by Lisa Lace
Rory is still talking on his phone. His voice is rising. He’s obviously upset with whoever he’s talking to. He’s not watching his daughter.
Luckily, I am. I watch as she wanders away from the kiddies’ pool toward the adult one. She swings her arms back as if she’s going to jump, then startles when I blow my whistle loudly and tell her to stop. The shrillness of my whistle makes Rory frown and press his hand down harder over his ear, wandering off in the opposite direction.
I dismount from the podium and walk over to the little girl.
“Hello, sweetheart. What’s your name?”
She looks nervous. She bows her head and scrunches her toes up into the poolside tiles. “Grace.”
“You know that’s the adult pool, right, Grace? It’s very deep.”
“I swim really well.”
I smile. “I bet you do. Still, you have to be a bit older to go in that one. Where’s your mom or dad?”
I still can’t believe Rory Everest would be out in a public family waterpark with his daughter. I didn’t think it was his scene.
Yet Grace points straight to him. “That’s my daddy.”
“Uh-huh. Shall we go say hello?”
Grace nods and I place my hand on her shoulder, leading her through the crowd and back toward Rory. He’s finally finished his phone call and has noticed Grace is gone. He’s at the other side of the children’s pool now, looking frantic and calling her name.
“Daddy!” Grace runs toward him.
I follow a step behind, my arms folded over my swimsuit. I feel exposed in the red lycra. Every curve of my body is on display.
“Mr. Everest,” I say, but Rory’s attention is entirely on his daughter.
Rory is hugging Grace tightly to him and yelling at the same time. “What did I tell you about staying close to Daddy when he’s on his phone? You can’t wander off like that. I was scared. I thought I’d lost you.”
He spots me and his expression changes. He clears his throat, standing up slowly. “You found her?”
“She was about to jump into the deep end of the adult pool,” I say. I feel satisfied to have the chance to dress him down. The article I wrote didn’t scratch the surface of how long I could moan about Rory Everest. Someone needs to knock him down a peg or two. “You should keep a better eye on her. A waterpark can be a dangerous place. Kids need constant, undivided adult supervision.”
“Miss Sawyer.” I can hear the distaste in his voice. He pulls Grace closer to him, like I might bite, and stands his ground, staring at me coldly. “I read your article.”
“You mean the one for the crappy gossip site?” I try not to let a smirk spread over my face. “I guess you didn’t expect so many people to be interested in what I had to say.”
“It’s trash.” He scowls. “It had no substance whatsoever. It was just Elise Sawyer having a rant about how some guy didn’t bend over backward for her. Do you even have any idea how I busy I am? Do you know how valuable fifteen minutes of my time is? I don’t have time to pander to every wannabe journalist who walks through my doors.”
“People liked my article because I told the truth. Every other person who’s written a gossip piece on you has gone on and on about how handsome you are and how much money you have. I took it in a different direction. I told those pining women exactly what a self-centered, arrogant jerk you are. Maybe now they’ll spend their time fantasizing about someone who isn’t a class-A pr—” I almost call him a prick but remember that his daughter is still standing in front of us. I clear my throat. “You’re a jerk. I wrote what I found.”
Even as I’m laying into him, I’m trailing my eyes over his body. His skin is tan, his muscles toned. He could be the center page model for any fashion magazine. It’s hard to hold my temper when someone as sexy as Rory is my target, but that’s exactly why I have to stand my ground. I bet far too many people let Rory get away with murder just because he’s a devilishly handsome man.
“You don’t know the first thing about me,” Rory counters. “You come into my office, waste my time with mindless dating questions, then pry into a past I’m trying to leave behind.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know why I’m having a conversation with you. Why should I care what a”—he looks me up and down and scoffs—“lifeguard thinks about me?”
I stamp my foot down on the ground. “Thank God I’m a lifeguard. Otherwise, your daughter could be drowning in the deep end!” I point at the adult pool. “You’re a horrible person, and a terrible father.”
