“What look?” I asked, feigning my most sincere smile.
“The look that makes me wonder if I have enough money in the bank to bail you out of jail. What’s going on?” Rachel asked.
There wasn’t any point in trying to avoid her questions. She wouldn’t let it go until I told her everything, so I confessed, “Michael managed to convince the judge that everything that happened with Wyatt the other night was just a misunderstanding.”
“No way! You mean he actually believed that asshole?” Rachel whispered.
“Yeah, he did. And to top it all off, I’m worried that the judge might actually believe that I’ve been manipulating Wyatt by trying to turn him against Michael,” I explained.
“Well, that’s ridiculous. You would never do that. Besides, Wyatt is old enough now to decide that sort of thing for himself,” Rachel snickered.
“I haven’t had the heart to tell Wyatt that he has to go back over there this week. I’d hoped that the visitation would be suspended or something.”
“Michael needs his ass kicked. Plain and simple,” Rachel huffed. She turned to me, with her eyebrow perched high and said, “You know… I know people.”
“No you don’t, and as tempting as that may be, I think I’ll have to pass on taking out a hit on my ex-husband,” I laughed.
“Just know that you have options,” Rachel giggled.
The credits were still rolling when we got up to leave, and Wyatt started to tell Annalise some of the things he’d learned about all the Peanut characters. She quickly became bored with all of his miscellaneous facts and asked to go to the restroom. When she was finished, we all headed out to the parking lot. As soon as I opened the door, Wyatt bolted towards the car. I was about to call out to him, but the words got stuck in my throat when I saw Griffin, the biker from the diner in the parking lot. Wyatt, my normally reserved child, raced over to the burly man on a motorcycle like he was a long lost friend.
The entire scene seemed surreal as I watched them start to banter back and forth like it was something they’d done a hundred times. Wyatt smiled from ear-to-ear while he stood there on his tiptoes talking to his unusual new friend. Griffin glanced over in my direction as he handed Wyatt some kind of black box, and after giving me a brief nod, he started up his engine and pulled out of the parking lot. Wyatt shoved the object in his back pocket and waved as Griffin drove out onto the main road.
Rachel leaned over to me and whispered, “What the hell was that all about?”
“I have no idea,” I confessed. I honestly couldn’t believe what I had just seen. A thousand questions raced through my brain as I looked at my son. His eyes were still focused on the road, watching as his biker friend disappeared into traffic.
“Was that him? The guy from the diner?” Rachel asked.
“Yeah,” I responded.
“You little hooker! You didn’t tell me he was hot,” she snickered.
Ignoring her, I walked over to Wyatt and said, “What did he just give you?”
“I’m not supposed to say, momma. It’s in the vault,” he pouted.
“No, it’s not. Show me,” I demanded.
He reluctantly reached in his back pocket, pulling out a small black phone and handed it over to me. I scrolled through the settings, and I was shocked to see that my number and another number I didn’t recognize had been added to the contacts. I couldn’t decide if I was furious or thankful that Griffin had given Wyatt a phone. I had been considering getting him one myself, but I always ended up talking myself out of the idea, thinking he was too young or Michael might end up taking it from him. I was standing there, staring at the phone screen when it happened. Rage. I couldn’t believe that he, a complete stranger, had the audacity to give my child a phone without my permission. “He gave you a phone! What in the world was he thinking?”
“It’s in the vault, momma,” Wyatt said, reaching out and trying to take the phone from my hand.
“No, Wyatt. You can’t keep this,” I scolded.
“What? Why? He gave it to me,” Wyatt whined. I was getting frustrated, and the parking lot was getting busy with people coming and going from the movie theater. I slipped the phone into my back pocket, without another word, and I headed for the car.
Chapter 6
Stitch
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