The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs Book 2)

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The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs Book 2) Page 7

by Kate Stewart


  “You are crazy.”

  “I’m serious. Our relationship is strained. I would like to get laid again before I turn thirty. China will heal me, I know it.”

  I grip her hand across the table. “You’re perfect to me.”

  “You have to say that, I know all of your dirty secrets.”

  “Shut up.”

  When the waitress delivers our ticket, Parker places her card on the table.

  “No way.” Most of the time, my pride speaks up and we argue about how she’s wealthy and childless and can afford it, but this time, I slam a twenty on the table and end the fight. “Troy is paying.”

  A slow smile covers Parker’s lips as she wipes fake tears from her eyes. “I’m so proud of him.”

  I haven’t told her that he’s been trying to step up, especially in the last year or so. Though she did chase him from my parking lot once, thinking it was a rare pop up on his part. When it came to Troy, I always wanted her to believe he was the bad guy, because to me, he was. But my mind is changing with his consistent efforts, the way he dotes on his son, his need to get along with me. He’s kept up his part of the bargain, and that’s enough for now.

  “Which one are you thinking about?”

  “Troy. I pray I’m not screwing up. I don’t know if I want someone capable of doing such a horrible thing to raise my son. You know?”

  “I understand your grudge, I do, but people change, they grow up. What he did was a bold move. A move he wouldn’t make if he wasn’t serious. See it for what it is, he’s desperate to know Dante. And Dante’s old enough to deserve a choice. This is something Dante may not forgive you for later.”

  “I know. I just hope I don’t regret it.”

  Parker winks. “I have a good feeling.”

  “Last time you had a good feeling, you had me wearing assless chaps.”

  “And if I recall, that was a damned good night. Grand Girls stay Grand,” she holds up her glass in a toast, and I clink mine.

  “4 Eva.”

  Corry’s Quiche

  Dog Groomer, New York

  Makes 6 servings

  45 minutes

  1 Deep Dish Pie Shell

  Line Pie Shell With:

  Ham or Bacon – Cooked and Cubed

  1/2 Cup Chopped Onion

  1/4 Lb. Swiss or Cheddar Cheese – Shredded

  Mix and pour evenly over ham and cheese:

  2 Eggs

  1 Cup Light Cream (Half & Half)

  Salt

  Pepper

  Dash of Cayenne – if desired

  Bake on bottom shelf of oven at 400 degrees for 35– 40 minutes.

  Cool 5 minutes before cutting to serve.

  Clarissa

  “Good morning, birthday boy!” I stand at Dante’s door with a tray in hand as he sits up in his bed with a budding smile on his face. Once I bring the brightly lit pancakes into the room, his smile widens.

  “Oh, wow, Mommy. Thank you!”

  I set the breakfast tray across his lap. “You’re so welcome, Peanut. Happy Birthday. Make a wish.”

  Dante closes his eyes, and it’s then I see his face, Troy’s face. It’s unreal how close they are in likeness. Anyone in the same room with them could easily draw the right conclusion, which makes me nervous. I’m not ready to uncap the truth just yet. It’s only been a couple months. I’ve decided to wait Troy out. Though he’s presenting himself in a capable and more responsible light, this is still new. He could get bored and decide family life is too mundane for him. If that’s the case, he’s still just a neighbor. It’s the safest way to play this.

  Dante blows out the six candles easily.

  “Are you going to tell me your wish?”

  “Nope.”

  “Good. I like that you’re superstitious.”

  I smile down at him as he digs into his pancakes. “So tonight, Auntie Parker is coming over. Are you sure you don’t want to invite kids from your class to your party?”

  “Nope. But can I invite Troy?”

  “I’ve already invited him. He’s coming.”

  He looks up at me. “You told him to come over?”

  “Yeah, why not? He’s a new friend.”

  “Is Troy your boyfriend?”

  “No.”

  “Because you’re too old?”

  Blink.

  Blink.

  “Yes, because Mommy is old, and her skin’s no longer supple.”

  “What’s stupple mean?”

  “That’s supple. It means I’m a weathered old fart who has nothing on the coeds.”

