I shut up.
We reached the door and I stopped, seeing my mistake immediately as I should have stopped to the side, not in front, or I should have just quickly opened the damned door myself.
This was so, knowing Mickey would characteristically take charge (I refused to think it was gentlemanly), I wouldn’t feel Mickey’s hard chest and lovely heat against my back as he reached beyond me to open the door.
Furthering my mistake, when the door swung open in front of me, I had to press back into him, something he rudely didn’t move out of my way to allow me room to do.
So when it was open, I made my escape.
I did this with Mickey noting softly, “Nice dress, Amy.”
I whirled on him and hissed quietly, “Don’t be a jerk.”
His eyes went dark. “Jesus, baby, it’s a nice fuckin’ dress. What’s your problem?”
“I’m sorry, you were being nice to me?” I asked sarcastically.
“Yeah, but now I see my mistake so, apologies, won’t happen again,” he answered shortly.
My heart was for some reason hammering in my chest, perhaps because maybe he was being nice and I hadn’t been and I felt stupid and petty.
But like I couldn’t stop it, to save face, I continued being so as I shook my hair, ordering, “See that it doesn’t.”
“Maybe you should date Stone,” he muttered. “Match made in heaven.”
I couldn’t believe he just said that.
“That’s a terrible thing to say,” I snapped.
“Call ’em like I see ’em,” he declared.
That made me even more angry.
Angry enough to lean into him. “It’s you being mean that brings this out in me.”
He bent his neck deep, getting in my face.
“I told you ‘nice dress,’” he clipped. “Because it’s a nice dress. Looks good on you. If that’s mean, you definitely got a screw loose and have no clue how a man should treat you. Fuck, you like nasty, after I saw what your ex did to you, now I’m wondering what it took Infinity to get his tongue in your mouth. What? He tell you you looked like a whore?”
“I’m not discussing Bradley with you,” I retorted coolly.
He leaned back, his eyebrows going up, and asked incredulously, “Bradley?”
“Yes. Bradley,” I bit off.
“Like, he makes you say the whole thing?” he pushed.
“The whole thing what?” I asked.
“Bradley. Not Brad,” he explained impatiently.
“Yes, the whole thing. He prefers Bradley,” I confirmed.
He looked over my head and let out a puff of disgusted air.
“It is a name, Mickey,” I informed him and his eyes came back to me.
“It’s a name for a douche, Amy.”
All right, enough.
“Are we done?” I asked.
“Probably until your phone call, yeah,” he answered.
“Enjoy the rest of your evening with your marvelous children who I have absolutely no clue how they could have come from your loins,” I bid him.
“And you enjoy the rest of yours in your big house all by yourself,” he returned.
“I will,” I gritted.
“I bet,” he retorted, stepped back and shut the door in my face.
“Jerk,” I whispered to his door.
Then I turned on my beautiful high heel and stomped down his walk (I couldn’t go through his yard, my heels would sink in), down his drive and right to my house.
He couldn’t hear me and he wasn’t looking.
I still slammed my front door.
*
“Yeah?” Mickey answered.
Charming.
“It’s Amelia.”
“Know who it is.”
“Dela said the kids can come.”
“I’ll alert the media.”
Jerk!
“Can you drop them off at Dove House at ten?”
“Yep.”
“And pick them up at one?”
“Can do.”
“Excellent.”
“Later.”
“’Bye.”
He hung up.
I glared at my phone.
Then I shoved it in my purse and flounced out of Dove House, the flouncing all for me since no one was in reception so no one could admire my magnificent drama caused by a man named Mickey.
*
“This is gonna be so fun,” Cillian whispered excitedly.
I looked to him standing by me on the walk to Dove House.
I knew no child who thought hanging for three hours at a nursing home would be fun and I wondered, even if he gave no other indications he wasn’t, if Cillian was all there.
“You do what Amy says,” Mickey ordered.
“No probs,” Cillian assured.
“We will, Dad,” Aisling mumbled.
Aisling gave her dad a hug. Cillian and Mickey bumped chests. Cillian ran inside with Aisling trailing and I looked to Mickey.
“One,” he stated, turned on his foot and walked away.
*
The kids were one hundred percent wonderful with the old folks.
So much so it was astonishing.
Cillian was talkative, exuberant, full of energy and had all the time in the world for everybody, including staffers that asked him to help with things.
Aisling was sweet, attentive, helpful and quietly charmed everyone she met.
Mrs. McMurphy called Cillian by his name.
Mr. Dennison transferred his affections to Aisling.