The offer took me by surprise. No doubt Waspcoulddistract Trent from the father-sized hole in his heart. For a time. He’d make tomorrow a hell of a lot easier, but then what? Wasp would eventually grow bored and bail, leaving behind his own hole in Trent’s heart. My kid would grow up with an organ resembling swiss cheese in his chest, and would probably turn to drugs and alcohol to fill it. All to make one stupid day easier. “Thanks, but we’ve got this.”
He stood, his face twisting in frustration as he ran a hand across the back of his neck. “I’m fuckin’ this all up. What I mean to say is… you and Trent have allies. Whatever’s going on… whether it’s Father’s Day or if this bad man Trent talks about finds you… you don’t have to do this shit alone. I can help you, Carly.”
Confused, I stared at him. “Why would you want to?”
“Because you and Trent are cool, and I want to get to know you both better.”
He had to have an angle. Everyone always did. Was he using Trent to get to me? “What doyouknow about my kid?” I asked.
Wasp shrugged, seemingly unaffected by my tone. “Not a whole hell of a lot, but I’d like to know more. He’s a funny kid. He makes me laugh.”
Trent was a lot of things, but rarely funny. I arched an eyebrow at Wasp, letting him know I wasn’t fooled.
He held up his hands. “No, I’m serious. He’s fuckin’ hilarious. The first day I met him he complimented my pecs. Never met a kid who did that before. Some blonde girl, the little sasshole who narked on him, she asked what pecs were and Trent informed the whole class that girls have boobies and boys have pecs.”
Sasshole? I was still trying to figure out what that meant when the rest of Wasp’s words sank in. Imagining the scene and the reaction of all the biker volunteers, I cradled my head in my hands. “I’ve told that kid a hundred times he’s not supposed to say boobies in public. That’s not funny, it’s humiliating. Those teachers probably think I’m a stripper or a prostitute or something.”
“Babe, he’s not the first little boy to say boobies, and he sure as hell won’t be the last. It was funny as shit, though. Not one of us could keep a straight face. We had to regroup in the hallway and try again. His comedic timing is on point. Especially with those ‘that’s what she said’ jokes. I know he doesn’t know what he’s saying, but my God he always hits it right on.”
“Shit. He’s doing those again? He promised me he’d stop. You think it’s funny, but I get phone calls almost every day. I feel like everything I’m doing is wrong. Like he’s gonna grow up and be really fucked up because I didn’t discipline him right or was too lenient with him or something.” Why was I telling Wasp this, making myself sound weak and insecure? I wanted him to know I was trying, that I wasn’t a bad mom by choice.
He laughed. Not exactly the response I expected or wanted. I narrowed my eyes, but he only laughed harder.
“Sorry, babe, but I can guarantee you your kid doesn’t have shit on me. I got kicked out of Boy Scouts for cheating in the Pinewood Derby race.”
I blinked. “You were a Boy Scout?”
“Damn straight. At least until they kicked me out. It wasn’t so much the modifications I did to my own derby car as it was the fake modifications I charged the other kids for. I took their money, so I could get a feel for their cars and make sure mine could beat them.”
“What kind of Boy Scout cheats?” I asked.
“The kind who’s trying to win. That’s not the worst place I was kicked out of. Not by a long shot. Don’t think I made it through a single church camp without my parents getting the call to come pick me up. They were desperate to get some Jesus in me, but I was just trying to get into some cute little church girls.”
I was nibbling on a carrot and choked, surprised by his crude honesty. “Ohmigod.”
“That’s what she said,” he deadpanned.
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. He was so… unexpected. Tears of a different kind stung my eyes. Relief? Exhaustion? Humor? Whatever it was, I suddenly felt lighter than I had all day. “You’re somethin’ else,” I said.
“So I hear. You gonna give me your number now?”
Relentless. Still laughing, I shook my head. “Not a chance, Romeo. I don’t need some biker-soldier-church boy trying to get inme.” More heat flooded my cheeks as what I’d said sank in. It had been so long since I’d felt comfortable enough to be real in front of anyone. Guilt tugged at my conscience, reminding me of why I couldn’t do this. Why I had to keep everyone at an arm’s length. Standing, I went to the fridge and put my snack away. Rubbing my hands on my shorts, I turned toward the door.
“I gotta get back to work.”
Wasp watched me for a moment, his expression unreadable, before grabbing a napkin and a pen from the center of the table. He scribbled something on the napkin and held it out toward me.
“What’s that?” I asked, eyeing the napkin.
“My number. Since you won’t give me yours.”
Warning bells went off in the back of my mind. This was dangerous territory, and I needed to get out of it. I needed to run away to somewhere loud and busy where thoughts and dreams couldn’t penetrate. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
He stood. “It’s just a phone number. I know you’re strong and independent and all that shit, but you might need help someday.” Closing the distance between us, he held out the napkin again.
I couldn’t take it. I didn’t have the courage, the strength, or the trust in me to accept his offer. “Sorry, Romeo, but that napkin would cost way more than I can afford.”
His brow furrowed and his mouth opened, but I got the hell out of there before he could change my mind.
