Chapter 20: Talking It Out
“Get your ass back in here,” I bellowed. Bernard flinched, but the kid stopped at the edge of the kitchen table, pushing his hands into his pockets. I shoved back out of my seat and sighted down my forefinger at the kid. “You’re the one who was gung-ho about this talk thing. By damn, if I have to sit through it, so do you.”
“Besides,” I said as he shuffled back into the living room, his shoulders slumped. “Whoever told you I didn’t like you?”
He shot me the sort of look you’d expect from a kid you just told that Santa was your mom and dad. “I don’t need nobody to tell me. If you liked me, I’d still be living with you, wouldn’t I?”
“You would not.” I grabbed my whiskey sour and swallowed half of it. “You’re a slob, kid. I’d have made you get your own place eve
