by Daya Daniels
I looked around again, taking in the furnishings and the playful art on the walls.
“I don’t understand,” I said as Ty stepped forward to take my shaky hands in his.
“It’s a house, Mads. It’s six bedrooms and five and a half bathrooms. It’s yours.”
“What?” I whispered staring at Ty.
Ty chuckled, pulling me against his chest.
“You bought this?”
He nodded only once while a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“For me?”
“Yes, Mads.”
Tears fell from my eyes that I buried in his hoodie while he held me tight.
“It’s completely furnished. You only need to bring your clothes.” He laughed.
“I want to show you something before we look around,” he said putting a set of keys in my hand.
We walked through the large kitchen and through a laundry room to a garage. I looked at Ty over my shoulder, wiping my tears while he encouraged me to walk on with the flick of his wrist.
The shiny surface of the black vehicle came into view, before I could take the entire GMC SUV in with my eyes. I turned to look at Ty, who was smiling at me.
“Your old car is gone. I wanted to get you a Range Rover but it only had five seats.”
I laughed, placing a hand in the center of my chest. “Ty, this is enough, really. Thank you.” I waved a hand around rushing towards him.
He squeezed me tight and placed a kiss to the top of my head.
“This place is in Society Hill. It’s a good neighborhood and the children don’t have to change schools,” he pointed out, which only caused me to bawl. “You’re not far from me.”
“Thank you.” I smiled looking up at him.
“Let’s look around,” he whispered.
Ty
“What’s this about you having a girlfriend, Ty?” Diana asked on the other end of the line. “With kids?”
“Yes, Mother. We will talk about it later.”
“No, Tyler, I want to talk about it now.”
I checked my watch, realizing I had a meeting in an hour I needed to prepare for.
“What about Whitney? I had lunch with her the oth—”
“Mom, I have to go.” I rushed her off the phone while taking in the beautiful view out my window at the same time.
When I spun my chair around, Dylan peeked his head inside of my door. Then he stood straight while I gestured for him to come in. I placed the receiver down and smiled looking around, wondering how on earth he got here.
“Hey, Ty,” he said scanning my office, stepping towards the large windows. “This is awesome. You work here?”
“Yeah.” I stood. “How’d you get here?”
“Zita brought me here. She’s waiting outside.”
“Your mother isn’t here?”
“No.” He pressed his forehead to the glass focusing on the street below.
“This is so cool. The people look like ants from way up here.”
“Where is your mom again?”
“Home.”
I waved Gillian away when she leaned inside the door. She smiled and then slowly backed away, closing the door behind her.
“I wanted to come here to talk to you.”
“Oh,” I said propping myself on the edge of my desk.
“Yeah,” he said facing me head-on. “To say thank you.”
I gave him a smile. “It’s no problem.”
Dylan did a shuffle/dance thing and then took a seat in one of the chairs in front of my desk, tossing his school bag down.
“I’ve been thinking about something,” he said.
“Yeah, shoot.”
“Well, I don’t have a dad, right, and you don’t have any kids.”
I laughed, almost seeing where this conversation was going.
“I won’t call you Dad or anything like that, but I was wondering if we could be friends. Like maybe you could come to some of the dad events for me and show up to my games?” Dylan fiddled with his fingers. “All the other guys’ dads show up and my mom isn’t too busy now to come but she was before but it’s still not the same, if you get what I mean.”
I gave Dylan a nod.
“Plus, I don’t want them hitting on her anyway, so I just usually tell her not to come.”
Just the thought of some other man hitting on Madison was enough to make me contemplate assault and battery, but I tried to stay focused on Dylan’s words.
“I just thought since you’re dating my mom and all, maybe you could just help me out with that,” Dylan said, taking a deep breath.
“I could probably do that.”
“Okay,” he said bobbing his head up and down a few times. “I know to you it’s not a big deal, but to me, it is and I just wanted to say thank you again. I have my own room now. I thought I was going to have to sleep on that friggin’ pullout couch forever.”
I gave Dylan a genuine smile.
“I think my mom is making pasta for dinner tonight, so I guess I’ll see you later then,” Dylan said standing.
“Yes, of course.”
“I just hope it isn’t bad like the last time.” Dylan shuddered and then broke into the Harlem Shake, meeting my eyes again. “But I eat it anyway, with a smile,” he joked.
I belted out a laugh, running a hand over my chin.
“Okay, good then. I will see you later.”
Dylan stood and stepped towards me, extending his arm for a handshake. I snorted back a laugh but obliged anyway and shook it. He gave me a wave when he reached the door and opened it. Zita poked her head in and waved and then they both were gone.
Ty
“Your mother is upset, Tyler.”
I sat with Malcolm at Lacroix Restaurant in Rittenhouse Square having a late lunch.
“Please don’t call me that,” I said to Malcolm while I put a forkful of halibut into my mouth.
“Ty,” Malcolm said slowly. “What do you expect me to tell her?”
I leveled my gaze with my father. “That it’s none of her business.”
