Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“My best friend,” he said, sighing. He pulled his blanket against his face and stared down at his feet as I closed the door between us.
“You know, maybe it would be better if me and Rhett spent some time without you,” Michael said, startling me as I turned toward my door.
My stomach lurched. “What?”
“When you get somethin’ up your ass, he thinks I’m the problem,” Michael said in exasperation. “Which I get because you’re his mama. But you seem to have somethin’ permanently stuck up there, so he’s never gonna fuckin’ talk to me.”
“He met you yesterday.”
“And whose fault is that?” Michael snapped, his voice getting louder.
“You’re not taking him anywhere,” I said firmly, glancing at Rhett through the window. “Now can we leave the parking lot, or do you want to continue giving everyone—including our son—a show?”
Without another word, he rounded the hood of my car and climbed into the front seat. As I got in my own seat, my mind raced. I didn’t know how to make things easier between us. If I wanted Rhett to have a good relationship with his dad, I needed to facilitate it. I knew that. But I wasn’t sure how to ease the tension. It really didn’t matter what we were talking about. There was always this undercurrent of something threading through the conversation. My son wasn’t stupid, and he’d spent his first year and a half living with my parents—he knew how to read body language and tone.
I wasn’t any closer to figuring out what to do when we pulled up in front of my old house. Michael’s house. I needed to start thinking of it as Michael’s house. When I got Rhett out of the car, he whined and refused to walk, and I had to carry him inside.
“Hey buddy,” I murmured into his ear as I kicked off my shoes near the front door. “You wanna play with your cars?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?” I needled. “You love cars.”
I gave him a squeeze as he pushed his forehead against my neck.
“Okay.” He was so quiet I almost didn’t hear him.
“Come on, I’ll grab your cars,” I said, carrying him into the living room. I ignored Michael as he went into the kitchen and began cleaning up the coffee we’d left.
“Here you go,” I said, unzipping his little backpack so I could pour the cars onto the carpet. “How’s that?”
“Mama play?” Rhett asked as I set him on his feet.
“Not this time,” I replied. “But I’ll be right back, okay?”
He babbled something I didn’t understand, but in less than a minute, he was happily playing with the toys.
“I’m sorry about the stuff I said in the restaurant,” I murmured as I walked into the kitchen. “It was shitty.”
“Nova’s smart as hell,” Mick replied. “She’s savin’ up to go to school so she can cut hair and shit.”
“I’m sure she is,” I replied quietly as my stomach lurched. “She seemed nice.”
“She’s fuckin’ great,” he said, swinging the dishwasher closed. “And she doesn’t deserve people talkin’ shit, not even passive-aggressive comments about what she’s doin’ with her life.”
“You’re right,” I said, turning away from the window. “It was stupid.”
“Funny thing is, you’d like her,” he said, leaning against the counter. “The two of you are a lot alike.”
I really didn’t want to hear about how alike me and the beautiful woman from the pancake house were, especially since Michael seemed to be a little too defensive of her.
“You’ve been weird all mornin’,” Michael said, watching me closely. “Havin’ second thoughts about comin’ back here?”
“Not at all,” I replied quickly, shaking my head. I glanced into the living room. Rhett was driving cars off the edge of the couch. “I’m glad we’re here.”
“You know I’d never do anythin’ to hurt him, right?” Michael asked seriously.
“Of course,” I replied hastily, turning to look at him.
“You were pretty damn quick to say I couldn’t have him on my own.”
I swallowed hard at the accusation in his words.
“He’s not ready for that yet.”
“Is he ever gonna be ready?”
“Why would you even ask me that?”
“Just tryin’ to see where we stand,” he said flatly.
“We just got here, Michael,” I said, lifting my hands palms up. “Give him a few days at least.”
“I’m not plannin’ on takin’ him from you.”
My entire body flared hot and then instantly ice cold at the words. Maybe it was naïve of me, or just plain stupid, but that scenario hadn’t even occurred to me. Now that he’d said it, I couldn’t think of anything else.
He had a home. A job. A close-knit family for support.
I had a beat-up Subaru filled to the brim with Rhett’s things and a suitcase full of clothes.
“I’m a good mother,” I rasped, taking a step back toward the door. “I’m a fucking great mother.”
“I never said you weren’t,” he said gently, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion.