Page 4 of Unexpectingly Happily Ever After

“I can’t sell those bottles to you.”

His face is creased into a frown, making him look extremely bad-tempered. But I smile anyway because working retail had taught me it’s always easier to catch flies with honey than vinegar. “Can I ask why not?”

“Minors aren’t allowed to touch the products,” he barks.

“They’re my kids.”

“We were helping Momma carry her wine,” Sophie says helpfully.

“Her prosciutto,” Lucy adds.

“They’re under the legal age, and it’s illegal for them to touch the products,” the man continues as if the kids hadn’t spoken. “I can’t sell you these bottles with them in the store.”

My smile vanishes. “Are you fu–kidding me?”

“No.”

“You want me to take them out of the store and come back to pay for these? They’re six! What am I

supposed to do with them? Put them on a leash in front of the store?”

“Not my problem. Next in line, please.”

“Not your–Do you have kids?”

“None of your business.”

“I bet you don’t because you’re so bad-tempered that no one would want to have sex with you.”

His expression darkens even more.

“Please, leave the store, ma’am.”

“Are you seriously kidding me? You’re really refusing to sell me these because my kids carried them?” My voice rises dangerously, enough that the kids huddle together, watching me with wide eyes.

“I am. And if you don’t leave the premises, I can have you charged.”

I bark with laughter with that. “What’s your name?”

“His tag says Bert, Momma,” Sophie whispers.

“See how helpful my kids are?” I slap my hand on the counter. “I work hard for that and you just ruined it. Oh, I get it, ‘it’s all illegal,’” I mock, waving my hands. “But I promise you that your manager will hear about how much of an asshole you were to me. Come on, kids.” I march away from the cashier, leaving the three bottles on the counter and a lineup of people behind me.

“You called himasshole, Momma,” Ben whispers.

“Unfortunately, I did, Benny, because that’s what he is. Let’s get to soccer.”

Chapter Two

Having a calm and serene mother makes it easy to raise a sweet, docile daughter.

A Young Woman’s Guide to Raising Obedient Children

Dr. Francine Pascal Reid, (1943)

“It’s bullshit. Utter bullshit. Can you believe that guy?” Even an hour later, I’m still shaking my head over the cashier. He refused to serve me–me, who used to work in a wine store and who the Ontario wineries owe a debt of gratitude for how much I drink.

I stand with two other mothers, as far away as we can be and still see the action, which involves one of two of the players running and kicking the ball, while the remainder of the teams chases behind them.

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