“I am,” he says, waving the spatula toward Maddie when she heads right for him. “Figured you might be hungry.”
“What is it?” she asks, trying to look.
“Fried chicken,” he says. “Tater-tots. Mac & Cheese.”
I shut the front door, locking up, before strolling to the kitchen. The latter came from a box, but still, it’s impressive. Huh.
“Get started on your homework,” I say, steering Maddie away from the stove. “We’ll let you know when the food is ready.”
She leaves the kitchen, dragging her backpack along.
“So dinner, huh?” I look over his shoulder as he pokes at the chicken. “Have you ever fried chicken before?”
“Nope,” he says, “but I found a recipe and thought, what the hell? How hard could it be?”
Pretty hard, I think, but I let it go, pulling myself up onto the counter to sit on it.
I take out the envelope I got from my father’s house and fiddle with it, running my fingertips along the edges before tracing the writing on the return address.
“What’s that?” Jonathan asks, waving the spatula toward it.
I laugh dryly and hold it up for him to see.
It takes him a moment to recognize what it is. He plucks it right from my hand and tosses the spatula onto the counter, so he can open the envelope. Peeking inside, he lets out a low whistle, shoving his way between my legs and tapping the envelope against my chest as he says, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that’s more than enough to justify quitting.”
It is. I know it. I don’t even have to look.
“Well, if I didn’t know any better,” I say, “I’d say you were gloating about how much money you’re making now.”
“Who, me?” he says, feigning innocence.
“Nobody likes a braggart, Cunningham. It’s unattractive.”
“Is it?” He leans closer, tilting his head. “Does it turn you off, Garfield, hearing about my success?”
I dramatically roll my eyes as I shove his face away. “Ugh.”
Laughing, he grabs my hand and pulls it down, yanking me to him, snatching me right off of the counter, but his body pins me there, flush up against him. He kisses me, teasingly, again and again, whispering against my lips, “I think you’re in denial.”
“Am not,” I say, pulling my arm from his grasp.
“I think you like it. I think you’re proud.”
“And I think you’re full of yourself,” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck, kissing him back. Deep. Rough. Passionate. It doesn’t last long, though, just a few seconds, before a loud gasp rocks through the kitchen. Jonathan breaks the kiss, pushing away, leaving me breathless.
Maddie stands in the doorway, staring at us, her eyes wide and jaw slack. “Did you kiss my mommy?”
“Uh, yeah,” he says. “I did.”
“Are you gonna take her on dates now?” she asks.
“Sure, if she wants,” he says, cutting his eyes at me before turning back to her and saying, “I mean, if that’s okay?”
Maddie’s face splits with a wide grin. “Okay, but only if you see when she gets all pretty, ‘cuz sometimes people don’t see.”
“She’s always pretty,” he says.
“But you gotta tell her, and maybe pick her some flowers, too, ‘cuz it makes her happy when I do that,” she says, strutting over to him and grabbing his hand, trying to pull him with her out of the kitchen.
“Where are we going?” he asks, brow furrowing.
“To get ready, duh. You can’t date with no shirt.”
I laugh, hopping off the counter. “We’re not going tonight, sweetheart. Daddy’s a little busy right now. He’s cooking dinner.”
“Oh shit,” he says, pulling his hand from Maddie’s as he bolts for the stove, turning off burners and shifting pans around, groaning. “I hope you like your chicken extra crispy.”
“I do!” Maddie says. “That’s how Mommy makes it.”
Chapter 20
JONATHAN
It’s strange how easy it is to fall into a routine, how simple it is to find a sense of normalcy. It’s almost instinct.
Kennedy goes to work. Madison goes to school. I sit around, and well… I wait for them to get home. The apartment is small, but it isn’t as cramped as that first one we lived in together. I get restless, yeah, but it’s not unbearable. I distract myself by cooking, and I call Jack whenever I’m feeling antsy. I’m starting to think I might be cut out for small-town domestic life.
