Page 128 of CowSex
I get my first genuine smile since we arrived from Koa, causing involuntary pelvic floor contractions to start.
“Hmmm. MLC, I can’t really do anything with that.”
Koa raises his eyebrows and chin questioningly.
“I like to shorten people’s names according to their initials, Kimmie and Ryan don’t have middle names, but their surname’s O’Donaghue, so they’re Kod and Rod, but I can’t do anything with MLC. What’s yours?”
“Dad and I both have the same, but that’s not—”
“Important,” Koa interrupts his son. “Middle names are not worth worrying about. I don’t know why people bother with them.”
I notice Kai grinning as Koa speaks.
“What?” Kai laughs harder and starts shaking his head. “What is it?” I ask again.
“Kai,” Koa warns.
“It’s Orlando.”
“What is?”
“Our middle names. They are Orlando.”
Hmmm. Different. But again, I like it.
I take a sip of my tea, and then I spray it across the table when I fail to contain the laugh that bursts from me.
“Koc,” I announce in a fit of laughter. “You’re a pair of Kocs.”
“Cock-a-doodle-doo,” Malia crows.
Kai throws his head back and laughs. Koa tears his napkin into tiny pieces while shaking his head at me.
“I’m changing that on my phone right now. You are so going in my contacts as Koc.”
Malia is now standing on the bench seat and attempting a cockerel impersonation with her bent arms and crowing as our food arrives. I catch my breath long enough to spot Danielle approaching our table, Misty hovering in the background. Every ounce of humour is suddenly sucked from the room.
“Seriously?” I look at Koa and ask. “One day. Just one day without this sh—nonsense would make my life happy.”
He looks to see what I’m talking about before he closes his eyes and groans.
“Well, ain’t this cosy? Not sure what happened to my invite, son, but I didn’t get it.”
I twist sideways in my seat away from them and try to distract Malia by getting her to sit down and eat. She doesn’t need to witness Danielle’s poison.
Ruby leaves us without a word. Danielle doesn’t. She folds her arms over her belly and stands there glaring at us.
“Didn’t send you an invite, because I don’t want you here, Mom. I told you last night in my text that until you get yourself sober, I don’t want you in my life.”
“I’ll get sober when I’m good and ready, son. Ain’t you or nobody else gonna tell me when or what I can drink.”
I watch as Martha moves from around the counter and heads our way.
“Well, then, you need to stay away from me until youaregood and ready because I want nothing to do with you until that time. And don’t bother calling or texting me, I’ve blocked your number.”
“Okay, Dani, knock it off. Out, the pair of ya,” Martha orders.
I’ve chopped Malia’s pancake into tiny pieces, and I keep looking at her, rather than getting involved in what’s going on around us.
