“Maybe she can stay with you,” her mother said.
“On a tour bus?” Was her mother insane? She had to realize what went on in those tour bus lounges. “Besides, she has summer school,” Toni said.
“A lot of good an education is going to do her. She’s perpetually five.”
School had done wonders for Birdie—especially her language skills—but this wasn’t really about Birdie. It was about her mother.
“A lot of good an education is going to do
me
as your lifelong housekeeper and nanny.” Toni had never spoken to her mother so brusquely in her life. She stalked off before her obviously stunned mother could close her gaping mouth.
“You are so funny!” Birdie said to Logan as Toni flopped down in the chair next to her. The table was square, which meant she didn’t have to decide if she should sit next to Birdie or Logan—she could sit between them. But that also meant her mother sat across from her, so she’d be forced to look at her while she ate.
“Your glasses,” Mom said. She set the case down next to Toni’s plate.
Toni replaced her glued pair with the ones in the case. These weren’t her favorite frames, but at least they weren’t broken.
“I really wish you would get Lasik,” her mother said. “You have such a pretty face. It’s a shame to cover it behind those glasses. Don’t you think so, Logan?”
Logan jerked slightly. Why had Mom put him on the spot?
“She’s stunning with or without glasses,” Logan said. “But I think she should stick with whatever makes her comfortable.”
Birdie giggled and covered her mouth with her hand, blushing ferociously.
“I think he likes you, Toni,” Birdie said with another bashful giggle.
“Of course I like her,” Logan said.
Why else would he be willing to subject himself to breakfast with her family?
“We’ve become fast friends,” he added.
Toni frowned at the napkin folded on her plate. Fast, maybe, but still just friends. Wonderful.
Their waitress appeared and Mom started her typical order of poached egg, no salt; whole grain toast, no butter; fresh fruit; and sliced tomatoes.
“I want pancakes,” Birdie said.
“You don’t need all that sugar,” Mom said. “You can have oatmeal.”
Birdie scrunched up her nose.
“How about we get the buffet?” Toni suggested, knowing Birdie would rather not eat than have oatmeal. They had fought this battle a thousand times in the past.
“That’s what I’m having,” Logan said.
“Coffee?” their server asked.
“Decaf,” Mom said.
“Can I have some?” Birdie asked.
“No. You can have milk.”
“Chocolate milk?”
“You don’t need—”
“The occasional treat won’t hurt her,” Toni butted in.
“She will have plain, skim milk,” Mom said.
Birdie made a face of disgust. “Yuck.”
“And what will you have to drink?” the waitress asked Logan with a flirty smile.
“I think I’m going to need a fifth of whiskey.”
“Jack Daniels okay?” the waitress asked, writing on her order pad.
Logan glanced sidelong at Toni. She knew he was joking—trying to reduce the tension at the table—but apparently no one else realized it.
“Change that to orange juice,” he said.
“With vodka?” The waitress glanced up from her notepad.
“Just orange juice.”
“It’s okay. Butch said I should get you anything you want, sir. I won’t judge.” She smiled at him.
“Musicians don’t really drink hard liquor with their breakfast,” he said.
She opened her mouth to argue, but Logan interrupted.
“
I
don’t drink hard liquor with my breakfast. I was joking about the whiskey.”
The waitress shrugged and turned to go, but Logan caught her sleeve. “You didn’t ask Toni what she’s having.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I must have overlooked you.”
Story of her life.
“Chai latte,” Toni said.
“Got it. Just help yourselves to the buffet.” She touched Mom’s shoulder. “And I’ll have your special order out as soon as possible, ma’am.”
The three of them left Mom sitting at the table conducting business on her smart phone.
“So the editor chick didn’t come after all?” Logan asked in a low voice while Birdie tried to add individual grapes to her plate with a spoon. “We could have used last night for fun instead of work.”
“She’s here; I’m sure I’ll get to deal with her after breakfast.” Scowling, Toni heaped several more sausage links onto her plate. “Do you know why my mother came?”
“To bring your glasses?”
“No, she’s trying to guilt me into coming home early. She doesn’t want to deal with Birdie on her own,” Toni hissed. It felt good to confide these things to a live person. Perhaps she didn’t need her journal anymore.
