“Yeah. I’m fine,” he finally says, clearing his throat and glancing down at his small bowl of ice cream.
“Vanilla?” I ask with a grin.
“Old habits die hard,” he replies quietly, digging his spoon in. Luke seems to have taken after his father in the ice cream department, but I can see some chunks of chocolate something or other in his scoops.
“Want some?” he asks, when he notices me inspecting his bowl.
“No thank you, sweetheart,” I reply before I finally put a piece of pie into my mouth. I sigh happily and lean back. “This is so good. Here; try it,” I say cutting off another small piece and holding it out to my son.
He smiles, leans forward, and takes the piece I offered him, then nods in appreciation. “Yeah, maybe we should order another slice to take home.”
“Sounds good to me!” I reply happily. I cut another piece of my pie when I suddenly realize that Trenton is staring at me again.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him again.
He clears his throat and pushes his ice cream around with his spoon, stealing another glance at Luke, before looking up at me with that damn serious expression he had when I sat down.
“How are you doing these days, Taylee? Really doing?” he asks quietly.
“Fine,” I reply evenly. “Why? Have you been told something different?” I ask, turning in my seat to stare at my son who’s pushing his ice cream around in his bowl.
Just like his dad.
“What do you do for a living?” Trenton asks, leaning forward. “Like, how do you afford your bills and the place you guys live in?”
“I don’t have a job. I get assistance,” I reply, my eyes still on my son who’s doing his damnedest not to meet my stern gaze. “And because I’m able to stay home, I keep Luke home too. I teach him from a curriculum certified by the school board. Did he tell you that?”
“He mentioned it,” Trenton replies evenly with a nod. “What else do the two of you do?”
“That’s none of your goddamn business,” I hiss at him, slamming my hand on the table. The people at the booths and tables around us turn to look at the three of us and Luke chuckles.
“Leave her alone, Trenton,” he says quietly.
"What lies have you been telling him?” I shout at him angrily, giving him a shove.
“I haven’t told him anything!” Luke says, holding up his hands to defend himself.
“Taylee, keep your hands off that boy or so help me God, you’ll never see him again,” Trenton warns, leaning across the table and pulling me away from Luke.
“Is everything okay here?”
I sit back down and glance up to see our server along with some middle-aged man who’s wearing a “manager” tag pinned to his shirt, watching us carefully.
“My fault. Totally. We’re okay,” Luke offers with a smile.
“Alright then,” she says with a curious nod, before they turn and walk away. I can see where they’ve positioned themselves at the end of the bar so they can keep watch over us to make sure that I don’t raise a hand to my son again and it’s making me angry.
“Well this was a great fucking idea,” I say sarcastically, shoving my plate away.
“You’re pouting,” Luke quietly points out.
“I think you’ve apparently said enough tonight, don’t you?” I shoot back at him, in a low tone.
Trenton clears his throat loudly again before he takes out his wallet and drops a hundred-dollar bill on the table.
“I’ll see you guys around. I should probably go before my wife starts wondering where I am, anyway. Remember what I told you, son,” he says, glancing at Luke who nods nervously.
And just like that, Trenton Miller walks out of my life again when I need him the most.