  “What’s a coed?”

  “Eat your breakfast. I’ll pull a towel for your shower.” I kiss the crown of his head and leave him to it. He catches me on the way out.

  “Mommy?”

  “Yes, baby?”

  “You’re still pretty, even if you’re old.”

  “Dante, I’m twenty-nine. I’m not old.”

  “How many times is that more than what I am?”

  “Almost five.”

  His eyes widen. “You’re five times as old as me?”

  It’s a good thing we don’t build our self-esteem off kid compliments, I’d be under psychiatric care.

  “Yes, Dante.”

  “Well, if you want, I’ll pretend you aren’t old at my party.”

  “I’m not old!”

  “All right!”

  Stomping out of his room, I open the bathroom door and rip his towel from the cabinet. “Little turd.”

  “I heard that.”

  The doorbell rings and I know it’s Troy. It’s the first birthday he gets to spend with his son, and I have a feeling he’s going to go all out. I march my geriatric ass to the door and open it to see he’s fresh-faced, looking like a million bucks, even at the early hour. Due to the natural wave in my hair, and the fact I haven’t showered to tame it, I look freshly electrocuted.

  “Troy,” I say by way of greeting. My mood rapidly souring.

  “What’s with all the yelling?”

  “What?”

  “I heard you two going at it.”

  “Oh, yeah, that.” Mom of the year, right here. “Dante and I were just discussing age.”

  “Is that Troy?” Dante calls from his room.

  “Yes, eat your breakfast!” I yell back.

  “Well, tell him to come back here!”

  “Eat your breakfast!”

  “You two need an intercom,” Troy chuckles deeply, and I ignore the draw of the sound.

  “He needs a muzzle. He’s far too observant, and outspoken.”

  My son refuses to be left out of the conversation from his bedroom. “Troy, did you know Mommy is five times as old as I am today?”

  Troy winces. “Ah, I can see why that didn’t go over well.”

  “She’s too old to be a suppled coed!”

  Troy crosses his arms. “What exactly were you two discussing?”

  “She’s too old for you!” Dante supplies, humiliating me. “So, you can’t be her boyfriend!”

  Briefly, just briefly, I imagine using Dante’s pillow to silence him.

  “You told him you were too old for me?” His ridiculously blue eyes roam my face and trail down. “That’s not true,” he whispers before he rakes his lips with his perfect teeth. “I seem to recall—”

  “Don’t go there, I haven’t even had my coffee.” What is it about men that they are so hard-pressed to make you remember the time they had their penis inside your vagina? I assume it’s just another territorial thing, or some fruit of my loins bullshit. But I’m not about to let him have his moment. “Do us both a favor and don’t bring that up again.”

  “Fine. Are you going to let me in?” I step back as Troy steps in, he’s got on snug-fitting jeans and a T-shirt, full-on man swagger in his steps.

  “I’m going to take a shower.”

  “Need any help?”

  “Just watch him, please. I need ten minutes of peace.”

  “Just let me know
if you find any areas hard to reach. Happy to set a good example in helping the elderly.”

  “Troy, come back here! You can have my last pancake!”

  Troy chuckles again, avoiding my death glare.

  “No,” I shout back to Dante. “Those are for you!”

  Troy lifts the gift bag in his hand. “Mind if I give him one of his presents early?”

  “No,” I sigh, moving toward my bedroom, “go right ahead. One of us needs to do better parenting today.”

  “Ahhh, it’s okay, Mommy.” The crack of his hand on my ass fills the room and my blood boils as the fire spreads. Troy’s eyes remain fixed on my burning ass as my jaw unhinges. “Look at that bounce. I would say that’s supple.”

  I lean in with a hiss. “Do that again, and I’ll chop off your nuts, blend them up, and serve them at his party.”

  He leans in, all two hundred plus pounds of him, and whispers low in my ear. “You look good, Mommy. Trust me.”

  “Troy!” Dante summons again.

  “I’m coming,” Troy replies, a little exasperated.

  I can’t help my smile.

  “He’s all yours, neighbor.”

