The Return of Bowie Bravo

“Maybe you forgot. She didn’t even give him my name.” On Johnny’s birth certificate, Glory had told Brett to put Dellazola as the last name.

“But she did put you down as the father, didn’t she?”

“Why are we talking about this, Ma?”

“You’d rather we discussed the weather? All right. It was snowing. Now it’s not.”

He laughed. “Smart-ass.”

“Don’t call your mother names.” Her old cat, Mr. Lucky, jumped into her lap. She scratched him under the chin. “People will think that you’re badly brought up.”

“I hate to break it to you, but I have a feeling they think that already.”

Her expression grew serious again. “You’ve got quite a job ahead of you.”

“I know it.”

“Not only with Johnny.” She stroked Mr. Lucky’s caramel-colored coat. “Glory’s got that big heart of hers hardened against you.”

“That’s not news—and it doesn’t matter, about Glory’s heart. It’s over between her and me. I just want to help her out if I can because I owe it to her. And because she’s the mother of my son.”

“Oh, come on, you don’t really believe that, do you? I certainly don’t.”

He reminded himself that his mother never did have her head screwed on straight when it came to love and romance. After all, she’d loved Blake Bravo. Loved him big time, and loved him long enough to give him four sons.

Chastity spoke again. “I know what you’re thinking. Stop.”

He said, “Glory loved her husband. I’m old news.”

His mom looked into her coffee cup, but then set it down without taking a sip. Mr. Lucky jumped from her lap and strutted off down the hall. “How long you here for?”

“As long as it takes to work things out with my son and to see that Glory’s back on her feet and managing okay with a new baby to look after.”

“I wouldn’t say she’s on her own. She can’t walk down the street without tripping over a relative.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Oh, yes, I do,” his mom said too sweetly. “Probably better than you.”

Back at Glory’s house, he found Mamma Rose at the cooktop in the kitchen with a very fussy Sera on her shoulder. “Stella and Glory had words,” she said with a shrug. “So Stell went home. Then Angie left, too. She’s got the boys and Brett to look after.” Angie and Brett had two sons—Jackson, who would be six in a couple of months, and Graham, who was two. Rose stirred a big pot of pasta sauce. “Johnny’s upstairs in his room.…” Sera let out a yelp, then yawned, then yelped some more. “Stir this,” she instructed. “I’ll take this baby back up to her mamma.”

“I’ll take her up,” he volunteered.

Rose sent him a doubtful look. “You sure?” He already had his arms out. “Well, you did deliver her. I guess you can manage to carry her upstairs well enough.” Rose handed over the tiny pink-blanketed bundle.

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