I’m about to tell him to fuck off when Izzy turns around and sees her mom. “Leo, are you coming to dinner at my house again tonight?” Ares’s eyes grow as wide as his stupid smile. “Ummm . . .” I have no idea how I’m supposed to answer her. “Again, huh?” Ares asks just before Molly pulls her stick back to swing and hits him in the shin. “I’m going to ask my mom,” Izzy tells us before taking off at a pretty fast pace for a five-year-old. “She’s asking her mom,” my brother-in-law taunts, and I fight the urge to smack his other shin with my stick, only harder than my niece just did.
