Chapter 2

“Uh-huh.”

“Love, love, loveyou, big guy!”

“Uh-huh.”

“You rock my world!”

“Put a lid on it, Wiley,” he said firmly. “A month. Zip it.”

“Fine,” I said, pouting. “I know when I’m not appreciated.”

“You’re too much sometimes, that’s all.”

“When a penis comes along…I must zip it!” I sang.

“Oh, Jesus!”

In the backseat, Noah sang, “Hoo hoo awk! Hoo hoo awk!” He was deaf and didn’t quite know what a note was, but he was determined to keep trying until he got it right.

What are you singing? I signed.

It’s a J-o-h-n D-e-n-v-e-r song, he signed with a sly smile.

Are you being smart with me?

Yes.

I’ve taught you well! Good boy! Are you hungry?

Can we go to M-C? His face was suddenly very earnest. “M-C” was finger spelling for the Golden Arches, which we rarely visited because we weren’t especially fond of food-like products. Well, Iwasn’t. Just one of the many things that has yet to rub off on my only child.

I don’t know, I said.

Please? I’ll stop singing…

Really?

He nodded eagerly.

Maybe…

Please?

Maybe…

Daddy! We never go! My friends go all the time, but we never do! Please? Just once? Why can’t I have a normal father like everyone else? Why do you have to be so weird?

I’m not weird!

Are too!

Am not!

Are too! Please? Can we go? Just once?

I don’t know. Have you been a good boy?

Of course!

Your room is a pigsty.

I’ll clean it up. I promise!

You’ve got clothes that have been laying on your floor for so long they’re going to get up and walk away.

Please?

I don’t know…

You’re my favorite daddy, and I love you so, so much, and I’ve been so good, and even Mrs. H says I’ve been so, so good—

Was this before or after you put a spider on L-i-s-a’s desk at school and I had to talk to your teacher?

His grin was full of mischievous joy.

You think that was funny? I asked.

He nodded. It was hard to argue because it wasfunny, if only because Lisa Stedler was an insufferable little snot who had joyfully taken it upon herself to inform their classmates that Noah had “two daddies” and should not be allowed to play with them during recess.

You should not have done that, I signed as sternly as I could.

I told her I was sorry, he signed, striking a penitent pose. And you already punished me. And anyway, you can’t punish me twice—that’s the rule. Remember? You can’t break the rules. So…can we go?

If you don’t stop singing, Papa’s going to make you sit on top of the car for the rest of the trip.

He will not!

He’s really cranky today. He might…

I’ll stop, he promised. So…can we?

Oh, all right!

His triumphant smile revealed the hell that was his teeth—gaps, doubles, the sort of bad teeth that would make Satan proud and which Lisa Stedler and her clique of fifth-grade demonic entities never tired of ridiculing. Like the extra pinkie on his left hand, they were visible reminders of his start in life as a meth baby with the birth defects to prove it.

Daddy? he asked, face suddenly serious, blond hair tumbling into his eyes.

What, sweetie?

Do you think Papa’s mom and dad will like me?

Of course they will.

They’re going to be my grandmother and grandfather, aren’t they?

Yes.

Do you think they’ll like me? I mean, really, really like me?

I know they will, baby

He did not seem convinced.

Why wouldn’t they? I asked.

He shrugged, bit his lower lip.

They’re going to like you. Don’t you worry, I said.

He turned away and looked out the window at the Mississippi countryside flying by.

I turned back to Jackson, glanced at the speedometer.

“Fifty-five? Seriously?”

“Oh my freaking God!” Jackson Ledbetter exclaimed. “Would you shut your pie hole?”

“Don’t argue in front of the kids, dear.” 2: Bride of Chucky

When Mr. and Mrs. Stephen Ledbetter of Boston caught sight of their son standing in the departure area in the international airport terminal in Memphis with a scruffy-looking, goatee-wearing Southerner with a ponytail (me) and a pinched-faced, sandal-wearing deaf boy with a shock of curly blond hair with a life of its own (my son, Noah, looking like something from Beasts of the Southern Wild), there was a long moment of silence.

“So niceto meet you,” Mrs. Ledbetter said as we converged and Jackson made introductions. She extended a long, bony hand in my direction as she glanced down her nose at Noah. “And this is your…daughter?”

“This is Noah, my son,” I said.