Thanks everyone for your really kind comments and reviews. Again, you make my day! You're all so kind and I'm excited that people like this story since this is new for me. I'm having a lot of fun with it, and I wish I could thank you all individually. I'm sorry I didn't include any comments in the last chapter—I was really rushed to get it up and didn't have time to write comments and get the update up, but wanted to give you all something to read! Here is chapter 7, enjoy!

Chapter 7

"Bobby Mercer, you finally show up."

Bobby looked up from the stove at Evelyn and grinned. It was always relieving to see her even if nothing was wrong. He smiled at her yellow blouse and jeans as she was like sunshine that morning. The best woman in the world.

"Hey ma." He glanced at his scrambled eggs one last time before putting down the spatula and walking over to give her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. "How are you?"

"I was hoping I'd see you last night," she said as she squeezed him tightly. "Let me look at you." She took a step back and kept her hands on his forearms. "Show me all your teeth."

Bobby grinned at her and laughed. "Ma, hockey's not going to kill me. Besides if I lose teeth, I'll look tougher. Especially a front one." He tapped at one of his front teeth emphatically.

"You better not loose any teeth, Bobby," she replied, letting go of him. "You know how much you hate the dentist."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm in perfect shape, ma. Not a scratch. These league punks… I can take any one of them."

She shook her head. "That's what I'm afraid of, Bobby."

"If people don't want a physical sport, then those pixies can go play ballet or something."

"Ballet's not a sport."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, ma. You get my point." He rolled his eyes. "Besides, it's been three weeks or something. You act like it's been a year. I'm the same as you last saw me."

"No trouble?"

"Now what kinda trouble could I get myself into in three weeks?" He turned back to his eggs and picked up the spatula, moving them around in the frying pan to make sure they weren't burning. "You underestimate me, ma."

"Oh, is that so, Bobby? I know a parole officer that might think differently." She smiled at him and was met with his impish grin.

"Oh is that so? Well, sorry to disappoint. No trouble that I'm aware of anyway. Living trouble that is."

"Bobby Mercer."

He laughed. "Ma, I'd let you know if I'd happened to kill anybody, I promise."

She just shook her head. "You'll be the death of me, Bobby."

"Aw, don't say that, ma. You want any eggs?" he asked. "I'm kind of making enough for a small army. Not that I won't eat all of them otherwise. By the way we're out of eggs now."

"A very small army considering the way you and your brothers eat. And don't worry about it, I'm going to the store later anyway. Angel and Jerry have devoured everything. Even the fat free stuff."

"Why aren't they up? Don't they want to see their big brother?" Bobby replied. "Didn't you tell them I was gonna be back in town?"

"Yes, dear, but you also said you'd be back in town last night. You don't expect them to actually wake up early. That's unheard of."

"It's not early. I shouldn't even be up considering the sleep I got. And I was in last night," he retorted. "Technically anyway. You want any eggs?"

"No thanks, I'm fine," she replied. "Thank you though. I'm putting on some coffee too." She moved towards the counter to get the coffee pot. "What time did you get in last night?"

"Really late. I don't even want to tell you, because you'll be pissed that I was even on the road then. But I got a late start and was held up, so—"

"It's not like you're far away. You could have—"

"See there you go, ma," he laughed. "I know what I could've done, but I already did something else, right? And I'm here."

"That you are."

Bobby lowered the heat a little bit on the stove so that the eggs would cook slower. He had a feeling he would be waking people up to eat them before they got cold. In actuality, he would probably be eating all of them before any else came downstairs though, and he didn't mind that at all. He had a good appetite in the morning.

"So, what about you, ma? How's your new project?" he asked.

"Project?" Evelyn echoed. She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. "Bobby, are you calling Jack my new project?"

"That's what he is, right?" Bobby teased. "What, Angel and Jer not giving you enough trouble?"

"Speaking of Angel and Jerry," she replied, "you should explain to them the dangers of indoor hockey. I just can't seem to get it across."

"Ma, you know damn right I'm a strong supporter of indoor hockey," he objected.

She sighed. "Oh, Bobby, why do I even bother with you?"

He walked over to give her another kiss on the forehead. "Because you know I love you and all your crazy projects, ma."

She slapped his arm. "Bobby Mercer. If I hear you call him a project one more time…"

He returned to his eggs, rolling his eyes. "Oh, there's lots of things I could call somebody, ma. I'm sure project is the least of them."

"Please, Bobby. You haven't even met him yet. Let's leave the teasing for after he's settled in, alright?" she replied as she filled the coffee machine with water.

"I met him."

She frowned, turning to look at him. "You met Jack? How, Bobby?"

He raised his eyebrows and leaned against the stove, delighted to know something his mother didn't. "Well, you can thank me now or later, but your project was planning to take a little late night walk, so to speak, and I just happened to run into him."

Bobby left out the fact that Jack had been looking to steal money from her, with his bag waiting by the door for a quick retreat. She didn't need to know that much, at least yet.

"Already," she said with a sigh. "I was afraid of that."

"Aren't you going to thank me?"

She smiled. "No, Bobby."

He rolled his eyes. "Only because you think it'll bother me. But it won't."

"Not thanking you will?" she laughed. "Well what do you think?" she asked, ignoring his frown as she replaced the filter of the coffee machine and plugged it in.

Bobby was the oldest of her sons, more mature now despite his constant teasing, and while his legal record continued to by speckled by the results of his eternal recklessness and impulsiveness, she trusted him immensely. Angel and Jerry trusted him immensely. She knew he considered himself the man of the house.

"What do I think? I think you should thank me," he answered.

She laughed again. "No, Bobby. Get over that. What do you think of Jack."

Bobby ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. He remembered his late night, which should have just involved a couple beers and sleep, and tried to make some conclusions about the kid he had frightened.

"I dunno, ma. He's young," he answered. "Skittish. It was really kind of a bizarre meeting, so I don't really know if had the best first impression. I think he'll keep you busy."

She nodded. "And you."

"Me? Ma…" He shook his head. "No. I'm—"

"Going to be around more," she reminded him. Bobby had already promised her this recently, and Jack was the perfect excuse to reinforce the promise.

"I know I said that," Bobby objected. "But I have…" He looked at his mother. It was really hard to argue with her. Especially when you'd promised. To be the cause of a look of disappointment on Evelyn Mercer's face was almost worse than a physical blow. And Bobby began to feel that guilt. "I didn't feel very patient last night, ma. I can't promise that—"

"What do you have going on that is going to change things, Bobby?" she asked. "It can't be the hockey that will keep you."

"I'm just busy, ma."

"With what? If you can't tell me, then we have something else to talk about, if that's the case."

"It's not anything in particular going on…" he persisted.

"Then?"

"I have no patience for kids right now. And I know that sounds selfish, but—"

"Bobby, you do. You have plenty of patience when you use your head. And you should use your head."

"You are impossible to argue with."

"I know. Don't burn your eggs, Bobby."

"I'm not," he answered, looking at them again to make sure. "It's slow."

"You want to wake up your brothers? And that includes your new one."

Bobby watched his mother spoon coffee grounds into the filter and sighed. "I will. Just tell me this. Where's Jack coming from?"

"He's a complicated one, Bobby. I'll give you that. But I'll talk to you in private later, because it's really not time now. Want to wake up the boys? I'll watch your eggs."

He nodded, trying not to roll his eyes. No use in arguing that they were actually having a private conversation and currently were the only two in the kitchen, a perfect time to talk. His mother had her own agenda for a reason and he wouldn't fight it. He was, however, curious about how complicated this kid was.