Rory leans down toward Grace. “Take a couple dollars, sweetie. Go get an ice-cream while Daddy talks to his friend.”
He stays silent until she’s out of earshot, then takes a step closer, holding up a finger toward me. “Don’t you dare talk about what type of father I am. You have no idea. You don’t know the first thing about me or what I’ve done for my daughter.”
“The daughter you try to hide from everyone? What is it? Are you ashamed of her? Does she cramp your bad boy image?”
His hands clench into fists. He turns away from me for a second to get his temper back under control, then looks back at me. If looks could kill.
“I protect her.” He holds my gaze. “She’s seven years old. She’s too young to be exposed to the press and media. I don’t let her be brought up in interviews, and I don’t let her read any articles about me. Imagine what she would have thought if she read the article you wrote in Us Weekly. Her friends have parents who read too, you know. I’m doing my best not to ostracize or hurt my daughter. Leeches like you don’t realize that I have a life.”
I feel guilty. Rory is right. I didn’t think for a second about what effect my words might have on Grace. As she gets older, it will be hell for her to see her father dragged through the mud in gossip magazines and on TV. She’s probably already starting to get the sense that people don’t like her Daddy.
I nod. “You’re right, I didn’t think. Still, that article would never have happened if you hadn’t treated me like dirt. Some of this is on you, Rory. You can’t treat everyone like they’re beneath you. Keep a better eye on Grace. The water park is a big place.”
With those closing words, I turn on my heel and walk back to my podium. My blood is coursing hot with adrenaline. I can feel my skin growing clammy from a nervous sweat. I can’t believe I just gave a piece of my mind to Rory Everest.
He and Grace leave soon after. I hope he thinks about what I said. She seems like a very sweet little girl. It’s a shame her father is such a cold and callous human being.
Rory
Everything Elise said plays on my mind all day in a constant, nagging loop. It gets to the point where Grace starts to ask me if something is wrong. I realize that I have to forget the conversation and focus on the present.
Despite my best efforts, though, I’m seething. What does Elise know? I changed my life for Grace. I would die for her.
Being the media’s villain can get draining.
To make things worse, even though I’m pissed as hell with this woman, I keep thinking about her body in that red swimsuit. She’s a bombshell. A gossiping, meddling bombshell.
By the time we arrive home, I have a migraine, pressure building steadily behind my eyes and at my temples. I’m ready for a hot shower and a cold drink. Grace goes upstairs and plans to read her book until dinnertime.
I pour myself a cold glass of lemonade with plenty of ice and head straight to the library. I’m going to read a few chapters of Steve Jobs’ autobiography and then crash.
At least, I would have, if Alice hadn’t come into the room at that very moment looking shaken and nervous.
“Good evening, Alice,” I say. “Is everything all right?”
“I don’t know how to tell you this,” she stammers. “The phone rang earlier. I didn’t get to it in time. It went straight to voicemail.”
“What’s the problem? I’m capable of pushing the play button. Did you hear who it was?”
“That’s the thing, Rory.
It was Margot.”
The sound of her name makes me feel sick to my stomach. Margot is my ex-lover and Grace’s biological mother. I haven’t seen or heard from her in seven years. If she’s crawled out of the woodwork now, it won’t be for anything good.
“What did she say?”
“I think you should listen for yourself.”
Without a word, I follow Alice briskly down the hall toward the kitchen where the phone is situated. The voicemail is beeping. I stride across to the handset and play the recording.
Margot’s voice echoes through the room.
“Hello? Rory? It’s Margot.” A pause. “I hope this is the right number. You haven’t been easy to track down, but it’s time for us to talk. I’ve gone long enough without seeing my daughter. Things have changed. I want her back, and I’m talking with a lawyer. You should be hearing from him soon. I want full custody of Grace.”
I stare at the handset in disbelief. “That’s it? ‘I want full custody’? Who does she think she is? This is absurd.”
