by Lily Foster
“You have a mommy, Olivia. Just because she’s not here with you doesn’t mean she’s not your mom. Just like my mom. She’s not here with me anymore but she’ll always be my mother.” She doesn’t say anything but I can feel her head nodding against my middle. “So I’ll see you tomorrow after school, ok?”
“You have to go?”
I roll my eyes and frown, heavy on the drama. “I have to do my homework and I have two tests this week. I need to study.” Standing up, I reach for her hand. “Let’s go to Dad’s workshop so we can tell him I’m heading out.”
I open the door to the garage. “Leo?”
He’s leaning against his latest project, some classic Volkswagen van he’s retrofitting with an electric motor. He doesn’t have a tool in his hand. He’s not even looking at the plans that are laid out on the work table. No, he’s just staring at the wall, lost in thought.
“Leo? Um, I’m getting ready to go.”
“Oh, hey. Right. Yeah, all right. Thanks for everything.”
“Thank you. You were so great with James. You saved me last night.”
Normally Leo would say something reassuring or he’d brush the compliment off. But he says nothing. He’s not even listening to me right now.
“Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“Uh, you know what…I’ll get Olivia tomorrow after school. You’ve got finals this week, don’t you?”
“Yes, but I’ve got it under control.”
“You can take the entire week off if you want.”
“No…I mean, I don’t need time off.”
“Let’s just make plans for Tuesday then, ok?”
I feel like something is happening, but it’s happening so fast that I can’t make sense of it. “Yeah, I’ll see you Tuesday at around ten-thirty.”
His face is tight when he nods his head. “Good.”
Maureen comes to relieve me Tuesday at dinnertime, not Leo.
“He said he has a thing with his friend Ed on campus.” She lifts the lid off the pan on the stovetop. “Well, didn’t I luck out tonight, Olivia? What did you two whip up today?”
“Chicken,” Olivia answers with no enthusiasm.
“Libs,” I force a cheery tone, “you’ve got to sell it. Chicken marsala with mushrooms and green onions over some yummy buttery noodles with parsley.”
“And there’s brussel sprouts,” she adds with a pout.
“I happen to love brussel sprouts. And this smells fantastic.” Looking to me, Maureen says, “Aren’t you staying for dinner?”
I’ve already got my coat on. “Not hungry and I’ve got a final tomorrow. Gotta hit the books.”
I’m not hungry but it’s only because my stomach is in knots. Did the teacher talk to Leo yesterday? Is he mad about the whole Libs calling me mom thing? I would have told him but when I was leaving on Sunday he was acting weird, and I figured I had it under control anyway. Olivia seemed like she understood.
I lean in to give Olivia a kiss goodbye. “Wish me luck on my test, Libs. I’m off to the library.”
“Good luck.”
Her mood is off too. It’s like there’s a gray cloud hanging over this house. I look over to see this hasn’t affected Maureen, though. She whistling a tune as she helps herself to a portion so big that I’m thinking there won’t be much left over for Leo when he gets in.
Feeling kind of ornery as I walk out the door, I whisper so no one else can hear, “Serves him right.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Leo
“You can cover Friday night? Sure it’s no problem?”
“I’ve got nothing on my busy social calendar this Friday. But Saturday is a no can do. I have a date.”
“Good for you.”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t patronize me like I’m some old lady and the idea of me dating is amusing to you in some way.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Yes, Leo, you were.” Tossing the container of ice cream into the trash, the one that was full when I left this morning, she adds, “You could learn a few things from the gentlemen I date.”
Here we go.
“You need to get out there. It’s not natural, a young, good looking man like yourself without a partner. I’m not telling you to run out and find yourself a wife. I’m just saying…Put yourself out there for heaven’s sake!” Turing to check herself out in the mirror she says, “Take it from me, if you don’t use it you lose it.”
Great, now I’ve got a visual of Maureen and some elderly dude doing the deed.
