Round Four
BILLY
“I can already hear you nagging at me.” I come to a stop on lush green grass while, twenty feet away, Jeremy carefully kicks his soccer ball around.
Setting a bright display of daisies in the small vase built into the front of Aria’s headstone, I lower into a crouch and chuckle.
“I know what you’re gonna say, so don’t even bother. ”
You were mean, Billy!
“You’ll say I should’ve explained rather than lost my cool. That my tendency to assume the worst about people sucks.”
She was worried about our son, Billy!
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I snap a blade of grass and pinch it between my fingers. “He dropped the hammer on my dick, babe. Nearly made me cry, and you know me. I can’t cry in front of him. So I sent him outside to play before that dumb dishwasher pushed me over the edge.”
“Hey, Dad! Look!”
I glance over my shoulder and watch him kick the ball two feet into the sky, then try to follow it with a second kick… but miss.
“Hang on!” He tries again. Up. Down. His foot swings up for a second, but he misses. “I can do five, Dad! Swear. Just keep watching.”
“Feels kinda unfair that you left me here all alone to deal with dishwashers and hammer incidents.” I lower to my ass, Aria’s headstone on my left, and my son, still stuck on kick number one, on my right.
“You didn’t change a single diaper. And you haven’t stayed awake all damn night to talk him through a storm.
Those things terrify the shit out of him. ”
Cos I wasn’t there to do it, dummy. I was here.
“Laziness,” I smirk, shaking my head from side to side. “You could’ve just said no to diaper duty. Especially since you’d just finished baking the baby. You didn’t have to actually die to avoid spending literally another second with me. I would’ve understood.”
“Hang on, Dad! I almost got it.”
One.
One.
One.
“So… Magnolia Sava moved in next door.” I drop my blade of grass and select another. “What kinda cruel karma bullshit is that, huh? Bet you and Patrice are up there giggling about it all.”
One.
One.
One.
“I’ll get it in a sec, Dad! Are you still watching?” He looks across to make sure I am. “Keep watching!”
“Joke’s on you, because her opinion of me, my bad manners, and my crap parenting are pretty much set, especially after I beaned Jeremy in the face with a baseball last night.
He was supposed to be paying attention, but Maggie pulled up in her car and distracted him.
Next thing we knew, my pitch landed square in his face and bloodied his nose.
Now Maggie’s ready to have CPS take our baby away. ”
“Dad! I did it! I did two. Did you see?”
Shit. Fuck. No. “Yeah, buddy! I totally saw it.” I stretch my smile as wide as it goes. “Well done. Can you do it again?”
“Yeah!” One. One. One. One. Zero. “Keep watching!”
“I rarely begrudge you this ‘me time’ you’ve committed to, but I could do with a little extra sleep, and maybe a new identity, since my neighbor probably already has me on a child abuse watchlist somewhere.”
One. One. One. Two.
“Dad!”
“Yeah!” I thrust my fist into the air. “I saw, buddy! And you did it in front of Mom, too!”
He rolls his eyes, casting a fast glance across her headstone.
Because that’s all it is to him. A headstone.
A name carved into rock. An idea of a person, but not someone he actually knows or cares about.
How could he? He’s eight years old, and she died about forty-five minutes after he entered this world.
“You’re so weird,” he snickers. “She didn’t even see, silly. She can’t.”
“Sure she can. Angels have eyes and get to visit their families all the time.”
“Uh-huh,” he drawls. “I’m gonna go for three, okay? You ready?”
“Yep.” I bring my knees up and rest my elbows on top.
“Suppose I should drop a letter into Maggie’s mailbox or something.
Tell her I’m sorry for being a dick. Maybe put your obituary in the envelope too, since it’s clear she has no damn clue you ditched already.
I don’t really wanna have an entire conversation about it, and she’s probably one of those super-weepy weird chicks inclined to hug after discussing this sort of stuff.
” I toss my blade of grass and select another.
“Definitely don’t want a pity hug. She’s gonna hear about it at some point, and I know she’s gonna feel really bad once she does. ”
One. One. One. One.
“She was so fucking sweet back in school,” I sigh. “Nicest girl I’d ever met, so I know guilt will smack her hard once she realizes you didn’t even have the good fortune of cleaning me out in a divorce.”
One. One. One. Two. Zero.
“Ramone thinks she’s hot, and he’s not even shy about it. He’d lick her if she stood still long enough.”
