“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.