  Troy

  Clarissa showers as I sit with Dante while he finishes his pancakes. He flips on his TV and begins to change the channel when an old Looney Tunes cartoon comes on.

  “Hey, bud, don’t discount Looney Tunes. Those are the best.”

  “They’re old.”

  “Yes, but they’re classic. Just watch for a few minutes. Trust me.”

  “K.” Dante sits back, taking another bite of his pancakes as the screen pans in on a little green frog. I scan my newsfeed replaying last night’s highlights while trying to ignore the fact that Clarissa is naked mere feet away from me. It’s childish, but the woman is a knock-out. And her comments about being too old and not coed enough aren’t jiving well with me. Why were they having that conversation in the first place? Is she curious about me? Does she ever think about that night? Does she think about me in more than a ‘baby daddy’ sense? If so, I hope her ass is still burning from my slap, and her other cheeks are still red from the compliment I meant. She’s fucking fire. One of the hottest women I’ve ever laid eyes on. And she thinks she wouldn’t be enough for me? Given the chance, I’d show her otherwise in a heartbeat.

  Loud laughter erupts from Dante, interrupting my reverie. Chuckling at his reaction, I look up from my phone to see his mouth is parted, hysterical spittle running down his chin as he watches the frog come to life, belting out opera. He’s laughing so hard I think he may choke on his pancakes. “Easy there, killer.” I can’t help but laugh with him at the way he’s responding to the cartoon. I quickly Google the character’s name and find it’s Michigan J. Frog, saving it in my arsenal of things my kid loves.

  Dante’s still hysterical when Clarissa pops her head in, her hair wet from her shower. The smell of coconut permeates the room. My dick jolts to attention as she joins us on Dante’s small mattress, all curves in tight-fitting jeans and a loose T-shirt. She looks between us, a clear face without a stitch of makeup, and I almost forget myself and push a loose strand of hair from her forehead. “What in the world is going on?”

  Dante’s eyes are trained on the frog who remains mute while in the presence of others before bursting into song once he’s alone with his keeper. And then Dante’s laughing again, his whole body shaking as Clarissa looks on, incredulous.

  “I’ve never, ever, heard him laugh like this,” she tells me over his shaking frame. He’s hysterical.

  “I told him not to count out Looney Tunes. I guess this is his first time seeing them?”

  “Guess so,” she says, beaming brightly as our son starts to choke. I pat Dante on the back, and he dodges my touch, so he doesn’t miss any of the cartoon.

  “Wow,” I mouth, widening my eyes at Clarissa.

  “This is definitely something.”

  The frog begins to sing again, and Dante’s laugh echoes out of his bedroom, as tears pour down his face. “Oh, my God, Mommy,” he exclaims, wiping his tears away. “That’s the funniest thing I ever saw.”

  “Baby, what in the world?” Clarissa laughs with him in confusion, looking to me for answers. I’m just as clueless as he ignores us both, zeroing in on his new hero.

  “You must be Parker.” I stand, clad in a pointy hat that Dante insisted we all wear. I’ve seen her numerous times going in and out of Clarissa’s apartment, but never up close. The woman is strikingly beautiful and full of piss and vinegar as she sizes me up. I can feel my balls shrinking under her withering glare.

  “Does Clarissa know you’re answering her door?”

  I nod. “She asked me to get it.” I glance back at Clarissa, who’s doing shit to hide her sly smile. “And I have a good idea why.”

  “Uh huh. So, you’re Troy.”

  “Yeah.” She opens her mouth to spew, what I’m sure, is years’ worth of pent up insults, and I raise my hands, defenseless. “And before you read me the riot act, I just want to thank you, profusely, for all you’ve done for him. I know how much you love him. So,” I whisper low, “before you declare me nothing but a piece of shit sperm donor and unworthy father, just know that I’ve wanted for a long time to meet the other Dad in his life and I’m all ears for any tips you want to give me.”

  My rehearsed door speech goes over well, and I can see her eyes soften ever so slightly.

  “How did you know about me?”

  Confused, I look back to Clarissa who darts her eyes away before opening a box a candles for the cake.

