Page 76 of Thanking Her Brother's Best Friends

Parents came, dressed as if they were headed to a fancy Sunday brunch. By contrast, I wore a simple suit, with my hair tied into a sleek bun. Attention followed me around, anyway.

"There they are," Biscuit said passively—not unlike spotting a friend and waving them over for a comforting cup of tea.

But Biscuit was at his professional best when he was passive because internally, it meant he was seconds away from combusting—if the situation demanded it.

Sure enough, Ollie came toward me, followed closely by two burly boys who took one look at my face and turned to run.

I had a hunch Biscuit wouldn't need to work too hard.

"Don't do that," I called out to them, keeping my tone pleasant although it was the last thing I wanted to do. "Stay a minute. We'd love to chat."

I held out a box of hot, fudgy cookies I'd baked this morning. Biscuit stood beside Ollie, positioned like a living, breathing mountain.

"Now, I hear that you've been having some trouble adjusting to Ollie, boys?" I smiled and opened the box. "Go on, take one each."

The boys gaped at me like a couple of trolls who'd spent too many hours in the sun. "Take them," I said again. This time, my voice was sharper than a fresh knife. "Please."

They got the message and quickly took two cookies in their hands. "Thanks, Mrs. Baker."

I bared my teeth in my best impression of a mother jaguar. "Good. Now, take a bite."

"Can we just go?" the heavier one asked.

"Do what she says, or there will be more trouble." Biscuit spoke as if he was saying the most ordinary thing. "We don't like trouble."

He gulped and his friend nudged him. They took two quick bites.

"Nice?"

They nodded their heads like Russian dolls. "Very nice, thank you."

"Now, Biscuit here loves these cookies. Almost as much as he loves Oliver. You know what Biscuit hates?"

My voice was dangerously low. But I knew they heard every word.

"He hates bullies who think they can get away with doing whatever they want because of their size. You think that's reasonable, don't you?" I asked sweetly.

The boys shuffled uncomfortably. They looked like they needed a long, long hour in the crapper. "We do, Mrs. Baker."

"Will there be any more trouble?"

"No, none at all."

"Very good," I exclaimed and brandished the box at them. "You may go. Please give the cookies to your parents, compliments of Selene Baker!"

I watched them scamper down the lane as fast as they could go. The burlier one stumbled and hit the curb, and his bully buddy did not stop to help.

"Hey, wait up, don't leave me with that crazy lady," he hollered at him.

I stifled a laugh as his companion paid no heed to his cries for help. He eventually got on his feet and ran as fast as he could.

"Thanks, Mom."

I leaned down in front of my son and took his face in my hands. "We're a team, Ollie. Don't you ever forget it."

As I stood back up, a figure stepped out of his car and headed toward us. By this time, I'd seen Dave enough times to know he was in town and hell-bent on making my life go to shit.

But it wouldneverfeel comfortable.

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