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monster for every year old they are.”
    With mock horror obviously meant to ease the growing tension between the two, she said, “Well then, I guess we better get a move on. Wouldn’t want you to have to do nine whole monsters!”
    After a casual ruffle of his brown curls, one that made Cody feel like more of an outsider than he could have ever imagined, Shelby crossed the kitchen and opened the fridge. “How about I pack up a cheese stick and juice box while you go feed Bandit and grab your gear?”
    “Okay. But hurry.” Jacob gave Cody one last glare, grabbed his backpack and an apple, and let the screen door slam on its hinges behind him.
    Cody and Shelby stood silent, each second more painful than the last.
    “This isn’t how I wanted it to happen.”
    What was he supposed to say to that? Genuine regret or not, she’d just served him up a blow harder than anything his old man had ever dished out. Still reeling, he didn’t realize Shelby was leaving until she was halfway through the door.
    “Hold up. You can’t drop that on me and then just walk out. I want answers.”
    She stopped at the threshold. “You don’t think I know that? I get it, trust me. But right now I need to be Mama to a confused little boy.” She finally turned to address him, her eyes hollow. “Besides, I’ve never had a problem with running. That’s your M.O.”

    “Eat up, kiddo, you still have to shower and do homework,” Shelby said, more to start a conversation than to speed up supper.
    She wouldn’t mind stalling until she was good and sure Cody had eaten and they wouldn’t be forced to sit at that table in strained silence. Or worse, get into it in front of Jake. Which was partially why she’d brought Jake to The B-Cubed, so they could talk without having to hold back. Not that he was talking.
    “Not really hungry,” Jake mumbled, smashing a fry with his finger.
    Normally after a day of school and football, Jake inhaled a meal twice his size. Tonight though, he seemed sullen and withdrawn, picking and pushing at, more than eating, his food. He’d been this way since they left The Crossing and Shelby didn’t have to guess why. But it still hurt her heart.
    Jake was a kid who liked to see what was coming. A side effect, Shelby thought sadly, that came from living with a man like Preston. If Jake knew what to expect, he could prepare himself for the letdown.
    Cody showing up, right after Jake had accepted that his daddy wasn’t coming, had been hard to take. Especially on the heels of losing his grandpa. But to see his parents together for the first time, only to have them arguing . . . well, Shelby would just add it to her ever-growing list of stupid decisions where Jake was concerned.
    “That was a great throw you made today.”
    “Pass.” Jake said to the table, making ketchup doodles across his plate with a fry.
    “Fine, it was a great pass you made.”
    “It sucked. Jason didn’t even catch it.”
    “Language,” Shelby corrected.
    “He caught Ryan’s.” Jake finally met her eyes, looking heartbroken all over again, as if he would never be good enough.
    Shelby was about to comment when Faith Loren, waitress, busgirl, bartender, and sometime-biscuit-baker at the oldest “establishment” in the county, approached the table.
    “You all finished here?”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Jake said and Shelby wondered when the slight Southern drawl had woven its way into her son’s voice. Then she smiled. Even though he’d been born in California, he was a Texas boy through and through—which was why she needed to figure out a way to raise him here, while protecting him from further disappointment.
    “But you barely touched your food,” Faith said, clearing the plates and digging her elbow into her side to balance the tray. “Was anything wrong with it? I can have Mrs. McKinney whip you up something else if you’d like.”
    Jake looked at Shelby and even though she wanted to tell the waitress he’d had a rough day,