The silence stretches, I jog over to my car and return with a bottle of water I pass to him. It is fifteen minutes to seven and no sign of Benny. I send Mum a text to know what we will be having for dinner. It is the only way to know if she has arrived. Her work schedule is unpredictable and homemade dinner means she will be home tonight. My phone pings with a reply to order take out, I smile sadly. I’ll be home alone again. Yay. “Is Benny always late?”
“Sometimes,” he says with a shrug like he is used to it and a strong urge to chew Benny’s ears off with lectures about kids takes over me. I glance at Asher finishing the last batch of his cookies and slide the empty wrap into my pocket. “How’s my face?” Asher points to his chubby cheeks to ascertain there is no evidence of his snacking, I
