I stalled, unsure if that was a good idea. Though I liked Emma, I questioned the logic of turning her into a confidante and oversharing. Then again, I had never been one to play by the rules. So I forged ahead, curling my feet up under me and preparing for a gossip session.
“He assumed that I was your bestie or something. And when I corrected him, he made a snide remark about me being involved with someone old enough to be my father. Which obviously isn’t true, but I’m sure you’re aware of the age difference. And it’s a sore subject for me anyway.”
“Right, right. So it totally sounds deserved. He was kind of creepy anyway.”
“Well now he’s kind of wet and smelly like skunky beer.”
She chuckled, taking a big swig of her drink.
Then something dawned on me. I reached over and grabbed my cell off the table. With it being Stephanie’s turn to have custody of Emma, it meant that Will would automatically come over after work for our standing every other weekend date. And although we could be good and keep our hands off of each other, I wasn’t positive that I wanted to advance our relationship that quickly to us having family game nights.
“I need to call Will,” I advised, wincing as I did so. This was awkward. “I mean, your dad. Seriously, how should I refer to him when I’m around you?”
“Whatever floats your boat. I don’t care either way. You’re not going to rat me out, are you?”
I shook my head. “But I do need to tell him where you are.”
Consulting the clock on the phone, I realized that his shift was just about over. Taking the chance that he’d answer, I dialed anyway.
“Hey, darling,” he greeted, his voice instantly warming the blood in my veins.
If only the evening had gone a little differently, he’d be feeling the exact same thing.
“Hey. So we’ve had a change of plans.”
“How so?”
“Well, I have your spawn sitting here on the couch with me.”
I heard him fidget in his seat, anticipating a total shift in the conversation. “Emma’s with you?”
“Yeah. It’s a long story, one that she’s promised me she’s going to tell you herself.” I raised my eyebrow pointedly at her. “But not to worry; she’s perfectly fine. But she’s going to crash here tonight, and I’ll take her back to her mom’s in the morning.”
So I was flying by the seat of my pants, whatever. Emma opened her mouth to protest, but I shook my head and placed my index finger against my lips in order to shush her.
Will cleared his throat, and I instantly knew the root of his concern. Here I was, volunteering to take in his daughter and drop her off at his ex-wife’s. Though I couldn’t even pick the woman out of a lineup, I’d made my hatred of her clear. And though Stephanie obviously wasn’t his favorite person at this point, at some time he’d been hopelessly in love with her. The women in his life - past and present - being in the same vicinity was not the best idea.
“I won’t get out of the car, Will,” I growled, hoping to ease his fears. “Stephanie won’t even know I’m there, or who I am. Trust me.”
“I do, darling.”
And I knew he did. I could sense it in the way his voice softened, an attempt to smooth over his knee jerk reaction. I would handle the situation, because for some reason, I’d placed myself in the line of fire yet again. I was pretty successful at dodging bullets, both of my own doing and of those around me.
“So you’ve got everything under control?”
Did I? I looked over at my guest and shrugged. “I suppose so. My maternal instincts aren’t exactly up to snuff, but I think I’ll manage. I can speak teenage girl. It wasn’t so long ago that I was one.”
Emma rolled her eyes heavenward, and I knew that was my cue to wrap things up. Silly me, I had reverted back to my younger self, hanging on the phone line with my crush, not wanting him to end the call, yet knowing we needed to.
“So my presence isn’t requested tonight?”
Though he meant it as a joke, it sparked an intense pang of guilt in the pit of my stomach. I thought of him, alone, sitting in his duplex tonight. Plans broken, desires left untapped. Or maybe not.
“Looks like you get the night all to yourself,” I sighed, “but if you’re good, I’ll make it up to you.”
“Do tell.”
“I can’t. Your daughter’s sitting right here. But I suggest checking your email when you get home. Certainly not while you’re driving. And I’ll be over tomorrow after I drop Emma off. And that’s a promise, too.”
“Guess I’ll have to make do. Good luck with the parenting trial.”
I stuck out my tongue, even though he obviously couldn’t see. “Fuck you.”
“I wish. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I disconnected, only feeling slightly embarrassed about openly displaying my feelings in front of an audience. Sure, Emma knew - she’d known before anyone other than Doug - but that still didn’t mean I had to be comfortable with it yet. Divorce was a tricky thing, and I didn’t want her to think that I had grand ideas of replacing her mother.
Emma thought my predicament was funny, a sentiment made clear by her collapsing on her side on my couch, shaking with silent laughter.
“I’ll deal with you in a minute,” I warned, jumping up from the couch. She stopped giggling long enough to acknowledge me, though she looked anything but concerned by my impending wrath. “This corset is killing me.”
That comment was met with uproarious laughter, and I clasped my hand over my mouth as the realization of what I’d just uttered washed over me. Without another word, I sped down the hall and into the master bedroom, slamming the door behind me. Damn it if Emma didn’t laugh even harder.