Alice places a hand gently on my shoulder. “I was as shocked as you are.”
“I doubt it,” I say, my voice gravelly from shock and rage. “I thought she was dead.”
“Rory—”
“She was a drug-addled junkie when I last saw her. She was only one fix from an overdose back then. When she abandoned Grace on the day she was born and disappeared off the face of the planet, I assumed she’d gone back to her old ways. I didn’t think I’d ever see or hear from her again.”
“What are you going to do?”
“What kind of a question is that?” I shrug. “There’s no way in hell Margot is ever going to get custody of Grace. Grace has never met her. They don’t have a relationship. Even if they did, Margot would be a terrible mother. She doesn’t have the means to fight a long, drawn-out custody battle. She’ll fold in the first week of proceedings.”
“You sound pretty confident.”
“Why shouldn’t I be?”
Alice bites her lip. “Don’t you think she must have something up her sleeve, to be doing this after all this time? If she wanted to, she could have fought for Grace long before now.”
“The fact of the matter is, I’m Grace’s father. I’ve been there for her since the day she was born. I’ve cared for her. She’s wanted for nothing. She’s a happy, playful little girl. Just as she should be.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. I know that. Of course, you are. You’re a wonderful father, Rory.”
“I don’t know what Margot is thinking to threaten legal action against me. She doesn’t have a leg to stand on.”
Even though I know what I’m saying is true, I can’t help but feel uneasy. Alice is right, after all. Margot has had seven years to fight me for custody, but she hasn’t lifted a finger to try and initiate contact with Grace.
Why now?
Alice puts her hand gently on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m fine.” I delete the message. It’s the closest I can get to erasing her from my life. “I’m sure nothing will come of it anyway. Margot’s probably trying to get me to pay her off. She’ll have forgotten all about it in a week.”
“I hope so,” Alice says. “Grace belongs here.” She pauses for a moment. “Will you be all right if I go up to bed?”
“Of course I will, Alice. I’m a big boy.”
She nods. “I’ll see you in the morning. You know where I am if you need me.”
Alice is sweet, but she’s wrong. What would I have to worry about? Margot is a heroin-addicted nobody, and I’m the clean and sober CEO of Everest Games Inc. Maybe we were both once down in the gutter together, but times have changed. I’ve changed.
I’ve spent every ounce of my energy over the last six years committing to becoming someone different. I haven’t taken a sip of alcohol, and I haven’t smoked so much as a single joint. I’ve been on the straight and narrow since the day Grace came into this world.
After Alice goes to bed, I go up to Grace’s room. She’s playing with her Nintendo Switch on a bed of stuffed animals in the corner of her room. Her legs are balanced on her bookshelf as she lies back.
“Grace? What have I told you about putting your feet on the furniture?”
She lets her feet flop down onto the floor. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you playing?”
“Mind Games.”
“Mind Games? That’s practically an intellectual pursuit. You didn’t want to play Pokémon again?”
“I’m trying to get to the next level.”
“Do you want some help?”
She beams from ear to ear. “Okay.”
I join Grace on her pile of animals, sitting between my little girl and a bug-eyed stuffed bear. I find it hard to concentrate on the screen and the puzzles and riddles that are popping up. Instead, I’m focusing on her. I’m cherishing the way it feels to be snuggled up with her in a sanctuary, enjoying each other’s company. I’m memorizing the way she smells and committing to memory the way she looks right now. One day she’ll be all grown up, and I’ll miss these moments.
Margot must be out of her mind, thinking she could ever take Grace away from me.
I’m looking forward to hearing from her lawyer. Hopefully, one angry conversation from me will be all it takes to make him reject her case and move on. Anyone with sense should know it’s a waste of time representing Margot.
Right?
Elise
I stare at my blue-and-white-striped duffle bag, stuffed with clothes and a few personal items. It’s shoved into the corner of my best friend Dayna’s living room. I’ve been sleeping on her couch for the last three weeks, ever since I got evicted from my apartment.
