and he still hadn’t told his family about Parker. Standing in the middle of Sam’s club probably wasn’t the best way to share his joyous news, so he ignored the call and returned the phone to his ear.
“Listen, Veronica, I have to go.”
“Was that you mother on the other line? I hope she has better luck talking some God damn sense into you.”
“What do you mean?” Brody stood motionless in the middle of the aisle, his heart leaping out of his chest. “For Christ ’s sake, Veronica, did you tell my mother about Parker?”
“No, not really,” she replied indignantly. “I told her that some fucking bitch was claiming that you were the father of her bastard child.”
“I swear to God, if you call her that one more time, I’ll…”
“You’ll do what, Brody?” she goaded him.
In a moment of clarity, Brody’s parental instincts kicked in and he could understand why Avery had asked him to not swear around Parker. Not only was the way Veronica cursing very unbecoming, but it was something that no child should have to listen to, heaven forbid repeat it. Rather than creating a scene, he figured it best to end things now before their conversation erupted into an all out battle. “We’re done here, Veronica. This conversation is over.”
Why in the hell had he told her about Parker in the first place? He thought that Veronica finding out straight from the horse’s mouth would be better than her finding out from some second hand piece of gossip, but boy was he wrong. The woman was hell-bent on ruining his life, and all he’d managed to do by telling her was make matters worse. This was not the way he wanted his family to find out that he had a son. Brody slipped his iPhone back into his jean’s pocket. Still distracted by his phone call with Veronica, and paying little attention to what he was doing, he attempted to place the action figure back on the display, accidentally knocking over the entire display in the process. A tsk’ing sound at the end of the aisle drew his attention and he looked up to see the mother with the toddler staring at him. He shrugged apologetically and silently scolded himself as the woman turned on her heel and stormed off.
“Do you need a hand with that?” an unfamiliar voice behind him drawled.
Brody turned in time to see a woman bend down and pick up the boxes of action figures that were scattered across the aisle.
“I’ll get those,” he offered, but the woman had already cleaned up his mess.
“No need, I’ve got them.”
When the last of the toys had been returned to their proper place on the shelf, five slender, well manicured fingers arched towards him in the expression of a handshake.
“Delilah, and you are?”
“Brody.” He politely shook the woman’s hand, but quickly relinquished his grip. She was a vixen if ever there was one, and he was her prey.
“You’re new at this, aren’t you?”
“Umm, yeah,” Brody mumbled. “How can you tell?”
“You look lost.” Delilah the Vixen flattened her skirt with the palms of her hands and leaned seductively against the handle of the shopping cart. “Do you need a hand finding something?”
“Would you mind?”
“No, not at all, how old is your…?”
“My son, and he’s turning four.”
Damn, he’s taken. Delilah relaxed her stance, just a bit. Having a kid didn’t necessarily mean that he was taken, but the odds weren’t in her favor. She picked up one of the action figures and carried on indifferently. “If he’s only four, you definitely don’t want one of these. See here?”
Brody looked to where the woman tapped the box with a bright orange finger nail.
“It’s for ages five and up. You want something that doesn’t have small pieces he can choke on or get lodged God knows where.”
Brody felt even more out of place and out of his league than before. What if he’d brought Parker something that he could hurt himself with? He’d never forgive himself if that happened. Looking
“Listen, Veronica, I have to go.”
“Was that you mother on the other line? I hope she has better luck talking some God damn sense into you.”
“What do you mean?” Brody stood motionless in the middle of the aisle, his heart leaping out of his chest. “For Christ ’s sake, Veronica, did you tell my mother about Parker?”
“No, not really,” she replied indignantly. “I told her that some fucking bitch was claiming that you were the father of her bastard child.”
“I swear to God, if you call her that one more time, I’ll…”
“You’ll do what, Brody?” she goaded him.
In a moment of clarity, Brody’s parental instincts kicked in and he could understand why Avery had asked him to not swear around Parker. Not only was the way Veronica cursing very unbecoming, but it was something that no child should have to listen to, heaven forbid repeat it. Rather than creating a scene, he figured it best to end things now before their conversation erupted into an all out battle. “We’re done here, Veronica. This conversation is over.”
Why in the hell had he told her about Parker in the first place? He thought that Veronica finding out straight from the horse’s mouth would be better than her finding out from some second hand piece of gossip, but boy was he wrong. The woman was hell-bent on ruining his life, and all he’d managed to do by telling her was make matters worse. This was not the way he wanted his family to find out that he had a son. Brody slipped his iPhone back into his jean’s pocket. Still distracted by his phone call with Veronica, and paying little attention to what he was doing, he attempted to place the action figure back on the display, accidentally knocking over the entire display in the process. A tsk’ing sound at the end of the aisle drew his attention and he looked up to see the mother with the toddler staring at him. He shrugged apologetically and silently scolded himself as the woman turned on her heel and stormed off.
“Do you need a hand with that?” an unfamiliar voice behind him drawled.
Brody turned in time to see a woman bend down and pick up the boxes of action figures that were scattered across the aisle.
“I’ll get those,” he offered, but the woman had already cleaned up his mess.
“No need, I’ve got them.”
When the last of the toys had been returned to their proper place on the shelf, five slender, well manicured fingers arched towards him in the expression of a handshake.
“Delilah, and you are?”
“Brody.” He politely shook the woman’s hand, but quickly relinquished his grip. She was a vixen if ever there was one, and he was her prey.
“You’re new at this, aren’t you?”
“Umm, yeah,” Brody mumbled. “How can you tell?”
“You look lost.” Delilah the Vixen flattened her skirt with the palms of her hands and leaned seductively against the handle of the shopping cart. “Do you need a hand finding something?”
“Would you mind?”
“No, not at all, how old is your…?”
“My son, and he’s turning four.”
Damn, he’s taken. Delilah relaxed her stance, just a bit. Having a kid didn’t necessarily mean that he was taken, but the odds weren’t in her favor. She picked up one of the action figures and carried on indifferently. “If he’s only four, you definitely don’t want one of these. See here?”
Brody looked to where the woman tapped the box with a bright orange finger nail.
“It’s for ages five and up. You want something that doesn’t have small pieces he can choke on or get lodged God knows where.”
Brody felt even more out of place and out of his league than before. What if he’d brought Parker something that he could hurt himself with? He’d never forgive himself if that happened. Looking
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