“Oh, yeah!”

Mia’s laugh breaks up her next words to me. “All right. We’ll see ya in a little bit.”

“Yeah, see ya.”

I disconnect the call and toss my phone next to my truck keys.

A distraction. One in the form of an amusing five year old and one of my best friends. This is good. This is really fucking good.

I PARK NEXT TO MIA’S red Jeep outside of Sal’s, grunting when I see Tessa’s Rav4 a few spots down.

Shit. I should’ve known she’d be here too.

Not that I don’t love Tessa, but I know exactly what topic her conversation is going to steer toward, and I’d rather avoid it. But I can’t. Because Nolan’s smiling face spots me through the restaurant window a second after I shift my truck into reverse to get the hell out of here.

Yes, I was going to bail. I would’ve found a way to make it up to him. He’s not the hardest kid to please.

As soon as I step inside the small, family owned pizza joint, Nolan dives out of the booth they are all sitting at and runs at me, his bright yellow hard hat wobbling on his head.

The strangest feeling washing over me, riddling me with guilt for almost leaving.

“Uncle Weed! Look at my new hat!”

I set it straight on his head, tilting it back ever so slightly to see his eyes. I smile down at him. “Looks good on you, little man. Are you wearing that all the time?”

He nods quickly, his one hand clamping down on the hat to steady it. “Do you weawr one too, Uncle Weed?”

“Sometimes.”

His face falls, the elated happiness ripped from his expression. I glance up at Mia who is watching us a foot away, her face pinched in distress in response to my answer. Tessa flips me off behind her menu.

Shit.

“Uh, yeah, I wear it all the time,” I recover quickly. “I just didn’t have it with me on Saturday because I left it at the job site. But I should’ve had it.” I knock a fist against his hat. “Safety first.”

He grins, his dimples hollowing out his cheeks. “Cool.” He slides into the booth next to Mia who is cradling Chase against her chest. She slowly shakes her head at me.

“Sorry,” I mouth.

“It’s okay,” she mouths back, smiling.

“So,” Tessa begins, drumming her nails on the table after dropping her menu. I look over at her, watching the calculating smile spread across her lips. “I’ve already filled Mia in on your news. She agrees with me and is also interested in pursuing vehicular manslaughter.”

“Tessa,” Mia scolds in a warning tone. She tilts her head to the side where Nolan is sitting. “Let’s not teach him new phrases to repeat, okay? He’s already picked up Ben’s favorite word and brought it up in Sunday school last week. Now the whole class is referring to cats by their other name.”

I drop my head, laughing silently next to Tessa who isn’t holding hers back at all. She’s falling against me, her loud cackles filling the restaurant.

“I would’ve loved to have been there when you got scolded by the nuns,” Tessa says between her hysterics. She sits up and wipes under her eyes. “Who was it? Sister Francis?”

“I wish. She’s not that scary,” Mia answers. She shifts Chase against her so he’s facing us, his back to her front.

I never know how to acknowledge babies. He’s obviously here, and staring at me with those big brown eyes that resemble Mia’s, waiting for me to give him something. So I settle on a nod, an informal what’s up.

Drool falls down his chin and onto his shirt.

He’s not amused. I should’ve went bigger.

Sal, the owner, comes walking up to our table, holding a ball of pizza dough in one hand. He knows all of us well, especially Tessa and myself. We came here all the time back in high school.

“How’s it going? We bring our big bellies today?” He smiles down at Nolan and sets the dough on the table in front of him. “You make any shape you like, okay? I bake it for you and you take it home.”

“Oh cool!” Nolan starts pounding his fist into the dough to flatten it out.

Sal looks around the table. “What’ll it be today?”

“Just cheese for us,” Mia replies before looking across the table. “Do you want to do half and half?”

I nod. “Yeah, sounds good.” I look over at Tessa. “What do you want? Everything?”

She turns her hand into a gun, points it at me, and makes a clicking sound in the back of her throat. “Bingo.”

“Okay, half cheese, half the works,” Sal echoes the order in his thick accent. “And to drink?”

“White milk,” Nolan declares as he sits up on his knees and hovers over the dough for leverage.

“White milk?” I ask.

Mia shakes her head through a smile, looking between Sal and myself. “He means plain milk. Not chocolate. It’s how he’s been saying it lately.”

“Daddy says milk will help me get big muscles like him.” He looks across the table, tilting his head up to see me underneath his hat. “Do you dwink white milk too, Uncle Weed? For youwr muscles?”

“Yeah, of course.” I look up at Sal. “I’ll have a root beer.”

A foot connects with my shin underneath the table, and I drop my eyes to Mia who’s exaggerating her stare and officially confusing the hell out of me.

“What?” I silently ask, holding my hands out. It’s then I look back to Nolan and see his eyes still on me, wide and unsure.