Crap.
Crap.
Crappity-crap.
“What did you say? I hope you didn’t make anyone feel bad, Gabbs.”
When she frowns, regret instantly washes over me. I just shamed my daughter to protect my feelings. I knew this Reid thing was a horrible idea.
“I didn’t, Mom. I swear. I said we made a new friend and we were only going for a little bit ... like you said.” Her shoulders slump as we make our way back to the house.
“Listen, I’m sorry, Gabbs.” I tweak her ponytail. “It’s actually been a long time since I made a new friend, and I’m a little nervous about it. You’re so good at it, maybe you could help me?”
Her mood lifts, along with her shoulders and her smile. “Of course, Mommy.” She takes my hand and squeezes it. “I’ll help you, but you never get nervous over anything.”
“I do, it’s just ... it’s my job to only get nervous when you’re not watching, honey.”
She races up the stairs two at a time, the serious moment forgotten, rambling about video games and tickets. Inside, she flops her backpack by the couch and heads for the kitchen.
“Hungry?” I ask, knowing she is.
“You said we’re eating dinner at FunZone ...”
“We are, but maybe you want a snack? An apple?”
She nods, and I wash, peel, and slice an apple, glad to have busy work for my hands.
“I’m going to clean up and change,” I tell her when she finally settles in front of a show.
“Should I change?”
“You look great, baby girl.”
As for me, I look a mess. Sweaty, in running pants and a ratty long-sleeved tee, my hair knotted and face ruddy.
“A quick whore’s bath and total makeover is in order,” I whisper as I enter the bathroom.
Not so sure that’ll even help matters, I think as I pull out a washcloth and some liquid soap.
In jeans, a fitted long-sleeved black tee, and ankle boots, my face freshly washed and made up, my hair down and wavy, I go in search of Gabby.
“I’m ready, Mom. Brushed my teeth too,” she calls.
I hear the flush and the water running.
“Here I am.” She steps out as the doorbell rings.
I want to scream, “Fuck,” but I don’t. I answer the door with a smile on my face, Gabby by my hip.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey,” he says.
Gabby grins up at him. “We’re ready!”
“Great, you excited?” Reid’s knee cracks as he crouches to be face-to-face with Gabby.
She’s smiling, he’s grinning, and I’m cringing. My belly is also flip-flopping or butterflying or whatever they call it these days, which is partly why my head is working overtime, telling me everything that can and will go wrong.
