by Claire Adams
And I only hoped that Emma had that as well. But from watching her father watch her as she scampered around through the exhibits, I found that I didn't really have any worries.
“We're going to need to build a blanket fort back at home,” I told him. “You can't go through life without having a blanket fort.”
Then, I blushed brilliantly, realizing what I had just said. “I mean, when we're back at your home. And maybe just you and Emma should focus on building the blanket fort. I guess that might be a little too intimate for us, to be together in such a small space.” I coughed uncomfortably.
“Relax,” Andrew said. “I knew what you meant. And I wasn't worried.” His phone rang just then, and he glanced over at me, a querying look on his face.
“Go ahead and answer it,” I said. “I'll keep track of Emma if you need to go someplace quieter.”
“Thanks,” Andrew said, turning partially away from me as he answered the phone. “Hey,” he said warmly to whoever it was on the other side.
He listened for a minute, walking a couple steps away from me and then half-turning towards me, as though he was about to start pacing right here in the middle of the museum. I raised an eyebrow at him and was surprised to see him blush faintly and turn away.
“I'm not home right now, babe,” he said.
Renée.
“I don't know when I'll be home today.” He paused, listening. “That's a nice idea, but I'm not at work, actually. I took the day off. No, I'm not sick.”
I wondered how he was going to explain this one to her. He was such a workaholic that there was no way she was going to buy the notion that he had just decided to take a day off work, for no reason whatsoever. The sick excuse would have been a good one if he was looking for an excuse. Otherwise, he was going to have to tell her exactly what he was up to, but I couldn't see him doing that, either.
He started to look agitated, beginning to pace and to fidget. His fingers drummed against his leg. “Look, I'm a little busy right now, so why don't I call you tonight?” he finally suggested. “I promise I'll explain everything then.” He paused. “Yes, okay. Talk to you then. Bye.”
He hung up, looking towards the sky for vindication.
“Why don't you just tell her about us?” I suggested, carefully not looking at him.
I knew, again, that I had no right to tell him how to handle his relationships. Still, I couldn't help thinking that things would be easier for both of us if he just came clean to his girlfriend about the fact that his daughter was currently living with him. Besides, it wasn't as though he could hide that forever.
Or if he could, he wasn't the kind of man who I wanted to have around my daughter.
“As I said, it's complicated,” Andrew said, frowning over at me. “I don't want to risk telling her just to potentially have everything blow up in my face.”
“It's not the media that you're worried about, is it?” I asked.
“How do you know?” Andrew asked sharply.
“Because if you were worried about being found out by the media, you probably wouldn't have come here with us today,” I pointed out. “Don't you think this little outing could seem suspicious if someone were to notice us and recognize you? You're here with a mysterious woman, not your sister, and a young girl. You know the conclusion that people would be drawing.”
Andrew was quiet for a minute.
“Look, honesty is really the only way to handle this,” I told him. “If you're not honest with her, that's how you're going to lose her.”
“And I, of course, should trust you, because you're a woman and you know these things,” Andrew said snidely. “Never mind the fact that you've never had a conversation with her, let alone dated her for a few months.”
“I'm not trying to start a fight,” I said. “Let's not do this here. But how else are you going to explain where you were today if you're not sick and you're not at work?”
“I shouldn't have to explain where I am,” Andrew said, sounding cranky. “I'm a grown man, and she's a grown woman. We should be able to do what we want to with our own time, without being subject to scrutiny by the other person. I don't ask where she is every day. I don't ask what she gets up to. For all I know, she could be fucking someone at the gym, or bringing someone home after her nights out at the bar with friends. But I trust her not to do those things, and she trusts me in the same way.”
I blinked at him, surprised that he was getting this worked up about it. He must really have feelings for the woman.
Suddenly, Andrew was off. At first, I thought he'd decided that he'd had enough and he was leaving. But when I looked, I saw that Emma was on the ground, crying loudly and holding her hands out in front of her. She had clearly fallen hard, probably tripping over her own feet in her excitement.
