“Stuff.” She gestured to Emery.
“I don’t think Emery appreciates being referred to as stuff.”
“I’m trying not to be indelicate.”
“You’re doing a fine job.”
Emery snorted, and Jack struggled to keep a straight face.
“Don’t be a smart-ass with me, Jack. All I’m going to say.” She dipped her face to his and lowered her voice, “You better take care of my girl and this kid, or I will hunt you down, flatten you, and bring you here to give the very large pizza oven in my kitchen back there a new purpose in life.”
Seeing Emery cover her mouth and choke on her laughter, Jack’s eyes twinkled into Iris’s. “You’ve given this some very graphic thought.”
“Don’t think you can charm your way out of this. You need to take responsibility for your actions.”
That dispelled Jack’s humor. “Iris, I know Emery means something to you so I’m not going to tell you to mind your own business, even though that’s really what I want to say. Instead, I’ll assure you that there is nothing more important to me than Emery and our kid.”
She harrumphed but straightened. “Okay, then. What do you want to eat?”
After they’d ordered and Iris had left the table, Em sighed as she glanced around the restaurant. “I know she means well, but she just made them all stare again.”
“They’ll stop, Em. Once they get used to us, they’ll stop.”
“We’re none of their business.”
“Agreed.”
“They’ve come back to the store.”
“You told me.” He cocked his head, confused by her melancholy tone. “That’s a good thing.”
She wrinkled her nose, her expression adorably petulant. It made him want to kiss her. Everything she did made him want to kiss her. “I’m still mad at them for believing the worst in me, Jack.”
“Coming from someone who had to live with them thinking the worst of him for years, I can honestly tell you that it’s best to just let it go. Forgive them. They’re not worth that eating at you.”
Emery’s eyes brightened with sympathy. “I’m sorry. That was totally insensitive to say to you. And you’re right. I shouldn’t let what they did fester. I have a bad habit of holding on to things.”
Tell me about it.
“Do you ever let them go?”
“Sometimes.” She shrugged. “Most of the time. I only tend to hang on if it’s me I’m mad at, not someone else.”
“What do you ever need to be mad at yourself for? You’re perfect.”
She guffawed. “I’m not perfect, Jack.”
“No, but you’re perfect in all your perfection and imperfections. So, you’re still perfect.” He smiled.
“Iris is right.” Em rolled her eyes. “You are such a charmer.”
“But I always speak the truth,” he promised.
She seemed unable to meet his gaze after that. Instead she fiddled with her napkin and blurted out, “Do you forgive your dad?”
Jack was a little taken aback by the question, but he wanted to share everything with Em. Even the difficult stuff. “I don’t know. That’s the honest truth. I just know that I don’t want him to have any part of my life or my decisions going forward. I can’t wait for his trial to come along, be over with. I guess I’m trying to forgive him. But not for him—for me. For my family.”
“How are they? Your family?”