Aunt Blanche was so gentle and beautiful—if only she could be his mom, Terrell thought wistfully. Pressing close to her ear, he whispered his home address, hoping to give his dad a huge surprise. If his father met Aunt Blanche on his birthday, Terrell just knew he'd be thrilled.
Healy watched Blanche fuss over someone else's child, and a cold, aching feeling swept through him. He hurried over and grabbed her hand. "Mom, you can't care about him. And you can't give him presents."
He stuck out his lower lip, looking wounded. "I'm hurt too. My butt really hurts. Mom, blow on it, and buy me a present."
Blanche looked down at Healy's little hand clutching hers. He was frowning in pain, his other hand pressed to his backside. She remembered—this was the second time she'd seen Healy get hit. The first time, Eddy had slapped him across the face.
Watching him now, she felt a pang of guilt, but when she thought of Tia, she couldn't help feeling Healy had brought this on himself. His possessiveness made her frown even more.
Healy had been standing right next to Lara when it all happened; he could have stopped it, but he did nothing. Maybe he'd just frozen up, but even after she fell, he hadn't said a single word of concern. Yet the moment she showed kindness to another child, talked about buying a present for someone else, he threw a tantrum, desperate for her attention.
Blanche gently pulled her hand from Healy's grip. "A couple swats on the backside will stop hurting soon enough," she said, her tone even. "And as for gifts—I can give them to whomever I want. That's not up to you."
She paused, her voice turning stern. "But you, Healy—if you don't apologize to your sister Tia before the day is over, don't call me Mom anymore."
The words slipped out before she could stop herself, anger rising at the way Healy always sided against his own family. She was his mother, and she had to accept him, flaws and all—but he had no right to treat Tia that way.
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