Before attending to my undergarments, I picked up my iPad from its resting place on my nightstand and quickly sent the video over to Will, hopefully making up for the disappointment of tonight. But somehow I knew that while the two of us would have many more nights to be together, my time to get into Emma’s good graces was limited. Now seventeen, she was going to be departing for college - though to places unknown to me - next school year, and for whatever reason, I yearned for her approval.
Silly me. I was Gracie, the woman who had confidence dripping out of my pores, and I was worried about impressing a teenager?
I pulled off my hoodie and unclasped and unlaced the corset beneath. Within seconds, the restrictive boning released me and allowed me to breathe once more. Since I still had a guest in the house, I put a bra back on before slipping into a t-shirt. Prior to heading back out to the living room, I grabbed another shirt and a pair of shorts for Emma to wear to bed.
She had composed herself slightly by the time I returned, but I still threw my clothes at her just the same. She reflexively caught them, her hands pressing the garments to her chest. Then she looked down to see what they were.
“I figured you didn’t want to sleep in party clothes. They might be a little big on you, but it’s all I have.”
Emma smiled, all pure and innocent, and I immediately forgave her for her cracking up at my awkwardness. “Thank you,” she said, like I had just done the most extraordinary thing for her, not just given her some of my crappy clothes to borrow.
“You’re welcome. The bathroom’s right down the hall. First door on the right if you want to change now.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
She unfolded her legs from underneath herself and popped off the couch, heading in the direction I’d just pointed out. She didn’t take much time to get dressed, returning within record time with her own clothes tucked under her arm. Like I’d imagined, my shorts hung off her slender frame, at least two sizes too big. The t-shirt wasn’t quite as bad, but she definitely didn’t share my curves. Of course, she was nine years my junior, so it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise.
She stood in front of me, a secret question forming on her lips. I stopped comparing her build to mine long enough to pick up on the contex
t clues. I sprang up from my seat and ran to the kitchen to solve her problem.
“Here,” I said, thrusting a plastic grocery bag from my pantry towards her, “you can put your stuff in this.”
She did as I told her, then deposited the filled bag in the corner of the room by the arm of the couch. When she sat down, her entire demeanor had changed.
“What’s wrong?” I pressed, wondering what kind of an answer I would receive. Was this about her friend and the party, or about the one-sided sex talk she’d heard between me and her dad?
“Why are you nice to me?”
Well, that wasn’t anticipated. I stared at her, dumbstruck, until my lips formed the only response I could muster. “Huh?”
“Tonight. Now. You didn’t have to do any of this for me. But you did.”
“And you didn’t have to pick up the phone and call me to bail you out of your situation tonight. But you did.”
I raised my eyebrow at her, a look that she returned wholeheartedly.
“You don’t have to impress my dad any more. You’ve already got him wrapped around your little finger.”
“You could’ve called your mom.”
Intentional or not, Emma’s accusation stung. Like I would weasel my way into Will’s heart by being kind to his daughter? He’d practically dictated to me that she was off limits when we were friends with benefits. My making contact with her had been a bone of contention, and here she was insinuating that helping her out was merely a tactical move?
“I’m sorry, Gracie.” Emma held her hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean it like that. I promise.”
I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s a weird situation.”
“No, no, let me explain. Please?”
“Fine. Go for it.”
She paused for a moment, composing her thoughts, while I attempted not to stare too hard. Whatever this was, it was difficult for her to spit out, and my intense scrutiny of her was not helping.
“I’m guessing that my dad hasn’t told you most of what happened between him and my mom,” she began. Her eyes searched mine for an answer. I shook my head. “You probably know that my mom was already dating before things officially ended, and that’s why they separated. I think I even told you that.”
‘You did,” I confirmed.
“My mom tried to keep things quiet before Dad moved out. But once he was gone, it was pretty much a free-for-all. You can imagine that I didn’t take too well to it to begin with. And that’s when my mom’s new boyfriend tried to butter me up. Pretending to be my friend, telling me that he understood. Buying me dinner on nights that they went out, giving me money for clothes.”
“So automatically you think that’s what I’m doing?”
“I told you I was sorry. I know it’s not like that. I swear, you do things for me and you can’t even explain why. All the stuff you bought from me the first night we met at my work, you giving me a ride home when my car broke down - even when you were fighting with my dad, you dropping what you were doing tonight and bringing me back home instead of just taking me over to his place. It’s like you care, and I don’t know why.”
I shrugged. “I suppose it’s because I’ve been there. You know that. And I like you, even if you shouldn’t like me.”
Her brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t I like you?”
“Because like that guy back at the party said, I’m damn near young enough to be Will’s daughter. I’m barely older than you are. You should be embarrassed of me. I’m like your dad’s trophy girlfriend, his way to get back at your mom, right? Arm candy and an easy lay?”
She winced at my bluntness, but I was never one to mince words and I wasn’t about to even with her.
“He’s in love with you, Gracie. And you are with him.”
“So why don’t you hate me for that? If I wasn’t in the picture, and your mom’s guy wasn’t in the picture, wouldn’t she and your dad still be together?”
