“They loved them.”
“Mom’s making some mini strawberry and chocolate cupcakes for my class next week,” he says brightly.
“Wow, what a combination!”
Deaton giggles. “Not together, separate cupcakes!”
“Oh, I see. Silly me,” I chuckle along with him. “What’s the special occasion for the mini cupcakes?”
Deaton immediately stops laughing and stares ahead of him out the window. All of a sudden he seems rigid, his little hands clasped together in his lap, his lips pressing together tightly.
“Deat?” I ask, wondering why the sudden shift. “What’s wrong?”
He shrugs his shoulders and I don’t miss the sigh that leaves him. “It’s nothing.”
But I know it’s something. His whole demeanor has changed in an instant.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me, but it’s okay if you want to share it, too. My brothers might not agree with me, but I’m a pretty good listener.” I glance at him and a little smile tries to break out on his face.
“You’re nice. Mom says you’re nice all the time,” he says. “And I think she’s making the mini cupcakes for my class because she feels bad.”
I glance at him as we stop at the lights, just around the corner from the soccer ground, as I take in more of his revelations.
“Yeah? What do you think she feels bad about?”
He sighs again and swipes his hand over his nose. “That I don’t have a daddy,” he sniffs. “And some other kids in my class don’t have a daddy, either.”
A lump forms in my throat quicker than I can blink. Oh shit. “Is there something happening at school with dads next week?” I ask.
He nods slowly. “Yeah. It’s bring your dad or buddy day. My teacher, Mrs. Kite, says it’s okay if some kids don’t have a dad, because there are all kinds of families. We can take our grandpa, or our uncle, or even a friend. But I don’t have anyone, Grandpais on vacation.” His little lip trembles and I feel it right to my gut. Fuck.
“You’ve got me,” I say immediately. “I mean, we would have to check with your mom that it’s okay, but I could come to school and be your buddy? That’s if you’d like that?”
His head whips around to me so fast, his eyes wide and curious. It’s like I’ve lit up his world again. “You’d do that?”
“Well, you are my buddy, right? And I’m yours.”
His smile says it all as he relaxes back into the seat. “Yep!”
I smile to myself. Poor little guy. My parents may have split when I was a teen, but they remained friends. Seeing Deaton sad about not having a dad is like a punch to the gut.
There’s no way I’m going to disappoint him or let him miss out. And who knows? I might even enjoy it.
Chapter Ten
CHELSEA
My phone dings just as I’m closing up for the day. I turned the open sign around in the front window and fish my phone out of my apron pocket.
I smile when I open it and see some photos of Mom and Dad having a great time in Florida. I’m so happy for them, as it’s been a while since they had a break.
Today has been manic, especially with having Marlene down with the flu. That’s the only thing with a small team; if one person gets sick, then the whole team could go down. So it’s best she stay home until she gets better. Luckily, I don’t seem to have any symptoms, but Deaton is always coming home with the sniffles.
I’m planning on going over to watch the last little bit of Deaton’s soccer training. They always have a little practice game at the end and I don’t like missing it.
Deaton really loves it, and he’s actually pretty good with his feet. The team has been fundraising for a new uniform because, let’s face it, the ones they have currently are years old. Unfortunately, like most things with the school, it’s the parents who are left to rally around for new things because the school budget only stretches so far. I’ve helped by having a bake sale,and volunteered at the car wash the kids did last month, but with printing costs and apparel at an all-time high, it could be a few more months until the team sees anything new. Not that the kids know any better, but it would be nice for them to have a new winter set with the team logo on it when the cooler months drop in.
I pull my mini-van into the lot and take a breath. I didn’t do anything fancy before I left the bakery, just changed my shirt and headed out the door. But when I look in the rear vision mirror and see my slightly unkempt state, my eyes widen. Eep. Pulling out my scrunchie, I ruffle my hair a little… when that doesn’t work; I tilt my head and shake my hair, that helps some. I even smudge on some lip balm and smack my lips together — then stop. Why am I so concerned about how I look all of a sudden? I mean, I’m not a complete slob. Most days I try to put myself together to some degree. But sometimes I haven’t washed my hair — thank god for hats — other days I’m running out the door with cake batter all over myself, and not realizing until later on I have most of it stuck to my face. After a few seconds of fluffing, I give up and tie my hair back up in a ponytail, how it originally was. I reach for my deodorant and give myself a quick quick spray. Grabbing my thermal cup full of caramel latte I made earlier, I head out.
