the food. “Did you have to use a saw?”
“Yeah, he was quite a mess. A car had hit him, caught his leg under the back wheel, and mangled it. We had no option but to remove it.”
She heard a strangled moan and glanced at Mac.
Curious, she took a closer look as he turned an unattractive shade of green. He was good at turning green, but it didn’t suit him. She grinned; she knew it was cruel, but she couldn’t help the wicked thrill that shot up her spine as she spotted another chink in the tough guy’s armor.
She smiled and obligingly filled her son in on the gory details. Her dad had always come home with bloody tales from surgery to relate over the dinner table. It had never occurred to her it might upset someone. Ryan’s ten-year-old friends seem to revel in listening to surgical stories.
It only slowed Mac down for a short while, and then she caught the look in his eye that said he was on to her as he picked his fork up again and started filling his mouth, his normal color returning. It had been fun for a moment. She wondered if she should relate the morning’s work of lamb castration, but as she glanced back up from her food, Ryan was watching her intently.
“Mum?”
“Ryan?”
Ryan chewed his lip, glanced at Mac and down at his plate, pushing a cherry tomato around with his fork.
“Week after next is Parents’ Job Week—on the Tuesday.”
Zoe’s heart trembled; she knew what it was, she’d done it last year. She’d turned up with a few animals and explained what a vet did for a living. It took twenty minutes and the kids had loved it. She didn’t particularly.
Unfortunately, she knew it wasn’t her he wanted.
“I said Cormack Blunt would come.”
Silence panned out until Zoe couldn’t bear it any longer. She looked at Mac’s closed face and raised both eyebrows, trying to will him to understand what Ryan wanted. How important it was.
“I’m afraid I can’t, Ryan. I’ll be tied up filming all day.”
Zoe’s chest squeezed as she saw the crestfallen look on her son’s face. She placed her knife and fork down with shaky hands and smiled tightly.
“Perhaps I can fill in.”
Ryan’s eyebrows pulled low over his forehead and his bottom lip pouted, looking too much like Mac for comfort.
“Thanks. But it won’t be the same.” He chewed his cheek. “Please may I leave the table?”
She thought it would look too obvious if she gave Mac a swift kick, but she really wanted to.
“Yes. Have you done your homework?” Ryan shook his head, his sullen mouth downturned. “Bring it to the table and settle down. Mac will be going now so you can concentrate.” Her heart ached as she watched Ryan drag his feet across the kitchen and pick up his schoolbag. All he wanted to do was boast about who his father was because so far no one believed him. Some of the kids were starting to tease him because of his insistence that Cormack Blunt was his dad. The fact everyone knew Cormack Blunt was filming in the area just seemed to prove it was a ten-year-old’s overactive and hopeful imagination.
She found she couldn’t look at Mac. It wasn’t his fault; he obviously had no idea of the significance, but she still wanted to beat him senseless.
“Hey kid…Ryan, look, I’m sorry, okay. I’m real busy now.” Gratified to see at least he seemed a little guilty, she tried desperately not to interfere.
“S’no biggie.”
“Huh?”
“He means it’s not a big deal. Don’t worry.”
“Oh.” It didn’t look like Mac was going to move anytime soon, and as Zoe stood to stack the plates, she noticed the small frown line between his eyebrows similar to her son’s.
“Can I help with your homework? Do you have math?”
Ryan snorted and flung his bag on the table. “You speak funny sometimes. It’s numeracy.” He tipped the books out of his bag and pushed a blue one toward Mac, smiling as he sat next to him, apparently already over his disappointment.
“Well, it’s a damned long way
“Yeah, he was quite a mess. A car had hit him, caught his leg under the back wheel, and mangled it. We had no option but to remove it.”
She heard a strangled moan and glanced at Mac.
Curious, she took a closer look as he turned an unattractive shade of green. He was good at turning green, but it didn’t suit him. She grinned; she knew it was cruel, but she couldn’t help the wicked thrill that shot up her spine as she spotted another chink in the tough guy’s armor.
She smiled and obligingly filled her son in on the gory details. Her dad had always come home with bloody tales from surgery to relate over the dinner table. It had never occurred to her it might upset someone. Ryan’s ten-year-old friends seem to revel in listening to surgical stories.
It only slowed Mac down for a short while, and then she caught the look in his eye that said he was on to her as he picked his fork up again and started filling his mouth, his normal color returning. It had been fun for a moment. She wondered if she should relate the morning’s work of lamb castration, but as she glanced back up from her food, Ryan was watching her intently.
“Mum?”
“Ryan?”
Ryan chewed his lip, glanced at Mac and down at his plate, pushing a cherry tomato around with his fork.
“Week after next is Parents’ Job Week—on the Tuesday.”
Zoe’s heart trembled; she knew what it was, she’d done it last year. She’d turned up with a few animals and explained what a vet did for a living. It took twenty minutes and the kids had loved it. She didn’t particularly.
Unfortunately, she knew it wasn’t her he wanted.
“I said Cormack Blunt would come.”
Silence panned out until Zoe couldn’t bear it any longer. She looked at Mac’s closed face and raised both eyebrows, trying to will him to understand what Ryan wanted. How important it was.
“I’m afraid I can’t, Ryan. I’ll be tied up filming all day.”
Zoe’s chest squeezed as she saw the crestfallen look on her son’s face. She placed her knife and fork down with shaky hands and smiled tightly.
“Perhaps I can fill in.”
Ryan’s eyebrows pulled low over his forehead and his bottom lip pouted, looking too much like Mac for comfort.
“Thanks. But it won’t be the same.” He chewed his cheek. “Please may I leave the table?”
She thought it would look too obvious if she gave Mac a swift kick, but she really wanted to.
“Yes. Have you done your homework?” Ryan shook his head, his sullen mouth downturned. “Bring it to the table and settle down. Mac will be going now so you can concentrate.” Her heart ached as she watched Ryan drag his feet across the kitchen and pick up his schoolbag. All he wanted to do was boast about who his father was because so far no one believed him. Some of the kids were starting to tease him because of his insistence that Cormack Blunt was his dad. The fact everyone knew Cormack Blunt was filming in the area just seemed to prove it was a ten-year-old’s overactive and hopeful imagination.
She found she couldn’t look at Mac. It wasn’t his fault; he obviously had no idea of the significance, but she still wanted to beat him senseless.
“Hey kid…Ryan, look, I’m sorry, okay. I’m real busy now.” Gratified to see at least he seemed a little guilty, she tried desperately not to interfere.
“S’no biggie.”
“Huh?”
“He means it’s not a big deal. Don’t worry.”
“Oh.” It didn’t look like Mac was going to move anytime soon, and as Zoe stood to stack the plates, she noticed the small frown line between his eyebrows similar to her son’s.
“Can I help with your homework? Do you have math?”
Ryan snorted and flung his bag on the table. “You speak funny sometimes. It’s numeracy.” He tipped the books out of his bag and pushed a blue one toward Mac, smiling as he sat next to him, apparently already over his disappointment.
“Well, it’s a damned long way
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