I would take all the abuse these assholes dealt out all day long. But to bring Celia into the thick of it was a step too far. I narrowed my eyes, slid between Celia and Quinn, and flexed my muscles, ready for a fight.
“Flint Mendota! You stand down, right this minute!”
This day just keeps getting better and better.
Celia turned toward the newest guest at the diner, looked at me, and looked back at the woman in the doorway. “You know, that woman looks just like…”
“My Mama. Yes.”
Quinn stepped back, out of respect to Mama, pointed two fingers at his eyes, then flicked them at my face in an “I’ll be watching you, Focker” kind of way. And with that, he left the diner.
“That was a big ole basket of bull crap!” Celia swore in her adorable way.
“Ain’t that the truth,” Dena Mendota O’Meara said at my elbow, then threw her arms around my waist. “Welcome home, son.”
