“Ethan,” she wails.
“Shh, I’m okay, T. I’m okay.”
“You’re not. You’re all bruised and swollen and it’s so horrible.” Another wail.
“You saying, I’m ugly?” I ask, trying to lighten the moment.
She nods. “You look like you went ten rounds with the Hulk.”
“Sorry, but the Hulk is right next to me and he’s bruised up too.”
“I know,” a high-pitched cry.
“Stop now or you’ll make yourself sick. We don’t want get the little one upset,” I remind her, rubbing my uncasted hand over her belly.
She leans back and Linc hands her the tissue box.
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, then blows her nose loudly, reminding me of Sera. “Hormones.”
“Uh huh,” Linc says.
She gives him a look. “I am eight months pregnant, you know.”
“Well aware, baby sister, that you’ve got a Mackenzie spawn growing in there. What if it comes out like Alien and shit?” Linc teases.
“If I knew it wouldn’t hurt you so much, I’d slap you really hard,” Tera scolds.
“I doubt I’d feel it,” Linc taunts.
“Children, children,” Mrs. M says, pushing a cart full of food and drinks.
I groan. “I can smell those enchiladas over here.”
“Enchiladas?” Tera perks up.
“Didn’t you just eat?” Linc asks.
“I’m pregnant. Shut up.”
“There’s enough for you and the baby,” Mrs. M tells her.
Tera preens, flaunting her grin at Linc who flips her off.
“I can get my own…”
Mrs. M looks over at me. “You will sit. I’ll bring you your tray. Tera can eat by the table with Kennedy.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I don’t ever disagree with Mrs. M. Arguing with her is a losing battle.
When she brings the tray over, and sets it on my lap, I reach for her, giving her a hug. “I love you, Mrs. M. Thanks for taking care of us.”
She sniffles. “Anything for my boys.”
“Thanks, Mama,” Linc tells her when she brings him a tray as well.
“I’m so angry this happened,” she starts. “I’m glad Sera and Cage will have this dealt with.”
I’m kinda surprised she’s so… okay with la Famiglia ‘taking out’ people for this. Yet, in other ways I’m not.
