Chapter 75
“Soren snuck it to me and said your punishment was unjust.” My father lies!
“Did he now?” my mother asks, turning her icy gaze to me. I open my mouth to argue when Max, the traitor, adds his two
cents.
“Sure did, Grandma. I even told him not to!” my son adds fuel to the fire. My mother tosses her hand towel from on her shoulder down on the table.
I can
“Right! You know better, Soren! Now help do the dishes!” she snaps at me. Me, do dishes? But I am the damn king!
“Come now?” I ask.
“You heard me. Get in there and scrub those dishes. Your father lied to me and said he was busy this afternoon, and I punished him, and you go behind my back and reward him!” she snaps at me.
“I have maids for that,” I remind her.
“Are you saying a king is above doing dishes?” she asks just as the head maid walks in. I grit my teeth.
“Everything okay?” the maid asks, and my mother turns to her.
“Yes, my son was volunteering to help with the dishes. How lovely of him.” my mother tells her.
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“Oh, no, that isn’t necessary.” the maid blabbers.
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“Nonsense, Soren insists, take the night off.” my mother tells. her. The maid glances at me like she isn’t sure if my mother is serious. I know she will pitch a fit if I don’t and probably drag me in there by my ear.
“Isn’t that right, Soren?” my mother asks. I force a smile.
“That is correct, Marjorie; take the night off,” I tell her, grabbing the tea towel my mother tossed on the table, only to find Bree has bailed on the scolding I am about to receive. Oh, she will pay for this when I get to the room. Marjorie rushes off, noticing the tension when my mother steps in my path.
“Really, Soren, you should know better. You may be almost a seven–foot man now, but my knees work just fine. Don’t make me put you over one,” she scolds. I growl at her, and my father snickers behind me.
“I’d like to see you try, Mother. You keep giving me attitude, and I might pick you up and place you on a shelf and leave you there,” She arches an eyebrow at me.
“Is that so?” she clicks her tongue.
“You’ll be my little elf on the shelf,” I snicker.
“Challenge accepted, son,” she clicks her fingers; my father’s personal guards step into the room.
“I may be small, son, but I can still chop you down to size to deliver the spanking you deserve,” she retorts. The guards look at her nervously, knowing if she orders them, they’ll have no choice but to try since they are my mother and father’s sires.
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“So what will it be?” she asks, popping her hip. I growl, not wanting to hurt her guards, and she knows it. My father laughs harder behind me.
“Just remember who picks your nursing home, old man!” I remind him, which shuts him up.
“What nursing home? I am immortal!” He scoffs.
“I’ll have one made just to take you!” I quip, and he scrunches his face.
“At least I’ll get dessert!” He huffs behind me, and my mother leans to the side to glare at him around me. She then
straightens and looks at me expectantly for an answer. I press my lips in a line, this woman!
“They better have gloves,” I snap at her before storming off toward the kitchen.
“Beneath the sink, son,” she calls after me.
*****
Two hours later.
My hands resemble prunes by the time I am done. It’s like they used every dish in the kitchen to cook dinner tonight. Once finished, and my mother gave the nod of approval, I immediately left, knowing I needed to tuck Max into bed.
Walking upstairs, I move toward his room when I hear the murmur of voices. I linger in the dimly lit hallway, just a few paces from Max’s bedroom door, my heart thrumming a guilty beat against my ribs, knowing I wasn’t there for bath time or to tuck him in. The light from within spills out across
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the floor, and the hushed voices of Bree and my son reach my ears. Bree is reading to him, it appears. When the book ends, I am about to walk in and kiss him goodnight when I hear his
voice.
“Are you going to tuck me in every night?” Max’s innocent question floats out, and the hope in his tone is like a punch in the gut.
“Don’t I anyway until your father comes?” she answers.
“No, I mean…” Max’s voice trails off.
“I’ll tuck you whenever you’d like,” Bree replies, her voice soft.
“No, I mean like Dad,” he answers.
“What do you mean?”
“Dad usually reads to me…” he trails off.
“What’s wrong?” Bree asks him.
“As my mom… you could be my mom,” Max’s words are a whisper, but they detonate inside me with the force of an explosion.
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Chapter 76
