Page 91 of Deserter

“How much has this kid had to drink, am I right?” Molly asked with a laugh, earning her a stern glare from Wolverine and Father Payne in response.

I recited the Apostles’ Creed and Our Father on autopilot with Celia’s palm crushed against mine, wondering why it had taken someone else telling me to see it myself.

I’d run from the damn thing most of my life, but I didn’t want to run from her. Celia nodded along to the priest while a content smile played on her lips and I knew that I never wanted to lose her.

There was no one else for me.

She was it.

Proving that there would always be bitter with the sweet, I was flooded with thoughts of Mikey and the life I’d saddled him with by being too goddamned stubborn.

I loved my boy.

Maybe if I’d known then that I was capable of loving someone outside of myself, things would’ve been different. He could’ve lived with us, surrounded by people who cared about him.

He would’ve been here with us, racing his Matchbox cars along the sides of the baptismal font while watching his sister get christened.

As it was, I’d kept my word to Celia and stayed away until she could be with me. Newborns required a lot of time and attention though, meaning I hadn’t seen him in almost seven weeks.

I’d talk to her about visiting him soon.

I didn’t want him thinking that I’d forgotten.

Father Payne began pouring the baptismal water over Kate’s head in the sign of the cross. “Mary Katherine Quinn, I baptize thee, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.”

The old wooden door at the back of the parish creaked open and I immediately reached toward my hip for my gun before remembering that I’d left it back in the Suburban as well.

Wolverine kept one hand on Kate and the other at his back before giving me a small nod. The person who’d just come in was either incredibly late or stupid. They took their sweet ass time making their way down the aisle to us, which only increased my suspicions that they weren’t here to wish us well.

Celia’s mouth fell open in shock when the woman came into view and she tightened her fingertips against my knuckles. “Mama?” She whispered.

Norma nodded to us both before taking her place next to Richard. Father Payne continued, but my gaze kept wandering back to her.

Why was she here?

Why now?

She’d missed all of Celia’s pregnancy, our marriage—even Kate’s birth. If she’d had a sudden attack of conscience, then there was a time and place for it.

Today was supposed to be a day of celebration, but I had a feeling that the sudden reappearance of Celia’s mother was going to suck every bit of joy from the occasion.

I didn’t give a fuck if she wanted to make amends, but today was meant to be about my daughter.

* * *

“Thank you again for agreeing to come over for lunch,” Richard said, before stabbing another forkful of fried chicken.

I rested my arm against the back of the dining room chair. “I didn’t.”

Celia squeezed my thigh under the table in a warning. “Thank you for inviting us, Daddy.”

“Now, don’t be shy. I’ve got more mashed potatoes in the kitchen,” Norma stated proudly before sitting down across from us.

It was like the fuckingTwilight Zonearound here. After the ceremony, our friends had drifted out of the stone church, but Norma and Richard had stayed behind to ask us to Sunday dinner.

As if that was something we did every week.

I’d opened my mouth, ready to politely order them to fuck off, when Celia accepted. Mother and daughter embraced with tears while I worked to gather my bearings and determine what the fuck had just happened.

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