Page 22 of For Fox Sake

I glance down. “Those would be hot dogs.” Archer gave them to me last Christmas. We have an ongoing debate because he is under the delusion that a hot dog meets the definition of a sandwich. He’s a complete savage.

“I like hot dogs. And pizza. And chocolate cake.”

“Me too.”

“Why are you in your nighttime clothes?”

I shrug. “It’s early. I’m lazy.” I need more coffee. I pick up the mug and drink the rest of the brew.

“I don’t have hot dog PJs, but I have rainbow ones. My momma doesn’t wear pajamas.”

I choke.

Holy shit.

Don’t think about Ryan naked, don’t think about Ryan naked, don’t think about Ryan naked.

“She always sleeps in T-shirts and sweats.”

I mop up my chin with my shirt and clear my throat a few times before asking the question burning the back of my throat. “So, uh, what happened to your daddy?”

She shrugs. “Not sure. Momma says she’s my mom and my daddy, and I have Grandma and Bernie who said I have an aunt mommy which is way better than having even three daddies because men are always the problem and not the solution.”

From all my interactions with Bernie at the hospital this week, that sounds exactly like something she would say.

“That’s a fairly accurate assessment,” I agree.

She nods solemnly.

Did she say “aunt mommy”? What does that mean?

Before I can ask any more probing questions to clarify, she sits up straighter, waving her little hand back and forth quickly. “Momma! I’m over here!”

Ryan is frowning at us from her front porch, hands on her hips. She’s wearing cutoff shorts and an oversized white T-shirt with a giant red heart on the front.

Her face dark, she strides across the street.

The little voice beside me yanks my gaze from Ryan’s rapid approach. “Are you coming to my party tomorrow?”

“Erm, I don’t think so. I didn’t get an invitation.”

“Momma!” she calls out. “You have to bring an invitation to my party!”

“What’s the party for?” I ask.

“It’s my birthday.”

“Happy birthday.”

She wrinkles her nose. “It’s not my birthday yet, but we had to have my party tomorrow.”

“I would like to come, but we have to make sure it’s okay with your mom first.”

Ryan reaches the porch, her eyes flicking from me to her daughter. “Ari, you shouldn’t be bothering Jake.”

My heart drops down into my stomach.

This is the first time I’ve heard the little girl’s name.

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