I raise my chin, gesture in Olivia’s direction. “I’ve got other priorities.”
“You think you’re doing her any favors? Men who don’t,” she lowers her voice, “satisfy their needs tend to be miserable and grumpy. I’d say you fit that description.”
I’m biting my tongue to keep myself from telling her to shut her trap. And while she fully deserves it, Momma didn’t raise me that way. “Thanks for your concern, really, but I’m doing just fine.” I don’t know why I feel the need to add, “You’ll be happy to know that I need you to babysit Friday night because I actually do have a date.”
Her eyes light up. “I knew it! You’re finally taking Skylar out?”
“What?”
“You know, Skylar, the very attractive young woman who spends a whole lotta time in your home. Ring a bell?”
“She, she…”
“She what?”
“Skylar works for me. That’s all. I don’t think of her that way. And what’s the matter with you, Maureen?”
“Nothing the matter with me,” she says before picking a wayward cookie crumb off her shirt and popping it into her mouth. “Just pointing out what you’re too blind to see.”
“You’re way off base.” I check my watch then, hoping she’ll get the hint that I want her gone.
She chuckles. “Don’t get you undies in a twist. All right, I’m outta here. See you soon, kiddo.”
Olivia barely turns her head away from the television when she mutters back, “Bye.”
“Come on, Libs. Time for your bath.”
She trudges up the stairs in silence and continues to sulk even though I dump nearly a full container of Mr. Bubble into the bath water.
“Is tomorrow school?”
“Yep. Wednesday is a school day.”
“I don’t wanna go to school.”
“Why not? You love school.”
“I hate it!” She slaps both hands into the water, sending little bubbles flying everywhere. “I hate school! I hate it!”
And then the tears come, angry and fast.
“Shh, shh. Hey, tell me what’s going on. You always tell me you have so much fun in school.”
Her face is red and splotchy when she cries out, “I don’t have a mom!”
And I fall back onto my ass from where I’m crouched down because I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this upset. Her cries turn into hiccups as I drain the water and rinse her off, all the while telling her it’s all right, trying and failing to make her feel better.
She’s quiet as I get her into her pajamas and so am I.
Mother’s Day is a week from this Sunday. It’s never come up before. On Mother’s Day we usually video chat with my mom and call it a day.
We don’t do any kind of memorial for Carrie, and now I’m thinking maybe that’s been a mistake. I’ve never even gone to her see her gravesite since they put in the headstone. She’s buried in Cincinnati, and there’s nothing in that city for me except a mother-in-law I hope to never lay eyes on again.
Tucking her in and pushing her damp hair back behind her ears I ask, “Are the kids making cards and stuff for Mother’s Day?”
“Sarah says I don’t have a mudder.”
“Sarah’s a jerk…I mean, that wasn’t very nice of her to say. You do have a mother, she just happens to be in heaven. That boy in your class, Evan? His dad is in heaven too. I wonder if he gets sad around Father’s Day.”
She nods her head an
d sniffles. “And Nolan only has a grandma and a grandpa.” Olivia fists the blankets in her little hands. “I made a card and I planted the flower seeds in the pot, but Sarah said I can’t give it to Sky cause she’s not my mom.”
“You can give it to Sky if you want to. She’s not your mom but—”
“She’s my special person. That’s what Sky says.”
My lopsided smile matches my daughter’s. “She is.”
My special person.
And I’m right back to square one.
I made a decision. I shut down all those foolish thoughts I was having about a future with Skylar. Standing in the kitchen with her hair in a ponytail, looking like a sad and confused kid on Sunday, I had to get up and leave when Olivia went to her, comforted her and told Skylar she loved her.
It hit me with the force of a freight train.
Swooping in and planting myself into her life? I keep telling myself she’s a woman—I’ve got the law on my side after all—but I’m lying to myself. She’s still grieving a devastating loss, still figuring it out, still trying to find her place in this world.
