The looks on their faces was the catalyst to my crazy behavior.

They’d looked shattered. Confused. Devastated.

And the seed was planted.

“Talked to Coert,” Mickey went on. “First offense on record, blood alcohol level wasn’t that high, bail was low. She bonded out last night. Don’t know what’s gonna happen from here. She ’fesses up, may get a slap on the wrist but at most, Coert says it’ll be community service. I called her. She was pissed I called but I told her we had to talk. Took some doin’ since the last talk we had before I gave her the kids back after she pulled that shit on Cill’s birthday wasn’t taken all that great. But she agreed to meet tonight. Goin’ to her before I go home to my kids.”

That was surprising.

“You talked to her after Cillian’s birthday?” I asked.

“Not gonna send my kids back to her if she’s still on a bender,” he replied.

“You didn’t…” I hesitated, wondering if I should go on but since I’d started I decided I’d better, “tell me.”

“Amy, you had your own shit goin’ down with your family. We’d just got on track. Not the time to drag you down in my shit. Never is really the time to drag you down in my shit, but Rhiannon isn’t in my life and still, seconds away from fuckin’ you, doin’ it hard because you’re bein’ a smartass and both of us lookin’ forward to it, get a call from the sheriff with her draggin’ both of us down in her shit.”

I didn’t really have a good feeling about Mickey not thinking he could share things with me.

I also didn’t think it was the time to go over that with him.

Instead, I invited, “Auden is coming over tonight for dinner and to watch TV. But I’d like it if you’d phone me to let me know how your meeting went.” I said that but quickly added, “I mean, if you want to.”

“I get home, get my kids fed and sorted, I’ll do that, baby.”

At least that was good.

“And fuckin’ great news your boy is comin’ to you just to hang.”

That made me grin. “Yeah.”

“Right, aren’t you at Dove House?” he asked.

“Outside, about to go in,” I told him.

“Hope Mrs. McMurphy doesn’t hand you your ticket to Nuremberg.”

That had me giggling through which I said, “I think I’ve bought some immunity with her birthday cookie sandwiches.”

“Only Nazi I know who could do that is you, though, sayin’ that, those cookies were the shit.”

He would think so. He’d had three after we’d had Chinese.

“I should probably get in,” I said.

“I should probably get back,” he replied, though his was a lot less enthusiastic than mine.