Malcolm laughed and took another long gulp of his gin and tonic. “In an
imaginary world, where pigs fly and unicorns exist that could possibly work.”
I laughed, looking around the restaurant, taking another sip of the straight vodka in my glass.
“Who is she?”
“Her name is Madison and she’s great.”
“She has children.”
“Yes.”
“Ty,” Malcolm said sitting forward. “I thought I knew you better.”
I didn’t know what possessed my father to even claim that he knew anything about me. I dipped the tip of my fork into the broth for the fish again, tasting it, noticing the lingering flavor of garlic and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
“Ty, you could have any woman around here. They’re bloody well lining up for you. Why on earth would you pick one that has kids for Christ’s sake?”
“It just worked out that way, Dad, but it isn’t your problem.”
“Yes, Ty, I know that, but your mother and I just had a specific vision in mind when we thought about you settling down with a woman.”
“A vision,” I said resting my silverware down.
“Yes, Ty, a vision. I mean look at Whitney.”
“Whitney is a bitch, Dad.”
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, then tapped the edge of the dinner table, silently letting me know he was annoyed.
“Will we get to meet her then?”
“Yes, eventually.”
“Ty, not at your wedding. We want to meet her beforehand.”
I laughed. “Why, so you can break us up?”
He scoffed and looked away from me. “Why would you think that?”
I narrowed my eyes at my father across the table.
He lifted a finger and leaned forward. “We control your future, Ty. I don’t like hanging that small fact over your head, but we do.�
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“You don’t.”
“We do.”
I lifted a hand, asking the waitress to request the recipe for the fish broth I’d just had from the chef. She nodded her head and scampered away when she took in Malcolm’s purple face, glaring at me from across the table.
“You don’t,” I repeated, facing my father head-on. “I don’t ask for much, Malcolm.”
He jerked his head back and his mouth fell open when I addressed him by his first name.
“All I ask is to be able to live my life the way I want. I’ve done everything you and Mom have asked, all my life. Now, just this time, I’m doing what I want. You both already don’t like Madison and you haven’t even met her yet.”
“That isn’t true, Ty,” he said letting out a long breath.
“If it’s going to be that way, I’m not going to bring her around to be judged and ridiculed by you and Mom and your snooty, tight-ass, fake friends.
“That I’ve never liked, might I add.”
“Where is all this coming from?”
“You think I don’t know people will judge my relationship with Madison? I already know this, Dad, but guess what, I don’t care.”
“I was told she’s a stripper?” Malcolm whined, twisting his face, like he’d just sucked on a lemon.
“She’s a dancer and that’s exactly what I mean.” I pointed my fork at him like he was a target.
“Ty, come on. This is a joke. It’s a fucking joke, Ty.”
I laughed, taking the small note that the waitress passed me.
“Thanks,” I said meeting her eyes.
“I mean, I’ve had my fair share of strippers, but a relationship?”
“Don’t do that, Dad,” I said pointing at my father and then slamming my hand on the table, causing the silverware and dishes to rattle. “It’s not the same thing,” I hissed, lowering my voice.
“Ty, come on. Don’t make me do what you know I don’t want to do.”
I scoffed at his veiled threat. “And what is that, Dad, cut me off? Shut me out of the company?” I laughed.
“Ty.”
“Say it.”
He took a deep breath. “Yes, that. Exactly that.”
“And how do you propose to do that, Dad? I own more than half of Westwood Industries, courtesy of Grandpa, your father. You think I don’t know that?”
Malcolm’s expression turned hard. All the muscles in his neck tightened and there was a noticeable tick in his jaw.
“It might be buried under thirty years of paperwork, but I do. Apparently, your own father didn’t even like you. So, don’t threaten me.”
Malcolm held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, Tyler. Please calm down. We just want the best for you and that is Whitney.”
“Whitney,” I repeated back to him, with a mirthless laugh. “My ex-girlfriend?”
“Yes,” he said firmly, keeping his eyes trained on mine without blinking.
“That you fucked,” I added, tipping my head forward a few times.
He nearly choked on his own saliva looking at me, then shifted in his chair uncomfortably.
“Ty,” he whispered.
“You don’t have to explain, but I bet Mom would be interested to know your reasons. I could fucking care less, but I am aware,” I said taking a long sip of my vodka and placing the glass back down.
I stood from the table, leaning near my father’s ear, so only he could hear my words.
“Madison will be welcomed into this family with open fucking arms or God help me.” I took a deep breath and stood straight, adjusting my tie. “Thank you for lunch,” I said patting my father on the shoulder, before exiting.
Madison
I was told by Ty that this house didn’t cost much, but of course, I didn’t believe it. It was at least a five-million-dollar home, with hardwood floors throughout and intricate crown molding everywhere. All the fixtures were high end and so were the appliances.
The master bedroom that I now sat in, was cozy with a large fireplace that served as the focal point. A separate lounge area was at the entrance, outfitted with another small fireplace and a television before you even reached the bedroom. It was the ultimate privacy when I needed it. I had my own bed that I didn’t have to share with Kacey. At night, I shut the doors, enjoying the peace and quiet. Sometimes, I stayed up late, sitting in the small reading nook that overlooked the quiet street outside, with a book.
