What's Life Without the Sprinkles - By Misty Simon Page 0,34

a message there that he had totally been deliberately missing? And if there was, what on earth was he going to do about it?

****

The dreaded Sunday had come. It had occurred to Claudia that morning that she should probably prepare Justin for meeting his biological father for the first time. She had avoided the thought for the last several days, hoping she wouldn’t actually have to do anything. But now that the day had arrived, she was going to have to address the subject. Damn.

Because she tried to learn her lesson after Justin’s whining from Friday about her not respecting his privacy in his room, Claudia knocked on his bedroom door. He’d better answer it quick, or his whole bid for privacy was going to go out the window, along with about twenty of his favorite games.

“Coming!” he yelled. Why the child had to do everything at maximum volume was beyond her.

He opened the door without having to yank it through a ton of trash on his floor. This made her absurdly pleased, but most likely today was going to be one of those days where you took what you could get and cherished it like gold, even if it was only a lump of coal.

“Hey, Mom! What’s up?” He was still in his pajamas but looked cheery. Another thing she would gladly take.

“It’s going to be time to get ready soon. Remember, we have that lunch at Aunt May’s house today. I want you in your good clothes, not a holey T-shirt.” Leaning against the doorjamb, she tried to be inconspicuous about her roaming eyes as she took in his relatively clean room. Well, that might be a little too optimistic. How about his not-as-messy room? “Wear the button-down shirt and a clean pair of jeans, at least.”

“Can I wear my Converses?”

Ugh. She really wanted to say no, since the things should have stayed in the trash where she’d put them last week, but was it worth the fight? Probably not. “Fine, but make sure the shirt is tucked in.”

“Okay,” he said as he began closing the door in her face.

She put her palm against the wood, keeping it open. “I think we should talk for a few minutes.”

His smile drooped a little around the corners. “Why?”

“Because I think we should. Now, do you want to do this in your room?” She suppressed a shudder. “Or can you come out into the living room for a sec?”

“I guess I’ll come out to the living room,” he said, grudgingly.

There was nothing like a grudging consent to get a difficult conversation off on the right foot.

Zoe must have been lurking in the kitchen, because she emerged with three cups of hot chocolate and a plate of toast. “I thought we’d get the day started right, since it might not continue to go that way.”

“Not helping,” Claudia said under her breath so only Zoe could hear her.

“But I’m trying. Doesn’t that get me brownie points? Plus, I promised to be on my best behavior today, and hot chocolate with dunking toast will go a long way toward that goal.”

Claudia sighed. Truthfully, she had been hoping to do this without Zoe’s interference. Of course, she could ask her sister to leave, but it wouldn’t accomplish anything. And she’d known there would be more than just herself in charge when she decided to move into this home with her sister instead of striking out on her own with Justin. “Fine, but try to keep your mouth shut.”

“Mum’s the word, dear sister.”

“Yeah, right.”

Justin plunked himself down on the sofa. Claudia chose the chair, and Zoe plopped down on the floor. They all dipped buttered bread into hot chocolate for a few moments before Claudia got the conversation rolling. Perhaps the chocolate would mellow out the conversation. She could always hope.

“So, Justin, Peter is most likely going to be there at Aunt May’s house.”

“Yep.” He popped another soggy piece of bread in his mouth.

“And I just wanted to know if you had any questions or concerns that you wanted me to address before we got there.”

“Nope.” Another piece of bread went in.

“Nothing?” She tried to keep the incredulousness out of her voice, but the glare Zoe shot at her told her she had been wrong.

“No, nothing. Can I go now?” No more toast popping this time, but his mouth was set in a line she knew was seconds away from quivering with near tears.

“I’d really like to talk about this with you, Justin. I can’t imagine