rapped on the front door. Before she could respond, Eddie Peterson rushed into the house. This was the way Eddie always entered, which Veronica didn’t mind because Eddie was family, and since Carsten died, he had graduated to “godsend.”
Today was no different. He was filling in for Career Day. She still couldn’t believe the school scheduled Career Day (3rd grade) and Heritage Paper (6th grade) on the same day. Veronica complained about it to Principal Sweetney, but all she got in return was a lecture that focused on the many angry phone calls she’d received after Jamie pulled his latest stunt.
Jamie ran to give his uncle a hug. Eddie was Carsten’s half brother, and both were raised by their grandmother, Ellen, after their mother died.
Eddie featured a bald shave on top—he claimed it was his preferred style and he could grow it back whenever he wanted, but Veronica doubted it—and a gut that was synonymous with his retro “bringing back the doughnuts” approach to law enforcement. He was NYPD, normally undercover in plain clothes, but for Career Day he was decked out in the full uniform.
He kissed Veronica on the cheek and scraped her with his stubble. “I like your shirt,” he said, referring to her fraying concert shirt that had survived since her teenage years. Back when her life goal was to follow the band across the country. She still wasn’t sure when exactly she became a thirty-seven-year-old paranoid mother.
“Thanks—I didn’t know you were a Def Leppard fan.”
“I’m not. I like the way it hugs your boobs,” he said with a laugh.
Jamie joined the laughter, which received a glare from Veronica, instantly quieting him.
“It’s surprising that a charmer like yourself has never been married,” Veronica said as she made a return trip to the kitchen.
Eddie followed her, making a pit-stop at the refrigerator and removed a slice of last night’s dinner.
“Isn’t it a little early for pizza?” she asked as she poured a round of orange juice.
“I just finished my shift. My hours are a little off.”
“You’re a little off.”
Jamie laughed, which reminded her. She subtly nudged Eddie to have the talk she’d wanted him to have with her son. She did her best, but sometimes a boy needed a strong male figure to deliver the news. The topic was the reason she had to meet with his principal this morning.
Jamie could always sense a potential ambush, and was already plotting his retreat. “Can I go see the police car, Uncle Eddie?”
“Not until you tell me what happened in school.”
Jamie shrugged. “It was just a misunderstanding.”
“I don’t know who you think you’re messing with, kid. I get gang members to flip on drug kingpins, so I ain’t afraid of no suburban mama’s boy.”
Jamie smiled like it was a game. Before Veronica had kids she was convinced it was all about “nurture”—children were a blank canvas to be molded. But the more Maggie and Jamie had begun to resemble her and Carsten, specifically the traits that she’d gone out of her way to shield them from, she was starting to re-think it.
“Since you seem to have a bad case of amnesia,” Eddie continued with the interrogation, “let me review the facts of the case. You, Jamie Peterson, nephew of esteemed NYPD Lieutenant Edward Peterson, assaulted your classmate, Fife Logan, by putting ex-lax in his food and making him crap all over himself in front of the class.”
Jamie looked astonished by the accusation. He stood with palms up and an open-mouthed look of disbelief.
“What do you have to say for yourself, young man?”
“I say it was your idea, Uncle Eddie, so I don’t know why I’m the one who’s getting in trouble.”
Eddie was immediately hit with Veronica’s glare, and he tried to plead his case, “C’mon—I didn’t think the kid would really do it. And besides, this Fife Logan character was picking on him, and if you don’t stand up to a bully, you’ll end up getting bullied for the rest of your life.”
She wasn’t impressed.
“And what kind of name is Fife Logan? His parents must have known he’d get his ass kicked when they gave him that name.”
“If you wanna keep digging yourself a deeper hole, I know where to get a shovel.”
Eddie owned the same ability to veer from oncoming trouble as Jamie did, and turned the tables. “So I heard someone had a hot date last night.”
She squirmed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”