She shrugs. “It was nothing. I do this kind of shit every day. I could do it in my sleep. I love it.”
“Well, thank you.”
Lina places her pinky on top of where mine rests on the blanket, pressing down once. “You’re an amazing father. She’s lucky to have you.”
I feel my face get flushed, but I eat up all this positive reinforcement. I gobble it down.
Neither of us move our hands.
* * *
I eye her through the glass of the evil sliding door that leads out to the patio,ourpatio, wondering if it’s a good idea for me to go out there. She’s sitting quietly, reclined in the single lounge chair, watching the ocean and illuminated by the light of the moon. I have this unsettling urge to get to know her, to dig deep, to find out what makes her tick. It’s just a glass of wine, right? There’s only half a bottle left, anyway. We finished the rest yesterday.
As if she can hear me arguing with myself, she turns and sees me standing in the kitchen and watching her with the intensity of a deranged stalker. She smiles anyway and gestures me over.
I pour two glasses of wine and walk out.
“Frankie go down okay?” she asks me, and I can’t explain the feeling of satisfaction that flows through me at this first question. I hand her the glass and take a seat on the ground next to the railing, putting my knees between the slats and dangling my legs over the edge.
“Yeah. She usually does.”
We sit in companionable silence, listening to the waves crash onto the shore.
“What are you thinking about?” I finally blurt out.
She smiles, somehow radiant in the darkness. “A few things,” she starts. “How much fun I had today. How much fun I’ve had the last few days.”
I take a sip of my wine.
“I’ve been working a little bit, but other than that…” She exhales. “It feels really good. I haven’t done things for myself in forever.”
“I get it.”
“My mom, the school… Mike.” Her lip curls up at the last bit. “All my focus has been on them.”
A twisted part of me wants to hear Lina listing all the reasons I’m better than her ex again (to get me through another teenaged Frankie crisis). I’d also like to even out the current standing imbalance of unhinged over-sharing, so I ask, “You mentioned him a few days ago. He didn’t do laundry?”I’m the fucking laundry king, I want to add on. Separate lights and darks, air dry delicates, bleach, softener, the whole nine yards.
She chuckles weakly. “Among other things. I made his fucking doctor’s appointments for him. Let him smoke in my house.”
I wince appropriately.
“Right? I would even vacuum the ash he scattered all over the rug. I would do all the cooking and cleaning. Frankie is more independent and well-adjusted than he was.” She shakes her head. “I’m not sure if it was weaponized incompetence or if he was genuinely an idiot. Probably a mix of both. But regardless, I’m still the sucker, because I did everything for him, anyway.”
“Why?” I prod.
Lina shrugs. “I don’t know. It just happened. I felt like I was supposed to. But the worst part is that I liked doing it. Ilikedoing it—doing things for other people. It makes me feel… I don’t know. Good, somehow. Complete. Settled. Because I need to. Even at the expense of my own dignity and mental health.”
Interesting. “At least you realized it and dumped his ass,” I offer. “That’s the most important part.”
“After wasting years of my life,” she scoffs.
“Well, you learned something about yourself and grew in the process,” I say like a lame dad giving lame dad advice.
Thankfully, she smiles at me.
I want more of it, so I go on. “Sucks for him, you’re still hot as fuck!” I declare, repeating her words from yesterday. “Honey, they didyoua favor! You were carrying that whole relationship anyway—your back needs a break!”I’d break your back in a heartbeat, darling, my amygdala mutters. I shoo it away.
But I get a laugh, and it’s like having my own personal fireworks show on the beach. She gets up from the lounge chair and comes over to sit next to me, dangling her legs through the railing like mine.
