“See?” she said. “Winter’s not so bad. I bet they’re selling cider at those stands. Want some cider, Randy?”
“He’s bored, Jeannie. Rather be in his room playing that goddamned game. Am I right?” He hugged the boy’s shoulder in a fatherly way. “Man up, Randy. You don’t get to do what you want every single moment of the day.”
“You say that every single moment of the day,” Randy said. “I don’t know why you can’t let me do my own thing.”
“Family time,” said his mother. “You and me and Dad.”
“He’s not my fucking dad,” said Randy.