to lightly skim her fingertips down my bicep. “I understand, Prez. They'll be gone before you leave.”
“Good,” I tell her, tipping my chin up and stepping backward, out of her reach.
She gives me a barely perceptible nod, her expression unreadable, before turning on her heel and leaving the kitchen. I exhale, uncrossing my arms as I rejoin Hunter and my mother.
Ma's gaze slants to the hallway Helen just disappeared in, her eyebrows high on her forehead. “What was that all about?”
“Just some bunny business.” I rest my hand on the back of Hunter's hair, the wild strands sticking up from his cowlick. “How's the cookie, bud?”
“It's the best ever,” he says through a mouthful of gooey chocolate and a wide grin.
Ma narrows her eyes at me. “What kind of business?”
I reach over Hunter's head and snag a big cookie off the edge of the rack. “Some new girls said something inappropriate to someone.” I cut my gaze to the back of Hunter's head.
“Hmm,” she says.
I eat half the cookie in one bite and look at my mother. She busies herself with wiping down the counter, avoiding eye contact with me.
“Shit,” I mumble, setting the cookie down on the counter. “What did you do?”
“Jar, Dad,” Hunter says.
“Remind me when we get home, yeah?” I started a swear jar around him a couple years ago, mostly to curb my brother's habit of swearing around Hunter. Nova had him for the day while I was at work, and when I came home that night, I found him running around the house with a cape on singing “motherfucker” at the top of his lungs. Nova was on the couch, bent over and clutching his stomach in that kind of laughter that almost hurts.
But sometimes, I find myself contributing to the vacation fund. Though I try to reel my shit in. Hunter's old enough to know better now, but I'd rather he not go into kindergarten next year calling his classmates some creative insults.
“Okay,” he replies with a little hum.
“Ma, tell me.”
“Well,” she starts, wringing the towel for a moment. She sets it down on the counter, smoothing it out. She rolls her shoulders back and regains some of her composure. She looks at me, all earlier guilt wiped clean from her face. “I told them you're looking for a nanny. And, maybe, they got carried away. I don't know.”
I grit my teeth and narrow my stare at my mother. “What the hell, Ma?”
“What the hell what, Silas?” she snaps. “You've been living like an ostrich these past couple of months, and now my surgery is in just a couple of weeks. You haven't even interviewed the people I've found for you.”
The back of my neck gets hot, and I shift my weight a little. “We have time. And I told you, I'll be fine. He can stay at the garage with me.”
She stares at me, her lips thinning into a scowl. “Time is what we don't have, son. I'm getting my rotator cuff fixed, and I'll be out for a month if I'm lucky. Two if it goes sideways. More if there are complications. And a garage is no place for a five-year-old.”
My throat burns at the thought of complications of her surgery. So, I ignore it and focus on the other thing she said. “I was in the garage all the time at his age, and I turned out just fine.”
She raises both brows, a smirk pulling up the corner of her mouth. “You were there once in a while, but Asher was too little, so you and Lincoln weren't there as often as your father led you to believe. In fact, your favorite thing was to hang out with me in the kitchen. You were my little shadows.”
I roll my eyes, but I can't help the small chuckle that escapes my lips. “If you say so.”
“Silas,” she says, her voice softening as she reaches out to lay her hand on mine. “I just want what's best for Hunter—and you. And you both need someone to take care of him while I'm recovering.”
I sigh, the noise weighted. “Fine, you bring me some real options, and I'll pick one. No bunnies though. I mean it, Ma.”
She nods and leans back, satisfied with my answer. “You can count on me, son.”
“I know,” I acknowledge quietly. “Thanks, Ma.”
We fall into comfortable silence. Hunter finishes his cookie and chats about nothing in particular, filling the quiet air with a sense of contentment. I can only hope that I'm not putting myself in a shit position by agreeing to do it her way.
11
