And when she laughs? I’ve never been affected by a woman like this before. Not even Chanel. Misty has every part of me buzzing and vibrating.
“Come on, baby, we gotta get going. We have a shopping date, remember?”
Bernie lights up. “Okay! Can I put Chunky inside?”
I nod and smile. There’s nothing quite like making Bernie happy. I think I’m finally starting to understand the appealeveryone talks about with kids. How fulfilling parenting is. The rest still sounds like shit, but this? This is okay.
When Bernie slips inside, Misty turns to me, her voice low. “This isn’t the first time Bernie’s been over here, is it?”
“Never inside the house,” I say. I’m an asshole, but I’m not a creep. Hell, I kill creeps. “She just likes to talk to me.”
“Why do you entertain it?”
Logical question. “Because I like talking to Bernie, too. She doesn’t pull any punches. If she thinks it, she says it. And she’s pretty fucking wise for—”
“Having Down Syndrome?”
“No,” I say, offended. “For being only eight.”
She settles, and I realize for the first time what Misty has probably gone through over the past eight years. How many people have made comments about Bernie’s condition to her. It’s why she tells Bernie she’s just as good as everyone else.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have attacked you like that.”
“I’m tough,” I say. “Wanna talk about it?”
Letting out a deep breath, her shoulders sag. “I’ve had to deal with too many people talking about my kid like she’s impressive because they think she’s less than. I jump on the defensive.”
I nod and give her a small smile. “You’re a good mama, Misty. Bernie tossed out a little nugget of wisdom you shared with her on me today. Looks like she gets more than her glare from her mama.”
“Do me one favor?”
“What’s that?”
“Stop sayingfuckaround her. She’s said it a couple of times in the past week, which is kind of what tipped me off that she’s been talking to you.”
Angry mothers have always scared me. I’ve dealt with a few, and I’ve received my fair share of wooden spoon spankings. All of which were more than deserved.
“Sorry. If I’m honest, I don’t like her being home alone. Just in case. I know it’s not for long, but it doesn’t take long for something to happen. Trust me.”
Her eyes narrow as she studies me. “Yeah? What’d you do?”
“He started his kitchen on fire when he was twelve,” Bernie says as she steps out onto the porch, pulling the door shut behind her. “I put Chunky on his cat tower because he kept running after me.”
Fucking traitor. “He’s going to be a monster all night.”
“You started your kitchen on fire?” Misty asks.
“I wanted cookies,” I say with a shrug. “Mama beat my behind for that, and I don’t blame her. As an adult, I realize how fu—freaking expensive that shit was to fix. All for cookies. Not really worth it.”
She laughs. “Let’s go, Bernie. You’ll get to see Zep tomorrow after school.”
“I can come over and talk to him?” Her pretty blue eyes widen as she stares at her mother. “I’m not in trouble?”
“No, you’re not in trouble. Just make sure you stay outside.”
Well, I’ll be damned. I think I’m growing on Misty Reynolds. I know she’s sure as hell growing on me.
In fact, she’s starred in a few of my late-night fantasies. One’s Chanel used to be featured in. And I suspect my imagination doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing.