And we both know that bothers you.
Scowling, I bring my eyes back to her name.
Her date of birth. Her picture, framed and frozen in time.
Forever twenty-five: young, beautiful, and eternally excited for the baby in her belly to arrive.
“Don’t act like you know me anymore. It’s been eight years, babe.
If he wants to look, I’m totally cool with it, and if she returns his affections, then that’s between the two of ‘em. So long as they keep it decent in public, it’s got nothing to do with me. ”
“Dad!” Jeremy snatches up his ball and skitters my way. “Dad, she’s here!”
“She’s…” Rattled, I swing around in search of…
who? Maggie? Why the hell would I automatically assume she is Maggie?
Instead, I lock eyes with an older woman over fifty yards away.
Her gray hair freshly released from rollers, her dress as flowery as the flowers I picked up from the grocery store an hour ago, and her eyes…
fuck. They stare into my soul. “Barbara’s here.
” Hurrying, I press a kiss to the tips of my fingers, then slap the digits onto Aria’s framed photo.
“We’re outta here. Happy birthday, babe. ”
Jeremy sets his ball on the grass, kisses his fingers, and presses them to the picture.
“Happy birthday, Mom. I hope the other angels in heaven made you a cake today. And if they did, I hope it’s a chocolate cake, with sprinkles and whipped cream and maybe some candy on top, too.
And ice cream. And did you used to like popping candy?
I like popping candy, but I’ve never had it on a cake before, or even with ice cream.
Don’t you think that would be pretty fun, though? ”
Yeah, baby. That sounds a-freakin’-mazing.
“I think you just described her favorite cake ever.” I scoop up his ball, allow one last glance over Aria’s smiling photograph, then I grab Jeremy’s hand and lead him away from the mom he always deserved.
We were robbed. And though I get why I was slapped by the hands of fate, I can’t for the life of me understand why he was.
He was forty-five-minutes old, for Christ’s sake. What could he have possibly done to deserve that?
“You wanna head to the store after this? We could buy cake mix and popping candy. Ice cream too, if you want.”
“Really?” He folds his head back and licks his lips. Slurping sound and all. “You wanna bake a birthday cake for Mom?”
“Sure. It’s her day, ain’t it?”
“Do you think we should invite Maggie over for cake?”
My heart fucking skips and sizzles. It jumps and aches and, for just a second in time, I’m pretty sure it stops.
But then I take a deep breath, restart that shit, and unlock my car.
“I’m not sure about that, buddy. She’s probably busy.
” And I have no intention of ever asking her to join us for dead-wife birthday cake. “Maybe next year.”
Not.
“Detective Caster!” Barbara calls out from all the way across the cemetery, waving with her hand high above her head. “Hi, Detective Caster!”
“Quick.” I open the back door and herd my son inside. “We do not wanna start a conversation with her, or we’ll never have time for cake.”
He fusses with his seatbelt. Tugging on the cord… Twisting it… Shoving me toward the edge of insanity as Barbara gallops this way. He stabs the seatbelt into the buckle… and misses.
“Dude!” I snag the silver end and clip him in.
“Detective Caster!” Barbara’s entire body rolls with her hurried steps. “It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?”
Not happening, woman! No fuckin’ chance.
“Let’s go.” I swing Jeremy’s door shut and paste on a standard, friendly smile saved for strangers in the street. I wave for Barbara and whip my door open. “Good day to you, Barbara.”
“Wait, I wanted to talk to you about—”
“Yes, I had a great day. Thank you! I hope yours is great, too.”
I slide into my seat and eye my giggling son through the rearview mirror. “Zip it, big ears.”
“You’re so silly.” He pastes on the patented Caster fake-ass smile and waves to the woman still rushing this way. “Did you know Mrs. Sava was Maggie’s grandma? She told me so when I was visiting.”
Visiting. Trespassing. Causing trouble.
“Mmhm. I knew that.”
“Her grandma died. And my mom died.” He waves, very queen-of-England style, and grins. “I just thought maybe she’d like birthday cake if we were already making some.”
Her dad died too, buddy. At the same age you are now.
Still don’t think inviting her over for cake is a sensible choice, though.
“Maybe another time. Now we’ve gotta lay rubber before Barb flips herself onto the hood and tries to stop us.”
“Put the sirens on,” he cackles. “Pretend we’re chasing bad guys again.”