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I have to go visit my own parents soon, suddenly missing them more than ever.

“Bellamy?”

“Sorry.” I focus back in on the present. “I call your son Jefferson because it’s his name, a beautiful one. And…because it’s something that’s only mine,ours. The way his eyes light up when I say it doesn’t hurt either.” I can’t believe I tacked on that last part.

“Hmm.” He rubs his jaw. “What else; why do you like him?”

“Mr. Kendrick,” I angle my body toward him. “With all due respect, sir, if I started listing everything about your son that excites, fascinates, lures and endears me to him, we’d be here all day. And while I could sing his praises all day and never run out of words, it’s hot, and these bleachers leave much to be desired in the way of comfort. So please, just ask me what you really want to know.”

“Okay,” he clears his throat and looks me square in the eyes. “Did you knowJeffersoncame from money when you started this thing?”

A snorting laugh escapes on its own. “First of all,Ididn’t start ‘this thing.’ You’ve met your son; you know who started it,relentlessly. Not that I’m complaining. And I’ve been best friends with your daughter for a while now, so yes, I kinda figured. I didn’t meet Jefferson until well into my friendship with Brynn, but of course I knew. I don’t care, though. Money has never,literally, made my world go round. And, you’re not gonna start calling him Jefferson, are you? I told you; that’sourthing.”

“No, I’m not.” A small smile peeks out, then vanishes just as quickly. “And your new apartment, did you try and refuse that too, like the car?” His left brow arches in inquiry.

“Yep.” I bob my head. “Adamantly. Pretty much had no choice though, since he evicted me from the one I was in.”

His laugh is an animated, head-thrown-back, guttural release. “Is that what the lil’ shit told you?” He wipes under his eyes. “He doesn’t have that authority, nor did he have my approval. He was bluffing, Bellamy.”

I pop both shoulders; too late to do anything about it now. “It worked. He’s a damn good bluffer.”

“Gets that from me.” He winks, the irony not lost on me.

“That all you wanted to ask?” I lift a brow of my own; not angry about being investigated on my possible motives, none to hide, but not about to roll-over and pretend it didn’t hurt my feelings just a little either.

“Yes.” He stands, offering me a helpful hand. “Thank you, Bellamy, for indulging me, and for being completely honest.”

“You never have to thank me for being honest, and you’re welcome for the rest.”

We get back in the car, and it’s a long, strained five minutes before he breaks the silence we’ve returned to. “So, Brynn tells me you take a pretty full load at school.”

“I suppose, but I can handle it.”

“And you work?”

“Yes. I waitress part-time at The Pit Stop.”

“When do you find time to have the ‘college experience,’ such as parties?”

He’s slipping, about as subtle as a punch in the face. Must be the heat from our long chat throwing him off his game.

“The reason Brynn and I make such a good pair is because our goals and priorities are aligned. As is our party attendance record, or lack thereof. But you already knew that.” I shoot him a side glance, boasting a proud smile.

“You caught me,” he chuckles. “Did you want me to pull over so you can drive back?”

“No thank you. No sense sticking your finger in the icing if you can’t afford to buy the whole cake.”

“That’s one I’ve never heard before. A Bellamy original?” he asks…as he pulls over to the side of the road and gets out of the car.

He walks to my window and points from me to the driver’s seat with a deliberate stare that eliminates any room for argument.

With a huff, I get out and walk around, plopping down and adjusting the seat and mirrors without a word. I drive in silence until I can’t take it another second. “Yes, it was a Bellamy original, but obviously not a good one if the meaning wasn’t clear.”

“Bellamy, I’m sure you’re aware by now, but let me remind you. I’m married to the wittiest, most dry-humored smart-ass ever born. I know exactly what you meant.”

“Then why am I driving?”

“Because, it’s your car.”

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