I strap him into his car seat and he smiles at me, laughing because I might have tickled him while strapping him down.
“Are you tired today, Daddy?” he asks when I get myself in the driver’s seat and crank the car over. At least he’s not asking about Sera.
“Not so much today.”
“That’s good. I didn’t get tired today, either. I really want pizza, you didn’t forget, right?”
I shake my head then realize he can’t see me. Idiot. “No, I didn’t. I’m going to order it when we get home. Do you want cheese, or do you want all-dressed?” All-dressed to him means vegetables and he gives the expected answer. No way.
It’s not until fifteen minutes after I ordered the pizza and we get in the door that my phone gives a beep and my heart goes into overdrive. Is it her?
I swipe my phone to look at the text Sera’s sent me. Alive and well. Have not been kidnapped.
You tool, you actually left that as a message? Christ on the crucifix.
I press my advantage, shooting off texts inviting her over for pizza. I stare down hard at my phone like the thing is going to somehow make her appear before my eyes but then I get a knock at the door, and can’t help grinning like a demented idiot.
I swear, if I didn’t have so much wrong with me health-wise, this broad would put me in the hospital. I’m a fucking mess.
I move to open the door and don’t bother with the peephole. I’m hoping it’s Sera. Jesus Christ, let it be her.
I unlock and open the door to be confronted with her. She’s fucking beautiful in a pencil skirt that has images of me fucking her from behind with the skirt rolled up to her waist, a bright orange shirt, and her hair loose around her shoulders, glasses in place. Now’s not the time to be a horn-dog. Cool it.
“Hi,” I say, forcing my face into a smile even though I’ve gotten the sweats. Shit, and I’m still wearing my work clothes. I must stink worse than a pig rolling around in shit. I’ve got grease on my shirt, and my hands are filthy.
She steps into my place and looks around like she’s seeing it for the first time. I watch a shiver do amazing things to her tits, until Matty interrupts my mental porno reel and collides with her legs.
“Sera!” he yells, staring up at her from her legs. Kid, can we trade places? “We’re eating pizza with pineapple on it! Isn’t that cool?”
“You bet, kiddo.” I watch Sera grin at Matty, and have to look away. The kid’s going to be destroyed when Sera takes off, absolutely destroyed. In this though, I’m too selfish. I need a piece of what she can give me, and I won’t give that up. “Here, let me get my shoes off.”
“Whooooaaah. Is that... is that Superman? And Batman? They’re friends!?” Matty hunkers down right next to her, looking at her sneakers and pointing out things he recognizes. I sort of want to get on my hands and knees too and investigate.
“Hey, hey. Even though Batman is best friends with Superman, we both know who the cooler one is, don’t we?”
“But Superman can fly!” Matty yells, arms practically flailing.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Sera asks, done unlacing one shoe, only to move on to the other foot.
“Sera, he can fly.” He airplanes around in a circle, but Sera’s looking at him like she has something important to say. Tell him. Tell him, please.
“Matty, flying around doesn’t mean you’re better than anybody else.” Holy shit, this girl. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?
“He’s the best because he can fly! Duh.”
Sera does nothing more than shake her head, toe-off her other sneaker and joins Matty at the kitchen table while I go for plates, because we need those to eat, and napkins are not good enough for a girl like her.
“Batman’s parents died when he was a kid.” I stop moving, watching her grab the kid’s hand and giving him a small smile. My heart’s loud in my ears, but I’m too concentrated on what she has to say without wanting to pass out.
“But he grew up to be a good man, a strong man, one dedicated to stop crime, to save lives, maybe to forgive himself that he couldn’t do it when he was younger, that he couldn’t save his mom and dad. Clark was born super strong – there’s nothing special about that.”
Matty stares down at their joined hands. “So... Being strong means you’re not a hero?”
“It means that anybody can do the right thing. Anybody. Understand?”
“No.”
I’ve braced myself on the kitchen counter, looking over at the pair of them. No one, other than me, has tried to teach Matty a lesson about life, about how it’s going to be. Sera’s doing it so artfully, I’m struck dumb. This is the kind of girl you marry, MacLaine, and don’t you forget it.