I blink, then laugh. “How do you even know that word?”
He shrugs. “Kourt says it whenever someone has a birthday.”
Of course. His little classmate with the teenage-sister vocabulary.
I kneel to Milo’s level. “Well, mister, you are way too young to partay.” I boop his nose, and he giggles.
A horn honks outside.
I sigh. “Okay, finish up. We’re running late.”
I grab his coat, bag, lunch and usher him toward the door.
We rush outside, cold air biting at our cheeks. Harvey is leaning against his car like every morning, arms crossed, sunglasses on, expression unimpressed.
“Every morning,” he drawls.
Milo’s eyes go wide. “Sorry, Uncle Havey.”
Harvey snorts. “It’s fine, sport. You’re lucky you’re cute.”
I hand over Milo’s bag. “Thank you. Seriously.”
Harvey nods, but then stops, clears his throat, and abruptly looks away.
Confused, I glance down…
My robe is hanging half open.
“Oh god,” I mutter, laughing as I tighten the belt. “Sorry. It’s just been one of those days.”
“Uh-huh,” Harvey says, not unkindly. “Get some rest, Lore.”
Milo climbs into the backseat, already swinging his legs. “Bye Mommy!”
“Bye, baby,” I say, leaning in to kiss Milo’s cheek.
Harvey studies me for a moment, head tilted just slightly. “Everything okay with Patrick?”
I look away, biting the inside of my cheek. I guess Patrick’s weird mood yesterday wasn’t as subtle as he thought. “It’s just a stupid argument,” I say quietly.
Harvey presses his lips together, clearly debating something. “You want me to talk to him? Go all big-brother on him?”
I can’t help the small laugh that escapes. “No. We’ll be fine. We’re both off today, so… we’ll have time to talk it through.”
He nods, accepting that. “Good. Communication is key…”
“In a marriage,” we finish together.
I roll my eyes. “The Boise family motto for a successful marriage.”
“Hey,” Harvey says, hands up, “it works.”
He gives me one more searching look before sliding into the driver’s seat. Milo waves energetically from the back, his whole arm flapping like he’s trying to take flight.
I smile and wave back until the car disappears down the street. Then I turn toward the house.
I don’t know when Patrick got home last night. I just woke up and there he was. And judging by the gulf of mattress between us this morning, I’m guessing he’s still pissed.
