“My dad told me–he and Mom aren’t divorced! Mom is still Dad’s wife! She’s still my mom!”
Irwin clung to Briony, glaring at James with fierce defiance. “Mom raised me all by herself, and she loves me! You’re just passing through! You won’t get to act all high and mighty for long!”
James stared at him, speechless.
Like father, like son, he thought bitterly. The stubbornness, the way they twisted things until everyone hated them–irritating in exactly the same way.
Exasperated, James raked a hand through his hair and turned to Briony. “So what now?”
“I’ll take him over,” Briony replied, reaching for Irwin’s hand.
But just as she turned, Rosita had already slipped on her sunglasses, grabbed her purse, and strode briskly toward the door, moving so quickly it was clear she was desperate not to be stopped.
Briony paused, watching Rosita’s retreating figure, and couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose in annoyance.
“See?” James snapped, pointing at Rosita’s back. “That’s the wonderful ‘Mom Rosita‘ you keep bragging about! Yet she can’t even bring herself to admit you’re her son in public!”
Irwin could only stare, stunned, at Rosita’s shrinking silhouette.
Outside, a nanny car pulled up for Rosita. She climbed in without a backward glance. The van moved off into the night, taking her with it–without so much as a look over her shoulder.
Irwin’s tear–streaked face was now etched with confusion as he clung to Briony’s jacket. “Some mother you’ve got,” James said, ruffling Irwin’s hair with a smirk. “Bet you’re thrilled.” That finally broke the dam. Irwin let out a wail and burst into loud, messy sobs.
Instantly, heads turned their way, some with annoyance, others with open irritation.
Rosita was gone, and Irwin had been left behind like forgotten luggage.
With Irwin refusing to accept anyone but Briony as his mom, the restaurant manager had little choice but to look to her for help.
Briony sighed, resigned, and led Irwin away.
At dinner, Irwin sat in front of his kid–sized steak, eyes flicking up to Briony.
“Mom, I can’t cut my steak. Can you help me?”
Briony looked at him calmly. “You’re five now. Big kids should learn to cut their own steak.”
Irwin’s lips quivered. He dropped his head and muttered, “But Mom Rosita always helps me…”
Halfway through, he remembered how Rosita had just left him and, suddenly, his nose stung and fresh tears welled up.
But this time, he didn’t throw a tantrum. He just sniffled quietly, his small shoulders shaking as he tried to stifle
his sobs.
Across the table, James watched, torn between irritation and helplessness. “Sheesh. Are you a boy or not? All you do is cry for your mom. How embarrassing is that?”
Even as he grumbled, James pulled Irwin’s plate over, quickly cut up the steak, and slid it back.
“There, it’s done. Now eat up! Once you’re finished, I’ll do my good deed for the day and drive you home to your mom.”
1/2
Chapter 122
Irwin wiped his face with his sleeve and shot James a sideways glance, sizing him up.
James rolled his eyes. “What are you looking at? Eat your steak.”
Irwin mumbled an “okay” and turned back to Briony.
But Briony focused on her own meal, not sparing him a single glance.
Irwin’s lips trembled again, but he understood now–Briony wouldn’t help him, and James wouldn’t let her. Besides, his stomach was rumbling. So, without another word, he quietly ate his steak.
It took him nearly half an hour to finish.
When they finally left the restaurant, it was already eight–thirty.
James went to get the car. Briony and Irwin stood outside, waiting.
Irwin reached for Briony’s hand, looked up at her with a beaming smile, and said, “Mom, that steak was really tasty. Next time, can we come back with Dad too?”
Briony glanced down at their joined hands, then looked at Irwin with a calm, unreadable expression.