Logan turned his head to scratch his beard scruff on his shoulder so he could peek at Mom. “She seems perfectly in control.”
“Exactly. Dad used to even her out and make her relax, but since he died, she’s become so engrossed with her work, she won’t even take the time to raise her own daughter.”
“Sounds like she’s still mourning.”
His simple statement punched Toni in the gut and stole her breath. Maybe it hadn’t been ambition that had driven her mom to choose work over family. Maybe it had been grief.
“Do you think I should go home?” she asked.
“No,” he said, placing a biscuit on his plate with a pair of tongs and then adding one to Toni’s plate as well. “And I don’t say that for selfish reasons. Though I would if it came to that. I think she needs to face the reality of raising a daughter without your father instead of dumping the responsibility on you.”
“But I feel so guilty.”
“That’s because you’re a sweetheart.”
“Is Toni
your
sweetheart?” Birdie asked, her three hard-won grapes rolling around on her plate. Toni could have helped her fill her plate, but she wouldn’t unless asked. A lot of everyday tasks were challenging for Birdie, but she accepted her difficulties and took them in stride. She’d rather struggle a little than depend on others to do everything for her. It had taken Toni a while to figure out why Birdie would get so mad when Toni took over every task in order to complete them more efficiently. Birdie just wanted to do things herself no matter how time consuming or frustrating.
“Yep,” Logan said. “Toni is everyone’s sweetheart.”
Birdie scowled. “Are you a slut, Toni?”
Toni gaped at her. “Where did you hear that word?”
“At school. Jill has a lot of sweethearts. Ashley said it’s because she’s a slut.”
Ah, the joys of an all-inclusive classroom.
“That’s not a nice word to call someone,” Toni said. “I don’t want you to use it again.”
Birdie’s near-constant smile faded. “It’s a bad word?”
“A very bad word.”
“Toni only has one sweetheart,” Logan said.
“Is it Spiderman?”
Toni snorted. Where had she come up with that? “No, not Spiderman.”
“Better not be.” Logan scowled. “Slinging his sticky webs all over the city. It’s not decent, I say.”
Birdie giggled and tilted her head, a bashful blush on her round cheeks. “I joking. I know Logan is Toni’s sweetheart.”
Toni was glad someone was sure about that.
After they’d filled their plates, they returned to the table.
“You’re not really going to eat all of that, are you?” Mom asked, shaking her head at Toni’s overflowing plate.
Toni was admittedly a stress eater and yes, she was going to eat every bite of her high-fat, high-starch, high-protein breakfast.
“I’m hungry,” Toni said.
Mom eyed Toni’s waistline, which had never been as trim as her own, but Toni wasn’t yet ripping the seams out of her skirt. She speared one of her sausage links and bit into it angrily. Stress eating at its finest.
“I really don’t think you need that much food,” Mom persisted.
“Are you insinuating that she’s fat?” Logan asked.
“She will be if she eats like that.”
“I’m fat,” Birdie said, hanging her head.
“You’re beautiful,” Logan said, “just like your big sister.” He tugged on one of Birdie’s pigtails, and she grinned.
If the man didn’t stop making Birdie light up like warm summer sunshine, Toni was going to tackle-hug him out of his chair right in front of everyone.
Logan tilted his head toward their mother. “And it’s plain to see where both of you got your good looks.”
Most mothers would have taken that as a compliment, but not her mom. Oh no. Comparing her to her frumpy older daughter and her special needs younger daughter was obviously an insult. Toni blew out a breath and dug into her biscuits and gravy. At this rate, she’d be heading to the buffet for seconds.
“After breakfast, Susan will be meeting us in the conference room down the hall,” Mom said. “I invited her to breakfast, but she said she wasn’t hungry.”
Toni tried not to frown at the news. But her presentation was ready, so hopefully this impromptu and completely ridiculous meeting would be over quickly. If all Mom had wanted was to make her feel guilty over Birdie, why had she insisted on bringing Susan along? Toni was pretty sure that Susan was her plan B, in case her guilt trip of a plan A failed to entice Toni to go home.
“What are you doing this afternoon?” Logan asked.
Toni glanced at him. Weren’t they going to spend the afternoon in bed? She was ready for another marathon session of lessons. They scarcely had time for sex on concert days.
