Page 63 of The Manny

He sighed and, taking the hint, moved to the door. “I’ll let Ron know.”

“Thanks.” He left and I scowled at the door. First Mia had said I was a grump and now Brody was implying the same thing? What the hell was going on around here? I didn’t consider myself to be particularly temperamental. Yes, I liked things how I liked them, but who didn’t? I felt oddly disheartened at how I was being perceived. I’d only butted heads with Thomas at first because he was so bossy, right? There was no wayIwas the actual problem.

Or was there?

My stomach churned as I thought back over my arguments with Thomas. I now recognized that, while at first he’d annoyed me, he was only trying to help. Iwasfeeling less agitated these days. I guess if I was honest with myself, I did sometimes get pretty upset when things went wrong. That was only because things could spin out of control so easily if you weren’t careful. I kept a tight rein on things to avoid problems. Did that make me an asshole by default?

Scowling, I picked up the phone and dialed the parts house. My conversation with Brody swirled in my head still, so when they answered, I made a point of sounding calm and reasonable. The guy agreed to send a courier with the right parts immediately, and I hung up.

I glanced at my watch, noticing it was almost 5:00 p.m. Usually, I’d stay and finish up paperwork, but tonight I felt too restless. The thought of going home to Thomas, and even Mia, comforted me. I wasn’t sure why really. Perhaps because I was getting along with them both so well now, and I knew they liked me? God, that sounded so pathetic. Since when did I care if peoplelikedme?

I stood and pulled on my jacket. I’d had enough of this place for one day. I walked out front and told the receptionist to let Ron know the correct parts were coming any minute. Then I headed to my car without saying goodbye to the guys. I still felt bruised from my little talk with Brody. I knew I was acting like a sulky baby, but I didn’t know how to get out of that mood.

When I got home, I parked in the driveway and made my way into the house. The smell of something delicious cooking filled my nostrils, and I was surprised when Mia ran to greet me.

“Uncle Jack, look what I made,” she said, holding up a clay figure.

“Oh, wow.” I smiled, slipping out of my jacket and moving to the coat closet. “That’s great.”

“Do you recognize who it is?” She looked at me expectantly.

Grimacing, I knelt down. To be honest, the figure just looked like a blob of clay with arms and legs. I was leaning toward octopus, but knew better than to say that. I peered at it closely. “Hmmm.”

“I’ll give you a hint.”

Thank god.

“They’re always nice and they give the best hugs.”

I smiled. “Is it Thomas?”

She squealed. “Yes! Yes! It’s Thomas.” She giggled. “Does it look like him?”

Thomas walked up at that very moment. “You’re home early.”

“I am.”

Mia tugged on my sleeve. “Uncle Jack, does it look like Thomas?”

Smirking, I said, “It looks exactly like him. Only even better.”

Chuckling, Thomas said, “You should see the one she made of you. It’s the spitting image of you.”

“I can imagine.”

“It has three arms, but that’s totally accurate, right?” He laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“I told you that wasn’t an arm.” Mia giggled. “It’s a shovel. Cuz he’s always in the garden.”

“Now I need to see this figure of me. I’m intrigued.” I stood, holding Thomas’ gaze. “It smells good in here.”

“I’m making chicken marsala. I’ve never made it before. It might be an epic fail.”

“I doubt it.”

Mia turned to run out of the room. “Be right back,” she called cheerfully. “I’m gonna make a dog.”

The minute she was gone, Thomas moved closer. “I didn’t expect you so soon. Everything okay at work?”

---