Page 103 of Michael: The Hawthornes

“Don’t pull your weight, my ass,” I mumbled, my heart still racing. “Jesus. We’re goin’ to get a gate right the fuck now.”

“After I get dressed,” Emilia said, sniffling as she kissed Rhett’s hair. “I’m not leaving the house in this… and I think I peed my pants a little.”

“Better than me,” I joked with a shudder. “Pretty sure I shit mine.”

Emilia started giggling, and I smiled. “Come on, Rhett,” I said, gently pulling him away from his mother. “Let’s get you dressed while Mama gets ready.”

It took nearly as long to change Rhett—hehadshit his pants—and get him dressed as it did for Emilia to get ready. I’d just barely gotten his little shoes on when she came swinging into the room, her eyes wide.

“What’s up?” I asked, rising to my feet.

“We have to stop by your grandparents’ house,” she said, pulling at her hair. “I can’t go in public like this.”

“It’s not so bad,” I lied.

“I look like a complete weirdo.”

“I like weirdos.”

“I’m calling Callie.”

“Alright.” I looked at Rhett. “You wanna go see Great-Gram?”

“Great-Gram,” he agreed, raising his arms so I’d pick him up.

Half an hour later, Rhett and I were watching cartoons in my grandparents’ living room while Gram moved around Emilia in the kitchen, clucking and humming as she tried to figure out how to salvage her hair.

“What in the world did you do, honey?” she asked in genuine confusion.

I laughed silently.

“Stressful day,” Emilia replied vaguely.

“I’ve had plenty of those,” Gram said with a scoff. “But I’ve never cut my hair with a pair of nail clippers.”

“I had scissors.”

“If you say so.”

“Can you fix it?” Emilia said nervously. “I can’t leave it like this.”

“Well,” Gram said, drawing the word out. “I can, yes. But don’t you want to go to someone that’s up on all the new cuts? I haven’t worked in damn near forever.”

“I donotwant someone else seeing it like this,” Emilia murmured.

“Are you sure?” Gram prodded. “If I try and keep the length, you’re going to look like Dorothy Hamill.”

“I don’t know who that is,” Emilia replied.

“Figure skater?”

There was no response.

“Aw, hell. I can cut it into a cute pixie, but I think…”

“What are you doing?” Emilia asked suspiciously as I leaned my head back on the couch to try and see into the kitchen.

“I’m calling in reinforcements,” Gram said grimly.

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