“We need to be at the airport around five,” Mom said. “We have an evening flight.”
They weren’t even staying one night? Toni was starting think her Mom had completely lost it.
“Toni and I are heading to the track in a couple hours. If you want to come—”
“What track?” Toni asked, picturing herself running along behind him, panting from exertion. Running was not her idea of a good time.
“Motocross. They have a fantastic track set up just outside the city. Every time the band tours here, I burn energy on a bike.”
She wasn’t sure if she’d enjoy watching him zoom around in a circle on a dirt bike, but she did want to spend time with him and participate in his interests as much as possible.
“I want to go!” Birdie said. “I can ride a bike.”
“He means a motorcycle,” Toni said.
“He said bike.”
“Sorry, I should have clarified,” Logan said. He pulled out his phone and started flipping through his photos. “I’ll show you what I mean.”
He passed his phone to Toni, and she was stunned by how hot he looked in a form-fitting racing suit with knee and elbow pads. In the photo, Logan was leaning against a red mud-flecked dirt bike, holding his helmet against his hip. Did the man always look devastatingly gorgeous? She was going with a definite yes on that.
“Let me see!” Birdie yelled, startling Toni out of her musing.
“Bernadette, keep your voice down at the table,” Mom scolded.
Toni handed Logan’s phone to Birdie, who sat on her opposite side. “Oh, that’s a big bike,” she whispered. She touched the phone’s screen and scowled. “Who is this girl?” she asked.
Logan’s eyes widened and he jumped up so fast, his thighs hit the underside of the table, rattling dishes. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” he said as he grabbed the phone out of Birdie’s hand.
“She had no shirt on,” Birdie informed the table, looking with wide eyes from Toni to her mother. “I saw her boobies!”
Mom laughed, for whatever reason finding
this
—of all things—hilarious.
“That was taken months ago,” Logan said, inching down in his seat as if trying to slide under the table.
“Why are you looking at her boobies for, Logan?” Birdie asked.
“I’m not.”
His face was beet red, and Toni enjoyed watching him squirm. She was sure he’d seen thousands of boobies in his life, and she doubted he’d regretted viewing a single one until called on it by a nine-year-old with Down’s syndrome.
“Did you look at Toni’s boobies too? She has great big ones!”
Logan glanced at Toni out the corner of his eye before snorting on a laugh. “I didn’t notice.”
“Bernadette, this is not an appropriate conversation to have at the breakfast table,” Mom said, though she was still grinning ear to ear.
Birdie ducked her head in shame. “Sorry.”
Toni touched the back of Birdie’s head. “Eat your breakfast.”
They somehow got through the meal with their relationship intact. Logan had to listen to a long-winded, one-sided conversation about raising chickens, but at least Birdie was no longer asking questions about boobies. Thank God.
After breakfast, Mom pointed out the conference room where they would meet shortly. Toni and Logan headed upstairs to collect the messenger bag where she’d stashed her laptop.
“Sorry you had to deal with that,” Toni said to him.
“I didn’t mind,” he assured her, drawing her against him for a much too short kiss. “It’s kind of nice to recognize the dysfunction in other people’s families.”
Her mouth dropped open in mock outrage, and she smacked his ass. “Are you insulting my family?”
“Birdie is a sweetheart.”
“And now you’re trying to change the subject?”
“Yep.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I need to go hunt down Butch and have him arrange a morning at the track. Will you be okay alone with your mother and the dragon lady?”
His concern touched her far more than it should. “I’ll be fine.”
“After this day is over, I think a full body massage will be in order.”
She sighed in bliss, already imagining the feel of his hands on her tense muscles. “That sounds wonderful.”
“I can’t wait. I have to warn you, though—I’ll probably fall asleep.”
She lifted a brow at him. “How can you fall asleep while giving a massage?”
“Giving one? I’ll be on the receiving end.”
He danced sideways as she reached out to swat his butt again.
“Tease!” she accused.
“Is that a challenge?”
She wasn’t sure how she felt about his raised eyebrows and crooked grin. What did he mean by
challenge
? How could being teased by him be a challenge? She didn’t have time to ponder or question; she had a presentation to give.