“Later, Phil.” Sure, she could question her Granny, but Phil had lost that privilege.
For a second, he dropped the annoying shtick. “I’m serious, Gabs. I know I’ve screwed up in the past, a lot. But we have kids. I’m here. I still… well…”
Gabby sighed. Phil was lonely. He missed them, but this was too much. “Okay, I hear you. I could use some more help. Can we talk about it next week, though?”
She answered the door, and all six feet plus of Markus’s lanky self stepped from the shadows. Dressed in a low-slung pair of sweats and a tank that showcased a pair of arms any girl, no, anyone would dream of—Markus didn’t look like he belonged in her mushy suburban life.
Phil bristled. “Who the hell are you?”
“Phil, this is Mar—” As soon as she started saying his real name, it hit her that she should hide his identity. “This is… Mar-shall.”
Markus held out his hand, unfazed by his dumb, new name.
“This is Phil, my ex-husband.” She gave Phil a meaningful glance. “Phil was just leaving.”
Suddenly resolved to finish changing the bulb, Phil said, “Don’t mind me.”
He had to be kidding.
Markus rolled with it. “You want me to hand you that Phillips head?”
Phil shrugged and took the screwdriver, looking way too intent on his job.
Granny, clearly amused, called, “Do you boys want beer?”
“Would love one, Granny,” Phil said, because of course he did. Gabby could kill him.
“So what is this?” Phil asked. “A Tinder date?”
“Phil.” She said his name sharply. “It doesn’t matter. Not to mention, aren’t you on Tinder?” She recalled the profile photo of him swinging a golf club and staring off into the distance, the kind of picture that falsely advertised a lot of deep thoughts.
When Granny returned from the kitchen with a beer, Gabby grabbed it and flashed a warning look. Granny was no help. The woman was taking way too much pleasure in this.
“Phil, it’s late. I need to talk to… Marshall and get to bed. I have work in the morning.”
Phil looked like he wanted to smack “Marshall” in the face. Instead, he stood and just stared him down for a minute, like all he wanted to do was kick this guy out of the house that used to be his.
“Phil.” Gabby said his name in a cautioning tone.
“What? I’m just changing a lightbulb.” He passed Markus the dome and screwed in the bulb. “It’s important to have a well-lit entryway, for security.”
Markus said, “If you’re busy, I can take off. I just wanted to go over a few things, and, well, apologize for earlier.”
Gabby couldn’t help but smile at him. He was even being nice to Phil.
After another five minutes of screwing the dome back to the ceiling, Phil was finally done. Gabby took his beer and started walking to the door.
“Who the fuck is that guy?” Phil asked.
“None of your business, Phil. You left.”
“Are the kids safe with him? Have you run a background check?” He shook his head. “If he’s really just some guy you met on Tinder, you can’t have him over to the house with the kids and your grandma. That’s messed up, Gabs.”
Gabby started to laugh because Phil was so off the mark. Funny he should ask about the kids’ safety, though. It’s not like she’d forgotten her suspicion, but she couldn’t bring that up with her doofy ex-husband hanging around making a spectacle of himself over a lightbulb.
Phil must have felt his own anger outpacing reason, because he took a breath and said, “Well, I don’t like it.”
“That’s fine.” She shut the door on him and hurried back to Markus, stopping to smooth her hair and put on lip gloss. At the last minute, she undid one of the buttons on her blouse and repositioned the girls. Just in case he wasn’t the mole. God, she hoped he wasn’t.
