“I don’t want to get away from her,” Toni interrupted. “I just want you to take responsibility for her for a change.”
“Toni, can I have pancakes?” Birdie yelled.
“Go sit at the table, Buttercup,” Toni called, not wanting her to overhear the conversation she was having with their mother. “Logan will help you pick out something to drink.”
Toni was sorry to put Logan on the spot like that, but he didn’t seem to mind as he ushered Birdie to the table and then, with a napkin over his forearm, bowed to her like a garcon offering champagne.
“Maybe she can stay with you,” her mother said.
“On a tour bus?” Was her mother insane? She had to realize what went on in those tour bus lounges. “Besides, she has summer school,” Toni said.
“A lot of good an education is going to do her. She’s perpetually five.”
School had done wonders for Birdie—especially her language skills—but this wasn’t really about Birdie. It was about her mother.
“A lot of good an education is going to do me as your lifelong housekeeper and nanny.” Toni had never spoken to her mother so brusquely in her life. She stalked off before her obviously stunned mother could close her gaping mouth.
“You are so funny!” Birdie said to Logan as Toni flopped down in the chair next to her. The table was square, which meant she didn’t have to decide if she should sit next to Birdie or Logan—she could sit between them. But that also meant her mother sat across from her, so she’d be forced to look at her while she ate.
“Your glasses,” Mom said. She set the case down next to Toni’s plate.
Toni replaced her glued pair with the ones in the case. These weren’t her favorite frames, but at least they weren’t broken.
“I really wish you would get Lasik,” her mother said. “You have such a pretty face. It’s a shame to cover it behind those glasses. Don’t you think so, Logan?”
Logan jerked slightly. Why had Mom put him on the spot?
“She’s stunning with or without glasses,” Logan said. “But I think she should stick with whatever makes her comfortable.”
Birdie giggled and covered her mouth with her hand, blushing ferociously.
“I think he likes you, Toni,” Birdie said with another bashful giggle.
“Of course I like her,” Logan said.
Why else would he be willing to subject himself to breakfast with her family?
“We’ve become fast friends,” he added.
Toni frowned at the napkin folded on her plate. Fast, maybe, but still just friends. Wonderful.
Their waitress appeared and Mom started her typical order of poached egg, no salt; whole grain toast, no butter; fresh fruit; and sliced tomatoes.
“I want pancakes,” Birdie said.
“You don’t need all that sugar,” Mom said. “You can have oatmeal.”
Birdie scrunched up her nose.
“How about we get the buffet?” Toni suggested, knowing Birdie would rather not eat than have oatmeal. They had fought this battle a thousand times in the past.
“That’s what I’m having,” Logan said.
“Coffee?” their server asked.
“Decaf,” Mom said.
“Can I have some?” Birdie asked.
“No. You can have milk.”
“Chocolate milk?”
“You don’t need—”
“The occasional treat won’t hurt her,” Toni butted in.
“She will have plain, skim milk,” Mom said.
Birdie made a face of disgust. “Yuck.”
“And what will you have to drink?” the waitress asked Logan with a flirty smile.
“I think I’m going to need a fifth of whiskey.”
“Jack Daniels okay?” the waitress asked, writing on her order pad.
Logan glanced sidelong at Toni. She knew he was joking—trying to reduce the tension at the table—but apparently no one else realized it.
“Change that to orange juice,” he said.
“With vodka?” The waitress glanced up from her notepad.
“Just orange juice.”
“It’s okay. Butch said I should get you anything you want, sir. I won’t judge.” She smiled at him.
“Musicians don’t really drink hard liquor with their breakfast,” he said.
She opened her mouth to argue, but Logan interrupted.
“I don’t drink hard liquor with my breakfast. I was joking about the whiskey.”
The waitress shrugged and turned to go, but Logan caught her sleeve. “You didn’t ask Toni what she’s having.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I must have overlooked you.”
Story of her life.
“Chai latte,” Toni said.
“Got it. Just help yourselves to the buffet.” She touched Mom’s shoulder. “And I’ll have your special order out as soon as possible, ma’am.”
The three of them left Mom sitting at the table conducting business on her smart phone.
“So the editor chick didn’t come after all?” Logan asked in a low voice while Birdie tried to add individual grapes to her plate with a spoon. “We could have used last night