She shook her head, considering. “As much as I love the both of them, and I’m thankful that they got together so I could be born, they were never meant to stay married. They just aren’t right for each other. You’re right for him. The jury’s still out where my mom’s boyfriend is concerned.”
“You’re still mad at her, aren’t you?”
She delayed her response by reaching for her soda, which I’d thought was long forgotten on the coffee table. She took a long, slow, thoughtful drink. It was as good as a confession. I’d been there, done that part of a divorce too.
Ever the one to avoid conflict, her words were chosen carefully. “I wish that she would have done things differently. I don’t know if she thought it was just a phase or what. That she could step out with this guy once or twice and get it out of her system and no one would be the wiser.” She laughed. “That’s not what happened, though.”
Uncomfortable, I picked at imaginary lint on my shorts. Here Emma was, confiding in me, and I wasn’t certain I wanted to hear it. Of course I wanted to know the whole story, but I’d always figured it would come straight from Will himself. This might be a more accurate depiction of events, but it felt like a betrayal nonetheless.
“Would it have hurt any less,” I mused quietly, “if he found out about it sooner rather than later?”
“No, but it might have been easier to swallow if she’d told him she wanted out before she acted on it.”
“He would have tried to convince her to stay.”
Emma snorted. “He still did.”
“I know,” I whispered.
“You’re not the other woman, Gracie. Stop labeling yourself that.”
“It’s hard not to,” I admitted.
“He’s not in love with her any more.”
I bit my lip. “Sure.”
“Gracie.”
Her hand reached out to grab mine, and suddenly she was the one comforting me. This night was turning out to be a complete one-eighty from how I’d expected.
“You’re an old soul, aren’t you Emma?”
She smiled. “I’ve been called worse.”
I returned the gesture as she stifled a yawn. A quick check of the clock told me it was well after one in the morning. Even though I wasn’t tired, I’d certainly had enough food for thought for one night.
“The guest room’s all set up if you want to go to bed,” I offered. “Let me show you.”
She trailed me to the room that I’d used many a night when it was still Lauren’s place. This bedroom had remained virtually untouched since I’d moved in, as there wasn’t any real purpose for it. I didn’t have overnight guests; everyone I knew already lived in Fort Wayne, just minutes away. And when Will came over, well, he shared my bed.
After making sure she had everything that she needed, I secured the door behind me and stepped back into the hallway. My fingers traced the six paneled wood gently, as though I could wave a magic wand and calm whatever torment the occupant inside was feeling. Emma had obviously been upset about something else completely when she’d taken the initiative to call me, yet her problems had quickly been forgotten when she’d sensed my unrest. And really, it wasn’t my place to pry into her life. I was nothing to her; one messy breakup and a heartbeat away from being out of her realm completely. It wasn’t like I was her mother, or even her friend.
What in the hell was I doing here? Not physically here, because this was my house, but why hadn’t I simply run her over to Will’s place like she’d expected me to? Had I really been that desperate to cement a further connection to Will by working my way into her good graces even further? Had Emma called my intentions out for their actual, less than altruistic motives? Was that why her words still gutted me?
“Stupid. Stupid. Selfish. Selfish. Bitch.” I muttered under my breath as I made my way back to the couch to berate myself further.
I stopped midstride in my living room upon seeing headlights bounce across the copper colored wall. Someone was pulling into my driveway, and my pulse sped up at the thought of
who it likely was. I was waiting at the door for him, my suspicions confirmed even before the Jeep came to a complete stop and the engine was killed.
Will strode up the sidewalk with a purpose, a man on a definite mission. My breath caught in my lungs as I took in the sight of him: button down shirt thrown over a tee and a pair of sweats, wet, unruly hair illuminated by the porch light.
If I had any doubts that he’d watched my video, they were completely erased by his greeting. Without a word, his lips crashed into mine, his body pressing me up against the open screen door.
Equally silent, I broke the kiss, grabbed his hand and led him through my house to the garage.
It was time to christen the Lexus.
Chapter Twenty
Will
I wasn’t sure who was more embarrassed at dinner the following Wednesday. Emma and I both sat at the dinner table like grounded teenagers, picking at our meals instead of talking to one another. One thing that I’d always prided myself on was that even though my daughter was now seventeen and had seen me at my lowest point ever during the divorce, the lines of communication had never been closed off. Until now, I supposed.
Gracie had held firm to her belief that Emma should be the one to tell me about the party. And honestly, I didn’t believe that Emma had told her much anyway. Yet something had her spooked, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Honestly, there hadn’t been much time for discussion in the backseat of her car, but she had clung onto me tighter than ever, like she needed confirmation that I wouldn’t let her go.
I stabbed my baked potato into submission, just as guilty as my offspring. She had gone off to some wild and crazy party without permission. And I, her father, the moral role model in this relationship, had screwed my girlfriend in her Lexus while Emma slept a few feet away.
“I’m sorry,” Emma began, her timid voice barely registering within my jumbled brain.
“Me too,” I admitted. Then winced, because my transgressions weren’t public knowledge.
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