And Andrew was there to kiss it all better.
I watched as he knelt down next to her, concern etched in every line of his face as he inspected her hands and helped her wiggle all her fingers. Once he was satisfied that there was nothing broken, he bent down and kissed both of her palms. Then, he reached out and ruffled her hair.
Emma chirped something at him, and he threw his head back and laughed, opening his arms to her. Emma hopped up and leaped into his arms, letting him catch her.
Andrew came slowly back over to me. “Emma says she's tired and wants to go home now,” he said.
I raised my eyebrows at her in surprise, but her shriek of laughter confirmed that he was just kidding. “That's not what I said!” she giggled.
“It isn't?” Andrew asked, widening his eyes at her. “Silly me. That's what I heard.”
“I want to go play with the theater stuff,” Emma said. “Please.”
I smiled. She always did like to play dress-up. “All right, let's see if we can find that,” I said, consulting the map that they'd handed us when we came in.
“I'm gonna be a princess,” Emma announced, digging out a bright pink dress and a purple tiara. She found a golden crown and expectantly held it out to Andrew. “Come on; you have to be the prince.”
Andrew blanched, looking over at me, but I just smiled sweetly at him. “Don't look at me, I'm not going to be the prince,” I said to him.
He frowned, twirling the crown around in his hands. But then, he looked at Emma struggling into her dress, and I saw a soft smile break out on his face. He put the crown on his head and rummaged through the bin of clothes until he found a cape to wear with it.
“I guess I have to rescue you, Princess Emma?” he asked.
Emma rolled her eyes with all the self-assurance of a three-year-old. “Princess Emily,” she said.
“Should I rescue you, Princess Emily?” Andrew corrected.
“Nah,” Emma said, grinning at him and brandishing a sword. “I can fight just as good as boys. See!”
I watched them race around for a while, plastic swords in hand, until Andrew dramatically “died” when Emma slashed him across the chest. I clapped my hands as they both stood up and bowed.
Then, Emma skipped over to me, tugging at my hand. “Mama, Mama, wasn't Mr. Goldwright great?” she asked excitedly.
“He was,” I agreed, looking over to where Andrew was standing. He looked almost bashful, and I had to remind myself that this was all new for him. I smiled, hoping some of the pictures on my phone had turned out. I couldn't wait to send them to Misty.
For the first time in three years, I actually felt attracted to Andrew again. Seeing him interact with Emma like that did something inside of me. It made me want him. As he scooped Emma, sans princess costume, up into his arms, I could see his biceps flexing, and as he pulled her close and kissed her on the nose, I had a sudden flashback to the first kiss that he and I had shared.
I shivered. My body flashed hot with lust.
But then he looked over toward me, an unreadable look on his face, and I was reminded of the fact that we'd been bickering again before Emma had fallen, before we had come in here to play dress-up.
&nbs
p; I remembered that he had Renée, and these feeling of lust couldn't happen. It didn't matter that Emma was his child. He had chosen someone else, and I had to accept that. I swallowed hard, hoping I didn't look as distressed as I felt.
Fortunately, Andrew's attention was still focused on Emma. “You know what conquering princesses get as their reward?” he asked her.
“Gold?” she suggested.
“No, not gold,” Andrew said. “Something better than gold.”
“What's better than gold?”
He burst out laughing at that. “What about ice cream?” he suggested.
Emma's eyes got wide, and she looked pleadingly back at me. “Mama, can we? Can we get ice cream?”
“Sure thing, squirt, if Mr. Goldwright is offering. But just one flavor.”
“Okay!” Emma agreed, bouncing off towards the exit.
“Should I not have done that?” Andrew asked in a quiet undertone as we followed after her. “Offered ice cream, that is.”
“She's your daughter, too,” I reminded him. “I don't get to make all the decisions.”
