“So what you’re saying is that you dropped by to give me some stew?”
“Well, that’s only the half of it…” Mary-Margaret’s voice dropped as her eyes shifted from side to side.
“Mom,” Mike whispered with an equally lowered voice, “unless there are burglars upstairs, you and I the only ones here.”
“Well, there might as well be, let me tell ye.” She looked knowingly at her son. “When I let meself in, Carmen and a young lad were just lettin’ themselves out. And she was carryin’ more than a handbag, if ye know what I mean?”
“I see,” Mike said through gritted teeth, annoyed at being forced to see this whole fuckup as more than just a bad dream.
“Michael,” his mother cautiously began, pulling him in to her as only a mother would, “I’d be lyin’ to ye now if I said I was sorry. I do believe tha
