Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart, #3)(73)

“Pick your poison,” I said.

“Poison? That sounds like a bad idea. Maybe you’re really the troublemaker.” This from Dillon, except he was grinning up at me with his hand still clinging mine.

Kid razzing me.

My chest tightened, same as my hand did on his. “You have no idea, Lil’ Dill.”

No idea at all.

Wished I could erase it. The bullshit I’d done. The things I’d kept hidden. What still haunted me today.

“Do they have bluuuuberry?” Benjamin tumbled through the question, hobbling on his crutches to the glass, peering down.

I couldn’t do anything but reach out and feather my fingers through his hair that was the same color as mine had been at that age, heart beating overtime at the contact. “Might not be as good as your grandma’s pie, but it looks like they have it.”

“I’ll take bubblegum,” Dillon exclaimed. “Can I have a cone with the chocolate and the sprinkles on it, too?”

Izzy was probably gonna kill me for sugaring them up before I took them to meet her, but I was with Mrs. Lane—if I got the chance to spoil them, you could bet your bottom I was going to do it.

“Sure can. How about you, Big Ben? You want one, too?”

“Cannn I have two scoops?”

I looked at the teenaged girl and gave her our order, paid, and carried our ice cream over to an open table.

They immediately went to town, digging in. I took a bite of my plain vanilla, looking at my son who was lapping at his cone like it was the fountain of life, watching me at the same time, his little brother babbling on, stitching his little spirit to me just as quickly as his brother was.

Impossible but right.

I fought the fear that wanted to climb into the atmosphere, instead smiled and nodded along as Dillon launched into a million questions about what it was like when I was growing up in the olden days.

Apparently the 90s was way back when.

“And my mom was your best friend?” Dillon asked.

“She sure was.”

He scrunched up his nose, wiping some of the ice cream smeared all over his face with the back of his hand. “But she’s a girl.” He said it like it was the weirdest thing.

Funny how I’d once tried to give her the same excuse and she wasn’t having it.

I gave him the same response as she’d given me.

“So? She’s still my best friend.”

“So, you’re friends again?” he pressed.

“I hope so,” I answered, roughness making its way into the words.

“Special friends?” His brow rose in speculation.

“Yeah, special friends,” I admitted carefully.

His brow managed to rise higher. “You mean, the kissin’ kind?”

Shit. Nothing like a kid putting you on the spot.

Rubbing the tension at the back of my neck, I wavered, glancing between the two of them.

Benjamin was studying me with those keen, deep eyes.

Uneasiness twisted through my being, not sure what to say or how Izzy might want me to answer. But the last thing I wanted was to mislead these kids on my intentions.

I nodded slow. “Yeah. The kissing kind. If she wants me to be. Would that be okay with you two?”

There I sat, asking my twelve-year-old son who didn’t know he was my kid and his little brother for permission to kiss their mom.

Just awesome.

“Eww,” Dillon cried, acting like he was gagging.

Benjamin dropped his head in embarrassment, redness blooming on his cheeks.

“What do you think about that, Big Ben?” I prodded.

He lifted his head. “You want to beeee her boyfrrrriend?”

“I do.”

I wanted to be her everything.

Didn’t say it out loud.

Didn’t think anyone was ready for that.

He stared over at me, that fierce, brave little man I was coming to know surging to the surface. “Did you know both our dads didn’t lovvvvve her enough? They lllleft her. She dddoesn’t think I hhheeear her, but ssssometimes she cries at night, and I know whhhhy. Because I maaake it that she has to be allllone.”

Pain slammed me, as intense as the hurt and shame that contorted my son’s expression.

A crushing, devastating blow.

I couldn’t breathe.

“Maybe they were just cowards. Not brave enough to stay,” I forced out, words choppy.

“Are you a cowwward?”

“I don’t want to be. Not anymore.”

It was a confession without divulgence.

“My mmmom is ggggood,” he told me, and there was a warning woven in it.

“And so pretty,” Dillon added, mouth covered in ice cream.

“Your mom is amazing,” I told them, words rough. “She’s perfect to me. She’s always been. And I want her to know that.”

“Okkkay then,” Benjamin said, his nod slow, like he was asking me to agree. Trusting me that I got it.

“Deal! Are we on the same team, now? Mom said we gotta stick together. Be a team because we only got each other.”

Heart in my throat, I nodded at Dillon.

“Would be the best thing in the world for me if I got to be on your team.”

If I got to love you.

Protect you.

Keep you.