Andrew gave me an unreadable look as he held the door open for me. “All right,” was all he said.
Chapter Twenty
Andrew
Ice cream might not have been the best decision, I reflected as I watched Emma put her sticky hands all over the interior of the car. Not that I couldn't pay to have it cleaned. I just felt bad for whoever was going to have to clean it.
I was still baffled by how much of a mess Emma had been able to create, all while still managing to get enough of the ice cream into her mouth that she was currently on a sugar high and bouncing up and down in her seat.
When we pulled up in front of my house and I opened the door, she zoomed out, quickly followed by her laughing mother. I tumbled out after them, smiling as I watched them.
Lexi was still getting on my nerves some, but I knew that she meant well. And I knew that I must be getting on her nerves as well, so we were probably even. The thing was, even as we were bickering, I was coming to find that I liked her. She was good company for a day, and with Emma in the mix as well, I had had a lot of fun at the Children's Museum. Emma was already asking when we could go back, so I considered that a success as well.
Of course, she was also planning all of my outfits for tea parties with her stuffed animals for the next fifty years, so I had a feeling that I might just come to regret this day at the Children's Museum.
I wouldn't trade it for the world.
I hummed to myself as I walked into the house. As we walked, I tried not to stare at Lexi's ass, which admittedly looked pretty fantastic in those jeans of hers. I'd been trying the whole day not to stare, but I hadn't been able to tear my eyes away a couple times. Fortunately, I didn't think that she had noticed, preoccupied with Emma each time I might have gotten caught.
“Hey Emma, what do you want for dinner tonight?” I asked as I opened the door to the house, letting us all inside.
“Pizza!” she told me enthusiastically.
I laughed, about to agree with that plan, when I realized Janice was standing there in the front hall, a pinched look on her face. Standing at her side was none other than Renée.
Renée looked livid. She definitely wasn't the classy girlfriend who I'd been dating, at that moment, but rather some sort of ugly she-wolf ready for a fight.
“What are you doing here?” I asked her.
“You've been ignoring me for weeks now,” Renée said, sounding like she didn't know whether to be angry or tearful about it. “I came to figure out what the hell you were up to. Especially since you didn't go to work today. I thought I'd find you here, maybe with some other girl, but instead, I find this.”
She scowled at Lexi. “Who the hell is she, huh?” Renée continued, her voice rising as she took a step closer to Lexi. For a moment, I thought she was going to try to pull Lexi's hair or claw her or something. As hot as that might be, I stepped protectively between the two of them.
“Calm down,” I said to Renée, my voice low and as even as I could make it.
“Calm down?” Renée snarled. “Who is she? You have five seconds!”
Behind me, I heard Emma start to cry, no doubt frightened by this strange lady who had come into the house and started yelling. I felt a surge of anger, especially when I remembered how happy we had all been as we were climbing out of the car. For Renée to take that away from Emma was inexcusable.
I managed to keep my voice level as I glanced back at Lexi. “Lexi, can you and Emma and Janice please go upstairs while I talk to Renée?” I asked.
“Okay,” Lexi said. She was barely audible, and I spared a moment to wonder why she was so scared. Did she think I was going to take Renée's side and kick her out? Didn't she realize that I could never do that to Emma? At this point, I didn't even want to think of Lexi going without a roof overhead and food on the table. But that was something to think about at another time. Right now, I needed to focus on Renée.
“Who is she?” the woman asked one more time, her voice tight with anger.
I sighed. “Let me pour you a drink,” I suggested, leading the way into the living room. Mixing the drinks was a way for me to settle myself a little and to think through what I wanted to say. Not that I really had a choice of what to say. There was no lying about Lexi now. Renée had to know that the woman meant something to me.
Maybe Lexi was right, and honesty was the best policy.
“I had a one-night stand with Lexi, years ago,” I told Renée. “Three years and nine months ago, as a matter of fact. The girl, Emma, she's our daughter.”
“You have a daughter,” Renée said flatly.
