Page 157 of Deliverance

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He winces.

She rests both hands on her hips and continues to stare. “Oh, really? You don’t even make an attempt to sound convincing anymore, babe.”

“Wendy, I don’t think this is the time or the place.”

“When and where then?” She scoffs. “When your teenage son gets someone pregnant?”

Spinning on her heels, Wendy stomps back to the terrace and keeps walking toward the pool house. Cruz jumps to his feet and runs after her, almost tripping over a coffee table. His kids bounce off the couch to follow their parents, but Justice intercepts the youngest one.

“I think Mom and Dad need a minute alone, champ,” he says.

I handle the older boy in turn, who seems to be totally unfazed by the fact that it was his porn comment that made his folks go nuts.

“Why don’t you show me what this game is all about.” I grab the controller Cruz tossed on the floor during his chase and shove it at Rocky. My eyes divert to the pool house to check on the fighting couple.

“Do you watch porn too?” the kid asks, and I nearly choke on air.

Justice comes to the rescue. “I wouldn't bring that up in public, if you were, bud.”

“Why not?” Rocky frowns, messing with the controller.

“Because then girls definitely will not want to go out with you.”

“Ewww.” Jazzy cringes. Unlike his sexually curious older brother, he’s apparently not interested in anything teenagers are interested in.

Another year or two and those hormones will manifest so fast, poor kid won’t know what hit him.

Outside, Wendy’s voice grows louder.

Justice rushes over to the French doors to slide them shut and musters up a smile. “Okay, everyone!” He claps. “Let’s go see what Hazel’s making for dinner, huh?”

“I want to see Mom and Dad fight,” Rocky declares.

“I think you’ve done enough already, big guy,” I say. “How about we leave them alone for a bit?”

“You wanna bet on who wins?” The kid smirks and draws a crumpled twenty-dollar bill from the front pocket of his jeans.

“You’re lucky you’re not my son,” I growl and gesture toward the living room. “Out. Now.”

Little demons.

Two hours later, when we’re all gathered in the dining room, Wendy and Cruz are talking again, but the rift in their domestic life is now obvious. I can’t help but wonder if this happens to all couples who decide to have kids.

My gaze shifts from the food in front of me to Justice, reclining in his chair at the head of the table with a happy grin on his face and his soon-to-be two-year-old in his lap, who finally woke up from her nap upstairs and is currently tossing a chunk of baked potato around on her daddy’s plate. To my left, Aiden is plucking out pieces of broccoli from his own dish, the tip of his tongue pinched between his little teeth as if that’s going to help his concentration.

“What are you doing, buddy?” Justice asks, motioning at his son.

“Don’t like the green stuff,” he says, a serious expression on his face implies it’s a life and death matter.

Everything is life and death when you’re a kid though. Even vegetables.

“You know.” Drew’s voice takes on a secretive tone. “They’re really good for you. They’ll help you grow big.”

“Mmmm.” Hazel shakes her head. “That doesn’t work.”

“They taste like paper.” Aiden scrunches up his nose and continues to separate broccoli from the rest of the food heaping his massive plate.

“Baba!” Faith waves her fists at her brother, her gummy smile finally making an appearance. “Baba!”

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