Okay, okay, so it’s only been three days, but they’re some of the best days I’ve had in years.
There’s a knock on the apartment door. Three o’clock on Friday. Kennedy and Madison won’t be home for another hour.
Quietly stepping over to the door, I look out the peephole, to see who’s knocking, when I spot the familiar, crotchety lady. Son of a bitch. Opening it, I come face-to-face with McKleski, standing on the doorstep, holding a duffel bag.
My duffel bag.
Before I can greet her, she drops it at my feet.
I stare down at it. “You evicting me?”
“Thought you might want your things,” she says, emphasizing that word, like whatever is in the bag might be scandalous, but it’s just clothes. “You haven’t been to your room in days. Days! I’m all alone out there!”
“Yeah, uh, sorry about that.”
She scoffs. “You’re not sorry.”
She’s right. I’m not. “So, you’ve missed me?”
“Like an alcoholic misses Happy Hour.”
That might’ve been meant to offend, but it makes me laugh. “Will it make it better if I promise to visit?”
She makes a face at that.
“I’m re-renting your room, so don’t come crawling back,” she says, matter-of-fact. “And I’m keeping the money you paid for it. No refunds.”
“I wouldn’t expect any less.”
She waves toward me flippantly as she turns to leave. “Good luck with all this. Don’t run out on them like you abandoned me.”
Ouch. That jab does sting a bit, but I suck it up and grab the duffel bag, closing the door again.
I shower and put on a fresh pair of clothes, the best thing I have with me—black slacks, blue button down, black shoes. I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror after I’m dressed. It’s been about a month since the accident, so the bruises have all faded, the scrapes and cuts all gone. Except for the cast, it’s almost like it didn’t happen. Almost.
But I still see it, sometimes, when I close my eyes. The flash of headlights. The blood. I still hear it, even when it’s quiet. The screech of tires. The screams. The pain might be gone, but the memory is embedded inside of me.
I hear the door unlock, hear Madison burst inside with Kennedy following. I greet them, and Madison runs past, saying, “Hey, Daddy,” as she drops her backpack on the way to her bedroom. She's gotten used to me being here.
“Well, well, well,” Kennedy says as she approaches, grasping my chin and scratching at the scruff I still haven’t bothered to shave. Another layer of protection, privacy. Not quite as recognizable with facial hair. “You almost clean up nicely.”
“Thought we could go out,” I tell her. “You know, like a date.”
“A date,” she repeats.
“Date!” Madison screeches, running right back out of her bedroom. “A date!”
I laugh, glancing at her. “Yeah, a date.”
“Do I get to go, too?” she asks with wide eyes. “Please?”
“Of course,” I say. “What kind of date would it be without you?”
“A sucky one,” Madison says. “Right, Mommy?”
“Right.” Kennedy grins down at her. “Guess we ought to go find something to wear, huh?”
Madison runs off again, just like that, yelling, “Come on!”
It takes them a while to get ready, but I don’t mind. Madison changes her clothes about a billion times, settling on a yellow dress. She’s a ball of s
unshine, that girl.
And her mother? Jesus Christ.
The moment I lay my eyes on her, it feels like my guts get all twisted up. Little blue dress. Goddamn, she’s beautiful. It reminds me of the one she wore our first night in California. I don’t remember everything from those years, but I’ll never forget that night.
I’ll never forget how much she believed in me, how much she loved me, even though I did a terrible job showing her it was mutual.
“You look… wow,” I say, pulling her to me. “So beautiful.”
I lean down to kiss her but don’t get the chance. The second my lips meet hers, Madison yells, “Wait! Not that yet! Don’t do that ‘till the end!”
“What?” I ask, glancing down at her as she shoves between us, pushing me toward the door.
“Guess you don’t get to kiss me until the end of the date,” Kennedy says.
Madison opens the front door, forcing me through it. “You gotta knock.”
“Uh, okay.”
