“Don’t talk about my son like that,” I said, my voice sharper now.
The laughter around him faded slightly.
For a second, I thought he had finally realized he’d crossed a line.
He hadn’t.
He stepped closer to the cart instead of backing off, looking down at Mason with a smirk.
I moved one hand toward the cart handle.
There was something about the way he looked at Mason that made me uneasy.
It wasn’t just teasing anymore.
He seemed to enjoy knowing he had upset me.
Mason sniffled and reached toward me.
I wanted to pick him up.
At the same time, I didn’t want to make some dramatic movement that would encourage the teenager.
His friends were still watching.
None of them told him to stop.
One looked uncomfortable, but he stayed silent.
The teenager glanced toward the refrigerated shelf beside him.
Then he looked back at Mason.
