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Mymake your own damn coffeecame out as a “sure.” He disappeared into the bathroom, and I wandered downstairs.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the hall mirror. My hair was a rat’s nest where I’d slept on it wet. I was pale and looked more exhausted than I felt.
“Don’t tellPatrick we took a banana.” I shifted Blake on my hip and peeled back the skin.
He smushed the piece I broke off for him between his fingers and smeared most of it on his face.
“The point is to get it in your mouth.” I demonstrated with my own piece, and he giggled.
This time he spread the banana on my cheek.
“You’re a silly man.”
“You two are having too much fun for this hour.” Patrick strolled in, dressed and ready to kill in a crisp navy suit.
“What is that noise?” I asked as he grabbed a couple of mugs from the cabinet.
“Noise?” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “It’s called T.I. And he’s awesome.”
He turned up the volume and sang along while he filled our coffee cups. I accepted the one he offered, but nearly gagged when I got a whiff.
“Take this back.”
“Did you poison it?”
“No, you ass. It’s making me nauseous.”
“Ass!”
“Wonder where he picked that up?” He set my cup back on the counter. “I thought you felt better.”
“I do. Did. That just—” I turned my nose up and stuffed another bite of banana in my mouth.
Patrick kissed Blake’s head and stole his own bite from what was left of the fruit. Of course, Blake giggled. This kid.
“Want me to call you a cab to get to your dad’s?”
“I need to talk to him. I hadn’t asked him to take Blake today, and I didn’t hear from him last night. Which is weird,” I said with annoyance. I was still angry that he hadn’t called me about taking Blake to Patrick’s office. What was that about? Dad was normally very honest and forthcoming.
“That’s odd.” I rolled my eyes, something I seemed to do a bit around Patrick. “But you know he wouldn’t have asked me to take Blake and Ella if he hadn’t been needed by Mrs. Quinn.”
That was the problem with talking to a lawyer. They always looked for a reason and justification for someone’s actions.
“He should have gotten a message to me.”
“Agreed. But he knew Blake was in safe hands. And . . . well, Mrs. Quinn is good for him.”
“There was a time he’d never ditch his grandson for a woman.” I hated the words as they came out of my mouth. My dad did deserve to be happy. Deep down I knew that, but I was still hurt and angry. Would that ever go away?
Patrick took another sip of his coffee—making me envious—and propped his hip against the counter. I felt like I was about to get a lecture, so I grabbed a Kleenex and started wiping banana off Blake’s fingers. I needed to get a wet towel. I needed to get out of—
“What would make you happy, Wicked?”
For my life to go back to how it used to be.
“Nothing.” I pressed my lips to Blake’s temple and whispered, “I love you.”
“He’s what you live for.”
