“I most certainly did. But I figured out that, when your father wasn’t around, I could put a little vodka in your bottle and you’d settle right down. Then my friend Annie—you know Annie. She’s the one who married that Arab and moved to Dubai or some shit hole in the desert—well, Annie liked weed, and she used to blow the smoke in your face.”
“Mom!”
“Well, she did, darling. It helped you to relax.”
“And I’ve been going to twelve-step programs ever since.”
“We didn’t know you’d turn out to be a drug addict, dear.”
“Mom, would you stop it? You know none of that is true. Your friends might find it amusing, but I don’t.”
“He really is uptight, isn’t he, Wiley?” she asked, glancing at me.
“You have no idea.”
“So when do I get to meet this other child?” she asked, returning her attention to Jackson.
“We’re going to see her tomorrow afternoon. We’re going to take Tony and let them meet each other, have a small visit and see what happens.”