A new bill has come in today, as promised by the receptionist. Mom’s care home costs almost $3,000 a month. Some of that is covered by Medicaid, but the rest I have to pay out of pocket. The entire income from my day job goes toward keeping her afloat, but I’m still sinking into debt. Just last week I had to sell my car to save on insurance and the cost of gas so I could pay my phone bill.
I’m drowning in debt.
Dayna is sitting beside me, rubbing my shoulder as I cry my eyes out. She’s been a godsend since Dad died.
I sniff and try to wipe away my tears, but they keep flowing as quickly as I run my sleeve across my eyes. “I can’t believe Dad would do this to us. He told Mom he had a life insurance policy.”
“I know.” Dayna’s eyes are full of sympathy. She knows how hard it’s been for me, bearing the financial burden of my Dad’s death and Mom’s illness on my own. “Look, Michael and I have some savings. If you need to borrow a few hundred bucks to see you through the month, we’re here for you.”
I cut her off. “No way. You’ve already done enough. You’re keeping a roof over my head and making sure I stay off the streets. There’s no way I’m going to take your money, too.”
“That’s what friends are for, Elise.”
“That’s what banks are for.” I choke back my tears and clear my throat. “I’ll get a new credit card. That will buy me a couple of months with the care home.”
Dayna creases her face in concern. “Oh sweetie, that’s not a long-term solution. You’ll just be getting into more debt. It’s better for you to take some money from us, rather than using credit and pay interest through the roof.”
“No.” I hold up my hand. “God knows I appreciate it, Dayna, but I can’t accept any more.” I smile, teary-eyed. “You’re a good friend.”
Dayna is beautiful. She has jet black hair that falls just below her shoulders, straightened until it shines like silk. She is Middle Eastern, and her skin has the most gorgeous glow. She works as a hairdresser in the city. She even went so far as doing my hair for free. She’s done more than I could ever ask of a friend.
I let out a slow breath, pushing back my hair as I gather up my paperwork. “I couldn’t earn the rent and watch Mom at the same time. I’m not going to leave her on h
er own.”
“You’re right,” Dayna reassures me. “She would have hurt herself.”
“I thought I could do it all, but after the fire, I knew she needed someone to be watching her all the time. I couldn’t have a job and be that person. There was no way I could afford someone else to watch her, either.”
“You don’t have to explain to me, sweetie,” Dayna says. “You made the right choice.”
“I hope so.” Logically, I know there was no way I could care for my mother full-time and work fifty hours a week, but there’s still a part of me that feels guilty for being a bad daughter. I wanted to care for her myself, and I’ve hardly been able to put her up in the Ritz. I have to focus on the floor every time I go to visit her because I might cry if I start looking around and see how run-down and depressing the home is. It’s all I can afford.
I stuff the bills into my purse. “If Dad had left an insurance policy, the house would have been paid off, then I could have done freelance work and been at home for her. But Dad didn’t think about that kind of stuff. Just like he didn’t think about using credit card after credit card to buy stuff he didn’t need. All those things got repossessed or we had to sell the second he died.” I sigh heavily. “It’s been such an uphill struggle.”
“I don’t think he expected to go as soon as he did,” Dayna says. “Maybe he thought there was still time.”
“He was sixty-two with a bad heart. He’d already had one heart attack. How much of a warning did he need?” I close my eyes to let my temper dissipate. “I loved my Dad, but he’s left Mom and me with a whole load of nothing. It’s my responsibility to take care of her, and it’s hard when you’ve got nothing to your name.”
“You’re doing everything you can for her.” Dayna squeezes my wrist. “She knows that.”
“Mom doesn’t even know who I am anymore,” I say, tearing up again as I remember her blank look from this morning.
Dayna wraps her arms around my neck and holds me in a sisterly hug. “I’m sorry things are so tough right now. They will get better.”