  “I’ve seen you around.”

  Parker guffaws. “Funny, I can only recall seeing you once when—”

  “Auntie Parker!” Dante yells before he comes running into her arms. She scoops him up, the smile on her face genuine.

  “Hey, Duckie, Happy Birthday.”

  “Thank you,” he squeaks as she keeps him close while he struggles to get out of her arms.

  “Just five more seconds,” she snuggles him as he wiggles in an attempt to escape. She sighs, letting him go entirely.

  “I got so many presents on the table,” Dante exclaims proudly. “But Mommy didn’t get my boats and hoes cake like I wanted.”

  “Because it’s highly inappropriate,” Clarissa chimes from the table. “And you are not to watch that movie ever again.”

  “I agree,” Parker says, taking her ball-melting gaze from me and giving Dante her undivided attention. “So, with all those presents, I guess you don’t need what I have in the trunk.”

  “No, I do! I do, I swear!”

  “Okay then.” Lifting her keys, she clicks the fob for her SUV, and the trunk opens. I stand back stupefied before damn near gasping like a girl at the number of wrapped packages, feeling my balls shrink to the size of raisins.

  “Parker!” Clarissa scolds, walking past me as Dante hauls ass down the porch, his eyes wide.

  “It’s not much,” Parker says guiltily.

  Clarissa openly gapes at the truck along with me.

  “Okay,” Parker says, looking between the two of us, “confession, I may have taken an Ambien, and accidentally one-clicked everything on his wish list. I might have also gotten everything on mine,” she brings her tone down so only we can hear, “which included six lifelike vibrators and two Womanizers,” she elbows Clarissa, “and I brought one for you. I swear to God, it’s the best thing ever invented.”

  Dante is practically screaming as he unpacks the SUV, and I feel my enthusiasm take a nose-dive. It took me weeks to save up for the present waiting on the table. Clarissa shakes her head and pulls Parker into a hug. “I can’t even be mad,” she nods toward Dante, who is unknowingly dropping gifts on the lawn behind him as he brings an armful up the steps, his face lit up like Christmas. “Come in, babe.”

  As they hug, Parker bats her lashes my way, and I narrow my eyes and mouth, ‘game on.’ She mouths back, ‘bring it.’

  It’s not much of a party. Just the fou
r of us, but I can’t help but be thankful to finally be a part of this day. When I asked Dante why he didn’t invite his friends, he shied away from the question. It’s something I’m determined to get to the bottom of, but today I don’t want him feeling anything but elated, which he is the moment he opens my gift. It’s exactly the reaction I hoped for.

  “Troy! You got me a drone?”

  “I did. Happy Birthday.”

  Though Dante had sent me dozens of amazon links, all of the gifts were less than thirty dollars. I know that conditioning. I’d done the same thing with my own mom, never asking for more than she could afford so as to not make her feel bad. That’s the thing about being raised by a single parent, you tend to look at them like it’s your job to take care of them as much as they do you. I’m proud of my son for being so considerate and want to reward him for it.

  Both Clarissa and Parker look at me with suspicion and awe.

  “Can I go play with it, Mommy, please?”

  “Sure,” Clarissa says, swallowing when she sees the bulk of the presents left.

  Dante rushes out of the house with his gift in hand, leaving us all in the dust.

  “Don’t you need me to set it up for you?” I call after him, terrified to be left in the lions’ den with the females.

  “He’s got it,” Clarissa says confidently, pulling the dirty cake plates from the table. It’s then I know I’m in deep shit, when I’m left with Parker with no little ears around.

  “So, Troy,” she turns to me, licking some icing off her finger, “let me get this straight, you impregnate her and leave her to raise your super sperm for six years without you. Why now?”

  “Parker,” Clarissa says in a tone I can’t decipher. She’s hiding something, and I know exactly what that something is. The fact that I’ve tried long and hard before now to be a part of his life. “Let’s not brawl on his birthday. Now isn’t the time.”

  “That’s what we’re talking about, timing. I think now is as good of a time as any. Don’t you, Troy?”

  Clarissa glances over at me, worrying her lips.

 

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