I shake the guilt and the misery off before it can take hold. Tell myself that I need to lighten up.
I’ve already committed to having Skylar care for Olivia over the summer in between the two trips we’ll take to Florida to see my parents, so there’s that. But next year Sky will be student teaching while Olivia will be in full-time kindergarten. If she can just give me a few afternoons a week, that will be great. Make it easier. No sudden break, nothing that will hurt. The transition will be gradual.
Olivia will be all right, I’ll make sure of it, and I can all but guarantee that Skylar will be better off for it in the long run.
My feelings don’t factor into this equation. I just have to deal with it, I tell myself. Have to keep that part of my life compartmentalized.
That’s the pep talk that led me to say yes when Max pushed this double date on me.
I shot him down straight away, but then relented when he called again on Sunday night assuring me she wasn’t some club bunny just looking for a good time. Turns out Max is dating a nurse and her best friend is a lawyer. You’ll like Lexi, he said. She’s nice, she’s smart and she’s hot.
And she’s not Skylar. That’s what I was thinking, still freaking out from the aftermath of the weekend.
I flew back home early from Miami for one reason and one reason only: I wanted to see her.
I wanted to see Skylar and to be with her playing house in the home I built. And I wasn’t disappointed. The mess and the cranky little fella aside, I felt something powerful when I walked in to see her holding a baby in her arms.
I wanted her to be mine, wanted her to be holding the child we made together. I wanted to walk in and do the whole Honey, I’m home routine.
Fucking ridiculous, that’s how I felt Sunday morning in the cold harsh light of day.
I’ll never see Olivia as anything but a light in my life, the absolute best thing that’s ever happened to me, but in the eyes of your average twenty-something who’s just starting out, I’m sure my life looks like a trap.
I’m bound by school schedules and bedtime routines. I don’t take spur of the moment trips. I don’t bar hop on the weekends, grab concert tickets last minute or try out the trendy new restaurants on the strip.
Skylar fits in my life. She’d make my life complete. But I don’t fit in hers. It’s a hard pill to swallow but it’s the truth.
So even though I’m looking forward to Friday night about as much as I’d look forward to having a tooth pulled, I’ll go. And I’ll go into it with an open mind. I’ll do my best not to think of Skylar as I’m sitting across from Lexi the lawyer.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Skylar
And the cold war rages on.
Maybe I’m being paranoid. That’s what I thought on Tuesday night when Maureen showed up to relieve me. But he texted to cancel on Thursday—no phone call—then left a voice message to tell me he was taking the day off on Friday. And the kicker? He sent a follow-up text to assure me that he’d pay for my time. Way to make me feel pathetic.
Absolutely not. I won’t accept it. And it’s fine. I need to get some studying done anyway.
He wrote: When is your last final?
And I felt like writing back: Oh, we’re making small-talk now? But instead I just typed out: Tuesday morning.
He makes me feel like I’m a disease carrying organism. Forget being in close proximity, I get the impression that even the sight of me is something he’d like to avoid at all costs.
It’s a good thing I’m a decent student to begin with and that I haven’t been slacking off this semester, because my ability to focus is shot to hell. I’ve sat in the library every day this week wondering what it is that I’ve done wrong.
Driving over to their house in my Sentra on Friday night—I discreetly dropped his car off with the keys yesterday when he cancelled on me yet again—I am so angry. I’m mad at myself for even entertaining that stupid question. I haven’t done anything wrong where Olivia is concerned. I care for her the way I would care for a family member. I care for her the way I would care for my own child.
Maureen called me twenty minutes ago. She’s babysitting tonight. Oh, really? I’m having an imaginary conversation with Leo as I drive. So you tell me you’re taking the day off and then ask Maureen to take care of Olivia? Maureen, the hellion you blame for all of Olivia’s bad habits? What a liar, what a fraud you are.
