Mike didn’t let go of her eyes.
“You want that, first you show me you give a shit about our children. At the same time you lay off about Dusty and I don’t mean just to me. I hear that you’re sayin’ shit to our kids or any-fucking-body about my woman, we got problems. You manage to do all that then we’ll talk about improving our relationship. Until then, Audrey, we’re back to where we were a couple of weeks ago.”
She held his eyes and nodded.
Mike finished with, “Reesee’s English teacher spoke to me. She told me Reesee’s exceptionally gifted. The teacher’s name is Raquel Layne. You give a shit, you might wanna contact her and see what that’s about. I’ll be sitting down with Rocky and Reesee to discuss this and how we’re gonna open up avenues for Reesee to explore it. You want on board with that, as her mother, obviously, you’re welcome. But it is likely going to entail Reesee either going to a private school for gifted students or camps, both of which are gonna cost some cake. You want a part of that you’re welcome but that means you layin’ off the shoes. Considering what I read of Reesee’s work, Rocky’s not blowin’ sunshine so if you wanna give your daughter the attention and future she deserves, I’d suggest starting to lay off the shoes now.”
Her lips were parted in surprise but Mike didn’t give a fuck about that either. He was done.
And he communicated this by muttering, “Drive safe,” then, without delay, he walked away.
*
Furious, Mike grabbed his jacket, shrugged it on and prowled down the hall.
No, Rees and Fin were on the sectional watching TV. He’d had pizza with his kids then Rees got a text from Fin and asked if he could come over. Mike had said yes. Fin came, Mike gave him his usual warning with his eyes then he went up to his office to read through Darrin Holliday’s will.
Now he had to get to the farm, talk to Dusty and Dean, get Debbie’s home phone number and ream her fucking ass.
Which meant either kicking Fin out or leaving his daughter with her new boyfriend with only her nearly seventeen year old brother as chaperone.
He wanted to kick Fin out. It was an instinct he had just because he was a Dad.
But as he stalked into his living room, he knew he wasn’t going to do it. And he wasn’t going to do it because he loved his daughter, it was early, just going on eight o’clock and she liked being with her boyfriend. And further Mike wasn’t going to do this because her boyfriend just lost his Dad and Mike knew Fin got something good out of being with his girl. The alternative was being at home in a house hazed with grief and a Mom who was trying his shit with her weakness.
Fuck.
“I’m goin’ to the farm,” he announced, all three kids looked to him, surprise on their faces but Mike only looked to No. “Everyone, including you, stays in this room or the kitchen. Am I clear?”
No’s face got knowing and a teasing light flared in his eyes. Mike was clear. And, likely, Rees and/or Fin were going to catch some of No’s shit.
This was good. No handing out shit would mean they’d have to deal with it, react to it and would have less time to find ways to get into what Mike would consider trouble.
“Yeah, Dad,” No muttered.
Mike cut his gaze through Fin and Rees who were sitting close but not cuddling on the couch.
He had no clue if cuddling would commence once he left considering No was there. He doubted it considering No would jump on that faster than you could blink. He also would likely never know. Which was good.
Without another word, he walked toward the backdoor but was stopped when he heard Fin call, “Mr. Haines?”
He looked back and gave Fin his eyes. Fin’s face was blank but his eyes were intense.
“Everything okay at the farm?” Fin asked and Mike held his eyes.
He was worried, good at hiding it but still concerned.
Jesus, half the time, if Mike didn’t know, he’d think that kid was thirty-five not seventeen.
“Yeah, Fin. All good. Brief you when I get back,” Mike answered.
Fin jerked up his chin.
Totally thirty-five. Jesus.
Mike didn’t know what to do with that either.
He went out the door, down his deck, through the yard and out the back gate. On the short walk through the chill air, he tried to pull his shit together.