Adios Pantalones (Fisher Brothers 3)

I tried not to wince at how soft and sympathetic her voice now sounded. Pity was the last thing I wanted. I didn’t need Sofia feeling sorry for me because of the way she felt. If she didn’t think I was good enough for her, so be it. She was wrong, but that was on her, not me. And it would be her loss.

“Mama?”

Both Sofia and I looked down at the same time to see her son standing nearby, looking between us. Neither of us had seen him coming.

“Who are you?” he asked me, shielding the sun from his blue eyes with his hand.

“Hi. I’m Ryan. I’m a friend of your mom’s.” I gave her a quick glance before I dropped to a crouch so I could be eye level with him. “And you are?”

“I’m Matson Richards.” He shoved his hand toward me and waited for me to shake it.

We shook hands, and I pretended to wince like his grip was too strong. “It’s nice to meet you, Matson Richards. I was actually just leaving.”

“Oh. Do you have to go?” His head cocked to the side, making his brown hair flop over his eyes. He looked up at his mom. “Does he have to go?”

“Sorry, buddy, I have to get to work.”

His face scrunched in confusion. “But it’s Saturday. Grown-ups don’t work on Saturdays.”

A small laugh escaped me. “Some grown-ups do. Otherwise, every place would be closed. Does that make sense?”

He shook his head. “No.”

Shit. How do I explain this?

“Okay, Matson. I’m sure you don’t just sit at home every Saturday, right? What else do you and your mom do on the weekends?”

His face lit up. “Sometimes we go to the movies. I love popcorn. Do you like popcorn?” When I nodded, he said, “Mama likes to go grocery shopping. I don’t like it when she makes me go with her, but she usually buys me a treat, so then it’s okay.” He sucked in a big breath before launching into more. “And she loves Target, so we go there a lot. But I don’t see why she likes it so much. It’s not even fun. Sometimes we go out to eat at my nana’s favorite restaurant. I like it because I get to eat a lot of chips and salsa, and no one tells me to stop.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. This damn kid was adorable. “See? All those things that you do and those places you go to, like the movies, the restaurant and the grocery store.” I made a face that made him giggle. “There are people working there, right?”

“Like the lady that brings us the chips and salsa?”

“Exactly. Is she a grown-up?”

His lips bunched into a pucker as he stared at the sky. “Kind of. She’s not like a grown-up like you and Mama. But she’s not like me either.”

This kid was too smart for his own good.

Before I could finish making my point, he gave me a wise nod. “I get it now, Ryan. Some grown-ups have to work on Saturdays so I can see movies, or Mama can go to Target and buy things we don’t need.”

Sofia let out a laugh. “Hey, I can hear you, you know.”

“It’s true, Mama,” Matson said with a shrug. “You say it all the time.”

“You’re right. I do.” She hugged him, the love she had for her son radiating from her like sunshine.

The boy gave me a hopeful look. “Sorry you have to work. Maybe you can come with me and Mama to get chips sometime.”

Ten minutes ago, I would have jumped at the idea. But I hadn’t forgotten how easily Sofia had dismissed me. How wrong she’d been about me, and how she hadn’t even given me a chance.

“Maybe.” I stood up.

Matson asked his mom if he could keep playing, and ran off once he had her approval.

Watching him go, I said, “He seems like a great kid,” and I meant it.

“He is. The best. You were really great with him.”