Before I can say anything else, she slams the door in my face, leaving me standing on the doorstep.
I glance around to see if anyone is lurking before raising my hand to knock, but the door flies back open, Madison still there.
“Get some flowers,” she hisses.
The door slams again.
Even through the thick wood, I can hear Kennedy laughing inside the apartment.
Flowers. I look around. There isn’t a single goddamn flower in the vicinity, so I jog over to a patch of grass and rip up a few stray dandelions.
I knock.
No answer.
I knock again.
“Who is it?” Madison asks from the other side of the door.
“It’s me,” I say. “Jonathan.”
“Jonathan who?”
This kid… she’s trying to kill me. I glance around again before saying, “Cunningham.”
The door flings open, and Madison stands there, grinning, so I hand her most of the dandelions, keeping only one of them.
“They’re my favorite!” she says, taking them.
“Figured you might like them,” I say. “They’re the same color as your dress.”
Kennedy strolls over, and I hand her the last dandelion. She takes it, trying not to laugh.
My phone chimes in my pocket—a message from the car service. “Our ride is here.”
It pulls up—a simple black town car, nothing fancy, the same one that took Madison and me to the convention—same driver and all.
We settle into the car for the drive into Albany. Nobody questions where we’re going until we arrive and the car drops us by the curb. The sun has gone down, giving us a cover of darkness, enough that I can hopefully fade into obscurity for a few hours.
“A movie,” Kennedy says. “In a park.”
“Not just any movie,” I tell her, putting my arm around her and pulling her to me. “Quite possibly the greatest super hero movie ever made.”
“Breezeo!” Madison says excitedly.
Kennedy stops short. “No.”
“Yep,” I say. “The sequel.”
“Tell me you’re joking.”
“Nope.”
“You took us to see your own movie. Seriously?”
“Well, in my defense, I’ve never actually watched it,” I admit. “And I knew Madison would enjoy it, so I figured, you know, who better to watch it with than the two of you?”
Madison’s ecstatic, jumping around, while Kennedy looks at me like I’ve gone insane. “You never watched it?”
“Not the whole thing,” I say. “Hell, I barely remember filming it. They say it’s good, though, despite… well…”
Despite me being so fucked up through the entire process that we’re lucky it even happened.
“I’ve heard it's decent,” Kennedy says.
Decent. From her, I take that as a win.
I didn’t do a very good job at the whole planning thing. I have a blanket but have to buy hot dogs from a vendor, because what’s a picnic without food? We settle into the park away from most of the others, giving us a bit of privacy.
The theme song comes on. Yeah, we’ve got a theme song. Think Spider-Man, just with different words, way too cheery for the scenario. Madison dances around, singing along as the movie starts.
Madison’s enthralled from the very first moment. I’m sitting on the blanket, my legs stretched out, while Kennedy lays down, her head in my lap. I cringe my way through the movie, absently stroking Kennedy’s hair.
I glance down at her after a while, realizing she’s not watching the screen, her attention fixed on me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she says. “It’s just strange.”
I caress her flushed cheek. “Being here with me?”
“Yes,” she says. “Just when I was starting to doubt I’d ever see you again.”
“You didn’t think I’d keep popping up every so often?”
“Oh, sure, but that’s not you,” she says. “I knew that guy would keep coming back. I thought I’d be dealing with him for the rest of my life. Drunk, high, out of his mind… but I never thought I’d see you again, real you, yet you’re here. I thought it would always be him.”
I know what she means as she motions toward the screen. I can tell I was strung out. It’s painful.
“I’m here,” I say, “and I’m not going anywhere.”
“I want to believe that.”
“You can.”
She smiles, and I don’t know if she believes it yet, but she looks content in the moment. I brush my thumb along her lips as they part, and I want to kiss her so fucking bad right now, but I know I’ll catch hell from my daughter if I try.
