Page 61 of The Maverick


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I park Pearl in front of Warner’s house and slip from my car. There’s just a little something I want to drop off for him.

I don’t know if Warner knows about the pictures of us kissing in the grocery store, and I’m not sure how he’s going to react. Having my private affairs plastered all over the place is part and parcel with my career, but Warner… not so much. This jar of candy I’m leaving on his doorstep will either be a peace offering or a way to butter him up before telling him we were spotted.

I’ve just set the candy on the mat when the front door opens suddenly.

I jump back in surprise, my hand resting on my wildly beating heart. Peyton stands in the open doorway, looking every bit the sullen, angry thirteen-year-old.

“Sorry, I, uh…” I point down at the candy. “I was just leaving a surprise for your dad. And you, too, of course.” I scoop it up and hand it over. “It’s my favorite candy from LA.”

Peyton eyes the jar but takes it. “Thank you,” she says slowly.

“Sure, no problem.” Silence. “Well, okay, that’s it. I’ll see you around.” I pivot, making my way down the steps.

“Wait.” Her voice is bumpy and unsure, as if she’s about to do something and she hates that she has to.

Slowly, I turn around. “Yes?”

Peyton drops the act. Her lower lip trembles, and her eyes are fearful. “I need help.”

My gaze sweeps over her quickly, looking for evidence of injury. None, from what I can see. “Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head. “I’m, um…” She glances around, as if we’re not in quiet seclusion. “I think I got my period.”

Whoa.“Okay. No big deal.” I come closer. “Do you have anything to use for it? Pads or…” I trail off. Something tells me Warner wouldn’t love the idea of his daughter using a tampon. Ultimately it will be her choice, but I remember when I got my period. My dad was horrified by the idea that something was entering my body, even if it was only a stick of cotton.

Warner probably hadn’t thought to buy something ahead of time. Peyton shakes her head. No.

“No worries, I have some stuff. Hang tight, I’ll be right back.” Libby barks from her place in my car. “How about...” I walk to the passenger side and open the door, “Libby keeps you company while I’m gone?” I motion for Libby to get down, and she jumps out. She runs over and Peyton scoops her up, smiling when Libby kisses her face.

“See you soon,” I tell Peyton. She closes the door to Warner’s house, and I go to mine. I grab a handful of panty liners, a couple pads, and a second jar of my precious candy. Peyton shouldn’t have to share with her dad and her brother when she’s on her period.

When I get back to Warner’s, I let myself in. Peyton sits at the kitchen table, Libby on her lap.

“I brought a couple things.” I place everything in front of her, explaining when she should use each one. Nudging the candy, I say, “This is because no woman on their period should have to share their candy.”

Peyton looks up at me. “Does this make me a woman now?”

Oh shit.I am so not qualified to be answering questions like this. I am, however, the only adult around, and I’m certainly not going to leave Peyton hanging.

“Well.” I take the seat beside her. “That question has many answers. From what I can tell, there is no one time when you become a woman. I think a lot of little developments and experiences add together, and one day you realize you’re a woman.” My lips twist as I consider what I’ve just said and realize it applies to something else. “It’s the same for becoming an adult, in my opinion.”

Peyton nods, slowly reaching out for the stash on the table. She stands. “I knew I wasn’t dying or anything. When I saw the blood, I mean. I knew what it probably was. It was just scary.”

I have the urge to reach out, to touch her forearm and reassure her, but I don’t dare. I’m just grateful for the progress we seem to have made so far. “I understand.”

When Peyton leaves the room, I call Warner and tell him what’s happened. He’s completely silent.

“Warner?”

“Processing,” he answers.

I tap my thumb on the table. “Process faster. She’s going to be back soon, and I don’t want her to walk in while I’m talking to you.”

He sighs. Not like he’s irritated, just that this is all a lot for him. I get it. He’s a single father to a girl who is now considered a young woman. “What do I need to do?”

“Stop at the store. She needs supplies. I’ll text you the list.”

“Okay. Anything else?”