I feel Tommy step closer to me, his body going rigid. My hand lands protectively on his shoulder.
“They’re fine,” I say, my voice pleasant but firm. “Just excited for break to start.”
Sean’s attention shifts back to me, his smile appearing so quickly it’s almost unsettling. “Speaking of break, I was wondering if you had any plans? There’s this new restaurant downtown I’ve been wanting to try...”
He trails off expectantly, and I realize with a sinking feeling this is the fourth time he’s asked me out this month. Each time, I’ve tried to let him down gently, citing being too busy with the boys or grading papers.
“Mom,” Tommy tugs at my hand, his voice low. “We need to meet the landlord, remember?”
Bless you my child for helping me move this along.
“That’s right,” I say, grateful for the reminder even though it’s been the only thing on my mind for weeks. “Actually, Sean, we’re moving this weekend. I’ve found a new place for us.”
“Moving?” His eyebrows shoot up. “Where to? Maybe I could help. I’m surprisingly strong despite my lean physique.” He flexes his puny bicep, as if to demonstrate.
“No!” I blurt out, then immediately feel my cheeks heat up. “I mean,” I plaster on another fake smile. “That’s very kind, but we’ve got it handled. My cousin is helping us.”
“But surely you could use another set of hands,” Sean persists, stepping closer. I catch a whiff of his expensive cologne. “I’m free all weekend.”
“Mom, I’m starving,” Jackson whines, tugging on my other hand. “My tummy hurts.”
Thank the Gods for hungry children.
“I’m so sorry, Sean, but we really need to go,” I say, already backing toward the door. “The landlord’s waiting for us, and Jackson needs his medicine with food.”
It’s not exactly true that he needs his insulin right this second, but Sean doesn’t know that, and I’m not above using my son’s medical condition as an excuse when necessary.
Sean’s expression falls, but he recovers quickly. “Well, maybe after you’re settled in? New Year’s Eve, perhaps?”
“We’ll see,” I say noncommittally. “Enjoy your break, Sean. Merry Christmas.”
I hustle the boys toward the exit before he can respond, feeling his eyes on my back the entire way.
“Is Mr. Milner going to be your boyfriend?” Tommy asks as soon as we’re through the doors, his voice dripping with disgust.
A snort escapes me before I can stop it. “Absolutely not.”
“Good,” Tommy says firmly. “I don’t like him. He’s not nice.”
“Me either,” Jackson pipes in, though I suspect he’s just agreeing with his brother.
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that,” I assure them as we approach our minivan. It’s parked at the far end of the lot, packed to the brim with all of our belongings. “The only men in my life are you two handsome devils.”
Tommy looks relieved, but Jackson frowns. “What about Dad?”
My heart gives a painful squeeze at the loss my boys feel from not having Eddie around. “Your dad doesn’t live with us, silly.”
“But he’s still your boyfriend, right?” Jackson presses.
Tommy rolls his eyes. “No, dummy. Mom and Dad aren’t together like that.”
“Don’t call your brother a dummy,” I say automatically, unlocking the van. “And no, Jackson. Your dad and I aren’t together. We haven’t been since before you were born.”
“Then why does he still call you ‘babe’ when he calls?” Jackson asks, his face scrunched in confusion as he pulls the handle to open the rear sliding door.
Because your father is a manipulative asshole who doesn’t understand boundaries.
I don’t say that to my five year old, of course. “That’s just... an old habit,” I lie, helping him into his booster seat. “Seat belts, please.”
