So far, Miranda is raising Waylon, the son of her ex-lover, Dougie. Now, Dougie has returned and Miranda thinks he's come back for the boy. She talked to Waylon's teacher and may have aggravated the situation.

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I start walking to the mailbox when Mitch goes inside. I can hear the raised voice of Waylon but can't really decipher what he's saying. All I can tell is he is pissed. I kick the granite stones as I walk. I hope Mitch can get through to him, but I have my doubts. Of all times for Aaron to be gone. He could talk some sense into Waylon.

"That boy has a real attitude, Miranda," Mrs. Fine says. "Somebody needs to snuff that out."

I shake my head. "Not now, Mrs. Fine."

"You got to be firm with that kid. He already has one strike against him with that deadbeat daddy of his."

I look over, watching the smoke as it dances around her head. "I don't know anything about raising kids, especially teen aged boys. I'm realizing I'm in over my head."

Mrs. Fine cocks one eyebrow and shakes her head. "Kids are like animals. You have to set the limits and make sure they bathe, do their homework, go to bed, all the things that come natural to you and me. You can't be their friend."

"I blew it today. I thought I was helping but I didn't. He's pissed at me, Mitch is saying I told you so. I feel like shit right now. I can't do anything right."

Mrs. Fine flicks her cigarette an inch away from my face. "Oh, for Pete's sake. Quit feeling sorry for yourself. Parenting is all about making mistakes. Stop whining and go back inside and talk to him."

I look back at the trailer. It's now or never. I forget about the mail and quickly head back. I stomp up the stairs and grab the door handle.

"Thanks, Mitch, I can handle it from here."

Mitch holds up his hands and backs up towards the door. "I'm gonna head on out. You two play nice. I don't want a call about domestic disturbance after I leave." He looks at Waylon and then at me. "I'll call you later."

I wait until I hear Mitch start his car before I speak. "Look, I did what I thought was the right thing, Waylon."

"I asked you not to. You knew I didn't want you to confront him."

"I didn't confront him. I talked to him. Why would you say I confronted him?"

"First, that was his description of it. Second, I've seen you in action."

I blew out an exasperated breath. "Waylon, I'm sorry. If I could go back in time, I would drive off and let you handle it." I look around the room, and somehow it feels smaller than before. Anger and resentment seem to be talking up all of the room. "That's not exactly true. I'm not your mom or you're aunt. There is no blood between us, but I love you. I hate to see you get hurt. So, I probably wouldn't change anything."

He says nothing, just sits on the couch staring at the blank television screen. "I know you do. But, I'm almost seventeen. I don't need you to fight my battles for me. Especially not with him."

I clasp my hands and nod. "Noted."

"He did change my nickname."

"What was your nickname?"

"Mr. Tomlin called me Dougie's boy. Now he calls me Momma's boy."

I close my eyes and try not to react. I really don't like Mr. Tomlin. And knowing I can't do anything about it is eating away at me. "Tell him to stop." I offer.

Waylon shakes his head. "I don't open my mouth in that class. He's already tossed a couple of people out."

His brow isn't furrowed anymore and his voice is regulated so I think the storm has passed. "Are we good?" I ask.

He nods. "Close, but I think Patterson deli will smooth everything over."

I sigh and grab my keys off the counter. "Come on. You are a shrewd negotiator, you know that right?"

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The phone is ringing as I get the front door unlocked. "Grab that will you, Waylon?" I ask as he slips past me.

"Hello?" he says, his voice deep and confident.

I'm putting my pocketbook on the counter and taking off my jacket when I hear this strangled cry come from Waylon.

"Dad? Is it really you?"

My dinner does a sudden lurch as I process his words. He looks so happy and relieved. I step back out on the porch, giving Waylon his privacy. Five minutes later he comes outside. "It was my dad. He's back in town. He's coming by after school tomorrow. I can't believe I'm finally going to see him. After all this time."

I know he's happy. This is the one thing he's been dreaming of for two years, I get it. But where is the anger? Where are the questions about where the hell has Dougie been all this time? I'm pissed that Dougie will get off scot free. "That's awesome, Waylon." I walk over and hug him. "I'm so happy for you."

He can't stop smiling. "I'm gonna finish my homework then take a shower. Night, Miranda. Thanks for dinner."

I nod and go into my room. I need to talk to someone who will understand how I'm feeling. I need to talk to my momma.