“Don’t,” Flint says, sliding the wine glass back toward me.
It’s not that he’s a health nut. The look he gives me is more. That more saddens me.
“I’m done.”
“You took one sip.”
“I’m done.”
“I paid for it.”
I narrow my eyes at him.
“Your table is ready,” a cheery brunette says, hugging menus to her chest.
Harry hops off his stool and follows the waitress while Flint and I stand toe to toe. His scowl intensifies. I roll my eyes and reach into my purse, pulling out a ten-dollar bill. He stiffens even more as I slide the money into the pocket of his pants.
“Take the wine.”
“I’m. Done.” I turn and follow Harry. “Do you want to sit by me or your dad?” I ask before sliding into the booth.
“You.” He grins.
“Good choice.” I wink and sit next to him as Flint sets the wine glass on the table and removes his suit jacket before sliding in across from us.
He grunts, squinting at me as I cross my legs making sure the toe of my shoe jabs his shin in the process.
“So what’s good here?”
“What is it we get, Dad?”
Flint hides his gaze in the menu. “Pizza with chicken and veggies.”
“Sounds good.” I smile. “Just get a large and we’ll all share it.”
Flint glances up. “It’s gluten-free crust.”
I shrug. “That’s fine.”
“And non-dairy cheese.”
Rolling my lips between my teeth, I nod a few times. “That’s. Fine.”
He sighs or grumbles. “It only comes in one size.”
“We’ll get two. I’m pretty hungry,” Harrison says.
Why does sharing a pizza with me seem to upset him? We order three salads. Harry gets his with no dressing, Flint orders his with white balsamic vinaigrette, and I order the same. This seems to anger him as well.
“Drink your wine.” He nods to my glass after the waitress leaves with our order.
Holy hell … why did I mention the beer? This is spiraling downward out of control.
“I’m good, but thank you.”
Dinner follows the same theme. I don’t drink my wine. That pisses him off. I say I like the dressing. That pisses him off. I like the gluten-free pizza with non-dairy cheese. That really pisses him off. The autistic twelve-year-old is the mature one out of the two boys at the table.
We slide out to leave, and Flint stares at the glass of wine as he slips on his jacket. On a defeated sigh, I grab the glass and chug every single ounce of it. “Happy?” I shoot him a cold look and turn, quickly finding my best smile to give Harry as we leave the restaurant.
“You wanna hear my new song when we get back to my house?” Harry asks as Flint pulls out into traffic.
“We’re dropping Ms. Rodgers off at the office. That’s where her car is. Besides, you have homework to do.”
We’re back to Ms. Rodgers. I stare out my window and shake my head. Unbelievable.
“The science project was my homework. I don’t have anything else to do tonight.”
“Still … it’s not happening tonight.”
Chugging a glass of wine in under ten seconds has made my brain a little too relaxed, blurring my thoughts a bit. “I’m a little dizzy after drinking that wine I was forced to drink. Maybe you should take me home and I’ll take an Uber to get my car tomorrow.”
Flint grumbles something under his breath as my phone rings. I fish it out of my bag and it slips through my hand between the seat and the console.
“Shoot …” It continues to ring as I try to thread my hand between the seats.
“Here.” Harry bends forward and grabs it. “Oh cool. Who’s Alex?” He stares at the screen a few seconds before handing it to me.
My breath catches as the image illuminates.
“That dude was jumping from a plane.”
I nod slowly, slipping the phone back into my purse. Flint gives me a curious look. I glance away.
“Have you gone skydiving?” Harry asks.
I nod.
“Really?”
I nod.
“You ever wonder what would happen if the parachute didn’t release?”
I grunt a little laugh. Harry says absolutely whatever pops into his head.
“There’s a backup.”
“What if it didn’t work? You’d die, right?”
“Harrison …” Flint glances in his rearview mirror.
“That’s the likely scenario,” I say.
“Do you think you’d splatter like a bug or—”
“Harrison,” Flint says with an edge to his voice.
“Jeez, what, Dad?”
I don’t like being the cause of their fights. I also don’t like talking about Alex. It’s still something I can’t find peace with in my life. But I choose to save Harry at the moment. “Alex did all kinds of cool things. Skydiving, scuba diving, and man could he surf. But he loved to journey up mountains more than anything. He was a passionate mountaineer.”
“Like in the snow with ice picks?”
“Yep.”
“Has he climbed Mount Everest?”
“He sure did.”
“I want to do that someday.”
Flint pulls into a spot in front of my apartment building and looks over his shoulder. “You do?”
Harry nods.
“That requires physical activity. You do realize that, right?” Flint says.
“Shut up.” Harry rolls his eyes.
I open my door. “Thanks for dinner.”
“Can I see your rats?”
I look at Flint.
“Another time.”
“You always say that. I told you I don’t have homework.”
I shrug. “It’s fine with me.”
“Thanks.” Harry jumps out.
Mr. Grumbly follows us up to my apartment.
“Cool place.”
I laugh. This kid lives in a truly cool house, yet he finds my two-bedroom apartment “cool.” I want to be twelve again. “Thanks.” I toss my bag on the kitchen counter. “Follow me. We can let them out and feed them while your dad’s skin crawls.”
Flint leans his shoulder against the wall, messing with his phone. “Five minutes, Harrison.”
“In here.” I lead Harry to the bedroom and open the cage. “Come, babies.” I make kissing sounds. “Mozart, come see Harry. You remember Harry don’t you, baby.”
Mozart waddles his chubby little rat ass out of the cage, and Harry picks him up.
“That one is a lot smaller.” He nods to my shy girl staying in the cage as the rest of my musical geniuses make their way to freedom.
“That’s Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta.”
Harry gives me a funny look of confusion as Mozart squirms in his hands, trying to get onto his shoulder.
“Lady Gaga.”
“That’s her real name?”
I nod, nuzzling my nose into Beethoven. “Gaga might not come out to play today. We’ll see. This is Beethoven, and this is Chopin, and this crazy guy here is Bach.”
“I’m going to ask my grandparents for rats this Christmas. My dad would never buy them for me.”