Page 82 of Badd Baby

"Thanks, Elias. I appreciate you."

He winked at me. "Don't you forget it, sweetie."

I put up the chairs and left through the back, heading home with my head swirling.

The house was silent as I let myself in through the garage—not unusual, these days. Mom and Dad go to bed early, Delia and Emerson have both moved out, and Dane has early classes at the community college, so most nights I'm the only one up when I get back from closing shifts.

I grabbed some chips from the pantry and sat at the island in the kitchen, eating chips and salsa and sipping a beer, considering Elias's advice about Rune.

"Chips and salsa at three in the morning?" a voice said, startling me from my thoughts.

"Mom! Jesus, you scared the shit out of me. What're you doing up? Did I wake you?"

She was standing in the hallway at the entrance to the kitchen, wearing one of Dad's button-downs, her hair frizzy and held back by a pink silk sleep mask, legs bare, eyes squinting sleepily. "Nah. A mama knows when her kids need her."

"I'm good," I lied.

She barked a laugh. "Okay, sure. Pull the other one, Dunc, it's got bells on."

"I don't know what the hell that means, Mom."

“It means I don’t believe you.” She rubbed at her eyes as she shuffled into the kitchen. "When was the last time you had real food? As in, a decent meal?"

"Mom, I'm fine. You don't need to cook for me." She just gave me the Mom-stare until I groaned. "It's been a while. I've been living at work, lately."

She leaned over the island and cupped my cheeks, rubbing her thumbs under my eyes. "And not sleeping, either, I see." She tapped my nose. "Talk to Mommy."

"Only if you never refer to yourself in the third person as Mommy ever again."

She laughed. "No promises, but I'll try. Now, spill the tea, bubbie."

"I'm sure someone has given you the tea about that whole…wedding business that happened a month or so ago?"

She nodded, pouring a can of tomato soup into a pot and heating a frying pan. "Yeah, your Uncle Brock said he flew you and some girl you met and her friends to Anchorage. Apparently you were so upset when he picked you up that you didn't say two words to him the whole way home."

I groaned. "I don't think I ever said thank you to him. Guess I owe him an apology and a thank you."

"No, you didn't, and yes, you do." She slathered two slices of bread with butter, added sliced cheese, and set the sandwich into the pan. "He's redoing their deck this weekend. A good way to thank him would be to show up and give him a hand."

"I will."

"So. The girl?"

"It honestly doesn't matter, Mom," I said. "And not just because I don't want to talk about it."

"But you're gonna!" Mom said, singing the words far too cheerfully for a woman woken up at three a.m. to counsel her grown son.

I sighed. "The Sparks Notes version is that she showed up wanting a date for a wedding. Her friends were having a destination wedding here in Ketchikan and planned to party at the Kitty after. Her ex, who cheated on her, was going to be there."

Mom nodded knowingly. "And she wanted my handsome boy to make her ex jealous."

"Mom," I groaned. "Don't be cringe."

“Too late for that, kiddo. One of a parent's primary jobs when their kids get older is to embarrass them by being as cringey as possible."

"Well then, you're killing it," I said.

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Watch it, bub. I'm making your food."