“I have a daughter,” I agreed. I took a sip of my drink, running my hand over my face. “I didn't know that when we first started dating. Actually, I just found out about Emma right before my business trip. That's why I've been so out of touch lately. I've been trying to figure things out.”
“What's there to figure out?” Renée snapped. “Do you even know if the kid is yours?”
“She's mine,” I sighed.
“You did a paternity test?”
“No, I didn't do a paternity test.” I shook my head. “She looks just like Katherine used to, though. There's no mistaking it. Besides, I don't think Lexi would lie to me. If she says that Emma must be mine, then I believe that Emma must be mine.”
“She's probably just using you for your money,” Renée spat.
It was on the tip of my tongue to point out that I was pretty sure Renée was just using me for my money, but I managed to refrain. I shrugged. “I'm enjoying getting to know Emma,” I said simply.
Renée sneered at me. “You're not a dad. You might have fathered a child, but you're not the kind of guy to stick around while the kid grows up. You're not the kind of guy to help her with her homework or plan birthday parties or any of that.”
“I'm not,” I agreed. “But I'm trying to be.”
“Why is she here all the time anyway?” Renée asked, pouting. “She was here even when you weren't here.”
“She happens to be living here at the moment,” I said. “It's a long story, but she doesn't have anywhere else to go. It's just temporary.”
I thought Renée was going to explode. “She's living here?” she snapped. “I, your girlfriend, am only allowed to come over a couple nights a week at the most, and she's living here? What the hell!”
I rubbed at my temples, feeling a migraine start to form behind my eyes. “Like I said, it's a long story. It's all an unusual situation, but I didn't know what else to do. It's not as though I've ever had to deal with this situation before.”
“I can't believe this,” Renée said. “I don't even know where to begin: with the fact that you lied to me, or the fact that that good-for-nothing, gold-digging whore is living here with you. Or the fact that you never seem to be able to find time for me, and yet today, you had no problem blowing off work to spend a whole day with her and her litt
le brat!”
“Let's not resort to name-calling,” I suggested icily. I was livid at the fact that she would call Lexi a good-for-nothing, gold-digging whore. I was even more upset by her calling Emma a brat, especially after she had scared the poor kid out in the hallway. But I was trying my best not to yell at her. I didn't want Emma to possibly overhear. I knew the place was reasonably soundproof, but all the same, I didn't want to stoop to that level.
“Some defense that is,” Renée snarled. “You've been putting off dating me all week so that you can hang out with them, and you aren't sorry at all. Not yet, anyway. But you will be. I should dump you. I deserve better than this, and you know it. I could really make you sorry.”
It was her threatening to break up with me that did it. I started laughing. “You're right, we should break up,” I said, enjoying that brief look of horror that I saw flash in her eyes.
“You're not serious,” she said, tossing her head and letting her hair swirl down behind her.
“I'm totally serious,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her. “Renée, I'm done with you.”
“You're going to choose some one-night stand over me, the woman who you've been dating for months?” Renée scoffed. “Come on. She clearly wasn't worth hanging on to three years ago. Why would you want to have her back in your life now? Sure, she had a kid, and she says the kid is yours. But who knows what the real story is. And even if that is your kid, you don't have any responsibility towards it. Just pay your child support check every month, and no one will complain. She definitely doesn't have to be living here!”
“She's a guest in my house,” I said simply, shrugging.
“She isn't welcome here,” Renée sniffed.
“You're not welcome here,” I corrected. “I'm not in love with you, Renée. I never was in love with you, and I don't think I ever will be in love with you. I wanted to be in love with you, but to be honest, at the moment, I'm having a hard time remembering why. You're selfish, and you're jealous, and you're a bitch. I don't want to see you anymore. I'm done with you.”
In retrospect, giving her a drink was a stupid decision to make. The next thing I knew, she had thrown it in my face and slammed the glass down on the wooden coffee table with enough force to shatter the glass.