“Ohhhh, Daddy!” Madison says, grabbing my attention, catching me off guard as she launches herself my way. Laughing, Kennedy sits up, moving out of the line of fire as Madison damn near tackles me, leaping on my back and trying to cover my face with her hands from behind. “You’re not supposed to do that!”
“What?” I laugh. “I didn’t do anything!”
“You’re kissing her!” she says as I pull her hands away from my mouth when she tries to cover it. I playfully pretend to bite her, making her squeal. “Stop, Daddy!”
She flings herself on me, falling into my lap, as I glance up at the screen, realizing Breezeo is kissing Maryanne. I scowl, tickling Madison. “It’s just a movie. It’s not real.”
She giggles, slapping my hands away. “You didn’t really kiss her?”
“Well, yeah, but it doesn’t count.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s Breezeo, not me.”
“It’s still yucky,” she says, making a face.
“You think kissing me is yucky?”
I tickle her again, and she struggles, laughing, trying to get away, but I’m not going to let it go that easy. Grabbing ahold of her, pinning her to me, I nuzzle against her cheek as she shoves my face. “Help, Mommy!”
“Oh, no, you’re on your own there,” Kennedy says. “You got yourself into that one.”
“Ugh, no fair!” Madison says, slapping her hands over my mouth. “No kissing ‘till the end!”
“Fine.” I let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “You win.”
She sticks her tongue out at me.
The girl seriously sticks her tongue out, gloating, as she leaps at her mother and kisses on her—planting big, sloppy kisses right on Kennedy, making sure I see it. She’s gone again then, right back to her movie now that the love scene is over.
“Unbelievable.” I shake my head. “I get no love.”
Grinning, Kennedy lays back down with her head in my lap. She stares at me, reaching up, her fingertips brushing across my lips. “You be good, and I’ll make it worth it for you later.”
I cock an eyebrow at her. “Is that right?”
“Yep,” she says. “I’ll—”
She’s cut off before she can elaborate by my cell phone ringing. Cliff. I decline the call, but he calls back again
right away. I decline that call, too, but then comes another, this one from an unknown caller. After that number calls twice, I turn the phone off and put it away, turning my attention back to Kennedy. I’m not dealing with that shit tonight. “So, you were saying…?”
She gives me a sly grin, shaking her head, shifting position to face the screen.
I try to pay attention to the rest of the movie, but that’s harder than it sounds. I’m relieved when it’s over. We stand up as the credits are rolling, though I know we can’t leave until the post-credit scenes play. I grab the blanket, folding it up, and the moment Madison gives the okay, we’re walking away.
Our ride is waiting by the curb to whisk us home.
Madison jumps out when we make it back to the apartment. She’s twirling in circles, her dandelions crushed in her fist as she holds onto them, so not to lose them, as she runs ahead of us. I put my arm around Kennedy, pulling her to me, no hesitation, and kiss her—softly, sweetly at first before trying to deepen it, but she pulls back, grinning, pressing her pointer finger to my lips.
“We see one movie and suddenly you think I’m putting out?” she says. “What kind of girl do you think I am?”
“I think you’re the kind of girl that would usually put out before the movie.”
She gasps, playfully shoving me away, before grabbing my shirt and pulling me right back to her, whispering, “Maybe I’ll even let you bend me over a table.”
My footsteps stall, and I laugh at that as she walks away, pulling out her keys as she makes her way to the apartment door. I stand back, staring at her and Madison, smiling. It feels like my chest wants to fucking burst with all these feelings building up inside of me.
I can’t believe we’re here, that I’m with her… with them. Can’t believe I’m getting another chance to love her. Can’t believe I’m finally a father to my daughter.
Hell, I can’t believe I made it all night without being bothered.
I start to say something—to say just that—when a voice cuts through the silence… feminine, and familiar, and oh fuck. “Johnny?”
I turn, tensing, and see her a few feet to my right in the parking lot of the apartment building.
Serena.
“Johnny!” She runs, flinging herself at me, and I stagger a few steps as she wraps her arms around me, squeezing. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
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