Trigger's Light - Carol Dawn Page 0,37
and is teething.
I’m digging through the diaper bag, trying to find the infant pain reliever when the phone rings.
“Hello,” I answer, not bothering to check the ID.
“Hello, Little Bit. Why’s my favorite boy crying?”
“Hey Ted,” I reply distractedly. “He’s teething, and I can’t find the…Oh,” my hand lands on the bottle and I pull it out. “Crap, it’s empty.”
“What is?”
“Brendon’s pain medicine for his mouth. Do you think Parker’s Market is still open?” I ask.
“For another couple of hours,” Ted answers. “But you don’t need to be leaving the house this late at night with a baby. Plus, that man of yours probably has you on lockdown. I’ll run by and grab a couple of bottles and bring them to you.”
“No, that’s okay. We’ll be fine until Mason gets home in thirty minutes,” I reassure. “I’ll text and have him pick some up on his way.”
“Alrighty. Now, the reason I called,” he starts. “I’m thinking about closing the Book Bin indefinitely.”
I freeze in the middle of bouncing Brendon, causing him to whine.
“Sorry, honey,” I mutter and continue bouncing. “What do you mean closing it down indefinitely?” I ask, shocked. “You love that place. I can hardly get you to stay home on your days off.”
“I know, Little Bit,” he sighs. “But I’m getting old, and it’s a pain in my backside trying to keep that place and the furniture shop running. I needed to choose one to give up. Making furniture with my grandson brings more income in. As much as I hate it, The Book Bin has to go.”
“I’ll buy it from you,” I blurt out.
What the heck am I doing? I don’t have that kind of money. However, I can’t just let the bookshop go without a little fight.
“Already taken care of kiddo,” Ted chuckles. “That’s why I was calling. I have to let it go, but I’m letting it go to you. You’re in charge now, Little Bit. Better keep the coffee fresh and hot for my visits.”
“What?” I breathe. “Really? You’re giving it to me?”
“It’s all yours,” he answers. “Keep it closed until that man of yours gets everything under control, though. You hear me?”
“Of course,” I mutter.
“Alrighty. Time for this old coot to get to bed. Call me if you need me to grab that baby some medicine.”
Ted hangs up before I have a chance to reply.
What the heck just happened? I own the Book Bin now?
Wow!
Brendon starts crying, pulling me away from my shock-induced state.
“Crap,” I complain. “I’m a bad parent.”
I scroll down and hit the message icon on Mason’s name.
Me: Hey, can you stop and get some of that infant pain reliever for Brendon? He’s out, and his poor little mouth is hurting.
A few minutes later, my phone rings.
“Hey there,” I say above Brendon’s cry.
“Hey baby, how long has he been crying?” He greets.
“Half an hour or so,” I answer.
“Why didn’t you call me, little one?”
I try saying that I didn’t want to disturb him, but my little guy screams louder.
“I’m on my way,” Mason says in my ear. “Try sticking your knuckle in his mouth, baby. Let him chew on it. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I flop down on the couch and do as Mason suggested. Amazingly, it worked. Poor fellow is still whimpering, but now he’s too busy going to town on my knuckle to cry.
“You’re one strange little dude,” I tell my pink-faced baby. “Your mama would have been so good at this. I’m sorry you got stuck with me, honey.”
We sit there long enough that Brendon eventually dozes off with his jaw still clenched on my finger.
He looks so peaceful that I’m terrified of moving. So, as slowly as I can, I lean back until I’m fully on the couch, tucked in the corner, so I don’t fall, and slip into dreamland with my wonderful nephew.
We were both so exhausted that neither of us noticed when Mason came home and carried us to our beds.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Trigger
I haven’t told Thea what I learned about Marco. Brick thinks it’s a mistake, and he’s probably right. But something else is going on. Mark, the man who attacked Thea, said that the person who paid him had a tattoo on his hand of a snake eating its own tail.
I’ve seen Marco every other week when he comes to visit Brendon. I’ve watched close with every interaction he’s had with my boy. I would have noticed if he had a tattoo on his hand.
Something doesn’t add up. I’m missing something, and