This house was surrounded by expensive homes and good families. The kids had already made friends with the children across the street. The five of them were probably adjusting better than I was.
This house had a separate laundry room that was the size of our old apartment, a large family room, a television and game room in the basement and a three-car garage. There was a small empty room next to the television room with wooden floors and mirrors that surrounded it, which I would use as a small dance studio. It had a shiny stripper pole just off to the left of the room. Ty said it was what sold him on the property. When he saw it, he said he knew it would be perfect.
Ty had white lines sprayed on the concrete outside and a basketball hoop installed just over the garage for the boys. In the evenings, when it wasn’t too cold they played outside before coming in for dinner. I would watch them from the kitchen window, laughing and playing, shooting free throws and trying to make jump shots. Sometimes, Ty would join them after parking his sleek Aston Martin in the garage and play in his work clothes and shiny shoes.
An older lady named Nora came to help with the kids. Kacey instantly took to Nora and by the end of the first week, they were best friends. Nora babysat whenever I needed her to and a cleaning company came twice a week to tidy up and do the heavy-duty stuff.
I filed for divorce a week ago, by advertising it in a few newspapers, which was a little embarrassing but I told myself not to care. At least, it would disconnect me from Dominic forever. It was something I should have done long before Dominic even left, since our relationship had been crumbling for years.
I didn’t know how I would ever repay Ty for all of this. I still worked at the car wash during the day but the money I made there would hardly make a dent in this ever -growing bill.
Grabbing the pasta recipe I’d just scratched down, I peeked in Mason and Sam’s room, only to find the two of them and Carter and Kacey watching a movie. I took the stairs and headed for the kitchen, pulling ingredients from the fridge and placing them on the granite countertop.
I stopped and took a deep breath, wiping my tears again. I’d cried often over the past two weeks over the simplest things in this house. I could go down the entire list—from having my own bed and private bathroom, to having a washer and dryer and a car that functioned properly.
I loved this man so much and he’d already done too much for me, for us. I never questioned our relationship or where we stood. Always, I feared that I would do something to drive him away and I already knew that I didn’t deserve him. Ty could do better.
When the water came to a boil, I cracked the pasta and threw it in, stirring it a few times with a drop of oil. I let my mind wander and think about all the things I’d imagined doing since I was a girl. At one time, they seemed like dreams that had dried up and blown away. Now, maybe I could breathe life into them once again. I could start again...
I got to work on the chicken in a pan and then poured some heavy cream, grated cheese, and parsley into it, stirring it a few times with salt and pepper. The pasta had come to a boil, which I quickly drained. I opened the prepackaged garlic bread and put it in the oven. Then I mixed the pasta in the large pan of sauce and chopped chicken. It all smelled mouthwatering.
Warm hands wrapped around my middle and a stubble-covered jaw nuzzled into my neck from behind.
“Hey, Madison,” Ty said.
“Hey, I didn’t know you were here.”
“I just came in. It’s almost Thanksgiving.”
“I know.”
“And then it will be Christmas.�
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“Yeah, I know,” I said giving the pan of pasta one more stir.
“This smells delicious.”
“Thanks, are you hungry?”
“Of course, if you made it.”
“What did you do today?”
“The usual bullshit, you know.”
I laughed, inhaling the remnants of Ty’s cologne on his skin. He swatted my ass, before I moved across the kitchen. Ty took a seat in a stool to the center island and removed his tie and jacket.
Tiny footsteps across the floor caused us both to look in their direction.
“Hey, Ty,” Kacey said climbing up in the stool next to him and then making her way in his lap.
“Hey, Kacey,” Ty said.
Kacey grinned, looking between both of us and then back up to Ty. “Can you be my new daddy?”
I nearly dropped the pan of sauce on the floor. “Kacey,” I scolded.
“What, Mommy? My real daddy doesn’t want me.”
“Kacey,” Ty said sternly to her. “Of course, he wants you. We don’t want you ever to think that.”
“Well why’d he leave, then?” she asked pouting.
“I don’t know, Kacey,” Ty said softly, running a hand over her brown curls. “I don’t know, but your daddy loves you. You shouldn’t ever forget that, okay?”
“Okay,” Kacey answered in her tiny voice, giving us both a look that cracked my heart.
“What’s for dinner, Mommy?” Kacey asked, suddenly brightening again.
“Pasta,” I said.
She clapped her hands and jumped out of Ty’s lap, running off back with the boys.
“I’m sorry,” I said scrunching my nose at Ty.
He scrubbed his face with his hands and then dropped his head, shaking it a few times. “I don’t even know this guy, Mads, and I fucking hate him already—allowing his little girl to feel like that.”
I took a deep breath and plated some pasta, putting it in front of Ty and then put the rest onto separate plates.
“Thanks,” Ty said taking a few bites with his eyes closed.
I giggled at his apparent appreciation for my cooking, which at times left much to be desired.
“This is good, Mads,” he said.
“Merci.”