And when I walk in Maureen doesn’t look the least bit under the weather. It’s nearly eleven o’clock, and I’d much rather be in bed than be in this house right now.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’ll make it, don’t worry. I think Olivia and I just overdid it on the gummy worms. She’s asleep upstairs and lover boy told me he’d be home by midnight.”
“Lover boy?”
She rubs her palms together and smiles. “Hot date. Some young attorney from the area. And it’s about time if you ask me. Young hunk of a man, all muscle and brawn. He’s been living like a monk since that witch died.”
“Maureen!”
“You didn’t know her, I did. And how he wound up with her I’ll never know.”
“It just doesn’t seem right to talk about Olivia’s mother like that.”
She waves me off. “Like I said, you didn’t know her.”
She’s smiling again as she pushes her arms into her cardigan. “Our boy was dressed for success tonight. Sharp black button-down, black pants that he fills out quite nicely, if you know what I mean.” Her expression is scheming in a creepy way, like this is some matchmaking gig we’re both in on. Like I should be rooting for this bullshit along with her.
She practically skips to the front door. Under the weather my ass. “Thanks a bunch, Skylar.”
I fall back onto the couch. “G’night, Maureen.”
Of course he’d go for a lawyer. She probably specializes in patents or intellectual property law. She’s no doubt smarter than me. More his equal.
He thinks of me as a kid. He’s even called me kiddo before, same thing he calls Olivia. The last time he did it I was so tempted to remind him of the night we met—or didn’t meet. I could have said something like: You didn’t call me kiddo when you had your dick pressed up against my ass. When you asked me if I liked it. Nope, I wasn’t kiddo that night in the club.
Now I’m hot and flustered thinking back to that night. I lay back on the couch and imagine him above me, caging me in and kissing me. But when I close my eyes thoughts of Leo with some other woman ruin it for me. I’m still hot all right, but it’s jealousy stoking this fire, not lust.
I hear the key in the lock and note that it takes him a few tries before he’s successful in opening the door. And is that a giggle I just heard? Did Leo Hale just…giggle? Swear to God, if he brought this chick home I’m going to pitch a fit. Last thing Olivia needs is to wake up to some strange woman in the house.
I stand up to face off with them but Leo is alone in the kitchen. And the jerk has the nerve to stand there with a surprised look and a smile on his face when he sees it’s me.
“Hi. This is a nice surprise.”
He puts his keys down and walks over to get a glass of water from the sink.
”Aren’t you going to ask what happened to Maureen?”
“What happened to Maureen?”
I’d like to slap him right now. “She called me to come over because she didn’t feel well.”
“Oh.”
“That’s it? Oh?”
“What…You think I should go check on her?”
“No. She seemed fine when I got here.”
“Sorry she bothered you then.”
I should go. He doesn’t seem drunk but he’s definitely had a few. I should go, I tell myself again, but I’m too damn mad. “Did you drive?”
“No, Mom. Took a car service.”
“So I guess your hot date was a bust?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead he walks over to the cabinet and takes a bottle down from the highest shelf. While I stand there waiting like a fool, he pours himself a small tumbler of some amber colored liquid. He takes a seat at the kitchen table close to where I’m standing and sips his drink as he studies me.
A minute passes before he asks, “Hot date?”
“According to Maureen.”
He nods his head, takes another sip. I can feel my face turning red from shame now rather than anger. I sound like a petulant baby, a shrew, and still I can’t help myself.
“So where is she?”
“Had the driver drop her off first.”
“Did you kiss her?”
“Might have pecked her on the cheek. Don’t remember.”
My tone is bitter, mocking. “Pecked her on the cheek?”
“Yeah.” He looks annoyed now. “What should I have done?”
I shrug like I couldn’t care less. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. Knowing you, I figured you would have gone for it, given her a good night fuck.”
His features harden as he stands and takes one step closer. “That’s what you’d figure? Knowing me, huh? And what exactly do you know about me, sweetheart?”