Something to Talk About (Plum Orchard #2)

So Jax didn’t acknowledge the woman who’d given birth to Maizy? It was almost as if Maizy were hatched. Like she’d cropped up out of the ground after a seed was planted. No wonder he’d been so angry about her picture.

Why? And how did Maizy feel about that? She was at the age when asking questions was second only to breathing. And what had happened to her mother? Maybe she’d left them? That made Em’s chest hurt. Never. Not as long as she had life in her would she leave the boys. Or let Clifton take them.

After getting caught looking Jax up on Google, she’d closed the computer and refused to pry further. He was keeping Reece close to his chest for a reason—one he didn’t want her to know because it was personal and they had Nothing Personal stamped on their relationship.

Yet, it hurt.

But you have no right to hurt. We’ve gone over this. You have no claims to Jax other than the right to say you made him your boy toy.

Gareth tightened his hold on her arm, letting his head graze her shoulder. “I’m glad I have you for my mommy. I don’t want to be like Maizy.”

Em’s heart shifted in her chest. “You do know daddies can be good mommies, too, right? I think Jax is a pretty good daddy.” A pretty good everything. Especially good at not texting her when she was desperate to hear from him.

“Nuh-uh. He’s nowhere near as good as you. He makes dee-sgusting fish sticks.”

But amazing conversation... Em wrinkled her nose and giggled with him. “How do you know?”

“Maizy said so.”

“You and Maizy are becoming real friends, huh?”

“She’s funny.”

Clifton Junior stomping down the stairs interrupted their conversation. When the light from the stairway hit his face, Em’s eyes flew open. “Clifton! What happened to your face?”

“Nothing,” he replied, ducking his head and heading for the kitchen.

Em set Gareth aside and ran after him, grabbing him by the arm to spin him around. “Oh, honey! How did this happen?” How had she missed a lump the size of Ukraine on his forehead? His hat. He’d worn his ballcap all through dinner and right up until he’d gone to take a shower.

“Get off! It’s no big deal.” He pulled away from her, hard enough to make tears sting her eyes.

“Clifton, this is a big deal. What happened? You have to tell me so I can decide whether we need to see a doctor.”

“It’s just a bump. No big deal.”

Gareth wrapped his arms around her thigh. “Jared Carpenter beated him up today. After school. Because Clifton called him a bad word after he called Daddy a girl.”

Clifton whipped around, his face red, his eyes bulging at Gareth. “Shut up, Gareth! I told you not to tell anyone!”

Em pushed Gareth behind her. “Do not speak to your brother like that, Clifton. I won’t have it. He’s only telling me to protect you. Now tell me what happened. This instant!”

“Or what?” His eyes grew round with defiance, his small body rigid with more anger than she’d ever witnessed from him.

“Or I’m going to take away all of your privileges. TV, Xbox, all of it, and we’re going straight to the school tomorrow to have a chat with Principal Crawford—that’s what!”

“Good. Then I’ll be a snitch, too!”

Em softened. She remembered this rock and a hard place well. If you tattled on the person who’d picked on you, you were labeled a snitch. If you didn’t, you were subject to more torture. She wouldn’t have this for her boys. “Clifton, I know how hard this has been. I know what it feels like to be teased and picked on. I want to help if you’ll just let me. Please, let me help you.”

Violence was in the mix now. It was one thing to call names, but it was quite another to use your fists. This would end. She’d see to it.

“Just leave me alone! This is all your fault anyway!” he screamed, making Gareth cling to her leg and cry. “If you were a good wife, Daddy wouldn’t have left to live with Gina! I heard Grandma Clora say it!”

The wind soared right out of Em’s lungs and left her with a stinging pain, so sharp, so real, it was like someone had jammed a flaming knife into her back.

Clifton raced up the stairs, and she let him. She was too hot with anger—too incensed with her mother to speak to him.

Gareth tugged on her skirt with a sob. Em scooped him up in her arms and rocked him. “I hate Clifton!”

Tears stung the corner of her eyes. “Never, ever say that, Gareth. Not ever. Clifton’s having a bad time of it right now, but he loves you. He’s saying things out of anger.”

“I shouldn’t have telled you what happened.”

Em sat him on her hip, thumbing away his tears. “Yes. Yes, you should have, Gareth. You were right to tell Mommy. No one is ever to lay their hands on either of you, understand? You must always tell an adult.”

He snuggled down on her shoulder and closed his eyes, his sobs easing to soft hiccups then to a light snore.