Page 15 of Guitars and Cages
“Well, the last time you burned them,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll do better this time.”
“Okay,” he said with that sigh that told me he didn’t feel as if he had a choice in the matter.
I made quick work of fixing the faucet and turning the water back on so I could wash the dishes I’d need. Twenty minutes later I’d managed bacon that wasn’t burnt to hell and eggs that weren’t scorched or runny. Thank God the hash browns were easily heated in the toaster and popped up golden and flaky and brown as long as you didn’t under-heat them.
“So where we going?” he asked when he was done.
“Demolition derby,” I announced.
“Oh, awesome!” he declared, face lighting up with a brilliant smile I’d not seen from him before.
“I take it you approve.”
“Oh yeah! Dad used to take me. I love watching the cars crashing into one another.”
“Who doesn’t?”
“Mom.”
“Good point,” I said with a laugh.
“Dad wanted to build a derby car and I was gonna help him, but Mom threatened to divide him, so he said we couldn’t build one.”
“Divide him?” I asked, scratching my head.
“Yeah, like my friend Greg’s parents. They got divided and now Greg says his dad lives in his RV. That’s cool to be able to drive your house wherever you wanna go, don’t ya think?”
“You mean divorced,” I said. “Your mom threatened to divorce him if he built a derby car.”
Rory nodded solemnly.
“Yeah. Mom said divorce is where you divide up everything and someone moves away. Seems like it would be easier to call it divided,” he said.
I had to hand it to the kid; he had a point. That kind of sucked, though. I mean, hell, I could think of a million and one worse things Chase could have gotten himself into that would have been worth a divorce. A derby car should have been the least of Kimber’s worries.
“So when do we go?” he asked excitedly.
Seeing as how he’d be bouncing off the walls until it was time to go, I figured this might be a great time to grab that softball and Frisbee I’d found and take him to the park until it was almost time for the derby. Hell, if we got dollar-menu dinners we could avoid coming back to the apartment until after the derby was done.
“Soon as you clean up and find dry things,” I told him, turning my attention to the dishes I’d let pile up, figuring to get as many as I could out of the way while I waited for him. He must have kicked it into high gear, because I’d hardly made a dent in that dish pile before he came bounding out ready to go.
Rory’s eyes lit up when he saw the softball, and it was all I could do to stop him from trying to run to the park. We passed the dude and more boxes on the steps on the way down, and I looked away, refusing to acknowledge the “Hello” he tossed my way.
At the park, Rory and I threw the ball around down by the pond for a while, until a goose decided to join in and took offense when I wouldn’t let him have the ball. Little shit took after me with wings beating, feathers littering the grass in his wake while Rory laughed his ass off. Good thing the kid didn’t have a camera or I’d have found myself going viral or something.
“You should give him the ball,” Rory called out as I ran past.
“No!” I yelled back.
“He prolly thinks you stole one of his eggs.”
“Well then he’s blind as well as annoying!” I hollered as I ran. Would this goddamned bird ever get tired?
“I don’t think he liked that,” Rory called out as the goose began honking loudly at me.
“Mommy, why is that goose chasing that man?” an additional voice chimed in.
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