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“Bree and Flint are going to ask the kid if they can adopt him. Once he’s eighteen, they don’t have to look for permission from any biological relative and Bree’s been mothering him since she laid eyes on him, anyway,” Roy explains. “I think not having a child of her own, well, they want him to know he’ll always have a place to land.”
“Wow,” I say for lack of anything else. “Doesn’t Flint have kids with his ex?”
“They’re all grown, with kids of their own. That’s where he was last week, he wanted to sit them down and lay it out, to make sure they didn’t have any objections.”
I just nod my head, wondering what the kid will decide. While Flint originally had him moved into the clubhouse, Bree put her foot down the morning after the first party that took place with him hanging around. I had felt more dead than alive as I woke up on the pool table with a naked woman next to me, and immediately felt a chill wash over my body; like I was in grave danger.
Bree isn’t one to lose her shit, but that day her neck was bright red and the look on her face froze me in my tracks. I shifted my eyes around the room to notice I wasn’t the only one present who looked like they were watching the countdown timer on a bomb.
Madda’s head had been shaven the night before, at least the part that was reachable from where it had fallen when he had passed out. He was holding it upright with both hands, like it was no longer attached to his neck, he had vomit on his clothes, and the hair that was left made him look like some demented clown.
I remember almost cracking a smile when that thought crossed my mind, but a hiss caught my attention and I shifted my gaze to Russian, who gave me the smallest shake of his head.
Bree’s voice was, thankfully low, but strained, as she kept her gaze on Flint and told him that Joe was coming to live with them. There was no discussion, not in the middle of the clubhouse, nor that I ever heard rumors of afterward.
She shifted her gaze from her Old Man to each set of conscious eyes in the room. I don’t know what the others felt because Inever manned up enough to ask any of them, but when Bree looked at me, I knew that if I ever crossed her again, or someone she consideredhers, they’d never find my body.
That was the day I fell in love with Bree. Notherper say, but the qualities I saw in her, and topping that list was devotion to those she cared about.
And that memory makes it all click into place. Both my mom and Molly have that same trait.
*
Approaching the town square, I smile to myself when I turn a corner to see a woman wildly gesturing as she yells into her cell phone. I keep going after pausing to make sure that the bench I had sponsored for the next six months had been completed to my specifications.
Just down the block, I nod my head as I see Michaels leaving the police station, looking especially frustrated as he walks in the direction I came from—toward the screaming lady, and I feel particularly pleased with myself, so I decide to chance a stop at the bakery.
“Good…” Molly starts to call out a cheerful greeting until her eyes land on my face, ending her sentence with a mumbled, “Riddance.”
“It’s still morning, chicklet,” I observe, looking at my watch as I pretend to misunderstand her. Not wanting to push my luck, I’m already pointing at what I want. “I was hoping for my coffee and one of those, if that’s alright?”
She loudly exhales as she narrows her eyes, but turns to start my coffee before placing a ham and gruyere stuffed croissant in an oven. Without a word, she rings up my order and looks at me.
I just smile at her, waiting for her to tell me the total even though it’s on the screen right in front of me. A moment slowly ticks away before she turns to finish my coffee and retrieve my pastry.
“How much will that be?” I ask, not breaking eye contact with her, even when she points at the screen. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner one night this week?”
“Please stop asking me out, Royce,” she replies after a moment. “And it’s seven dollars.”
I put a ten down, ignoring the three dollars she places on the counter, before I make her a deal. “Let me take you on a date. One time, and I’ll stop asking.”
“Yes, I understand you’re good at that,” she responds, her eyes suddenly looking sad before her mask snaps back into place.
“That was a low blow, sugar snap,” I say, leaning unnecessarily close to her as I pick up my items, and deciding I don’t have much to lose at this point, I head over to the small table in the corner. “And not what I meant.”
It’s the first time I’ve eaten in, so I slowly take in the room, noticing a small, framed picture that hangs near the door and seems to be the only personal item in here. I’m about to stand up to get a closer look at it when I notice Michaels walking determinedly across the square.
I frown, wondering why everyone calls it a square when it’s more of a rectangle, but I tense up when I see the pissed off look on his face.
Entering the shop, he barely spares me a glance and waves off Molly’s attempt at a greeting.
“Can you close your shop and come with me for a moment?” Although it comes out as a question, it isn’t. As demonstratedby him immediately reopening the door and holding it for her. I don’t miss the look he gives me either.
Molly’s face pales and she looks at me.
“I’ll keep watch and won’t touch a thing,” I promise her.
“Actually, I have cakes in the oven,” she says, looking between us. “Will this take long?”
