Because as much as I’m telling myself this is just a playdate with our kids, I want things to go well with Sutton.
I’ve never brought anyone to meet Troy. I’ve dated a few women here and there throughout the years—I’m not a saint—but I didn’t want my son to have to deal with women flitting in and out of our lives. He didn’t deserve that. Not after having a deadbeat for a mother.
Sutton is different. From the moment she got down on Troy’s level, I felt it. And maybe I’m kidding myself thinking so, but I want this to work.
The doorbell rings, breaking me out of my thoughts.
“They’re here!” Troy runs to the front door, his tennis shoes squeaking on the tiled floors.
“Wait for me.”
He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet by the time I get there.
“Can I open the door? Please?”
“Go ahead.”
Troy swings open the heavy front door and there they are.
Sutton takes my breath away with how beautiful she looks. Her blonde hair is hanging down around her shoulders. She’s wearing a simple black T-shirt and jean shorts.
And the little girl hiding behind her, peeking her head out, is the spitting image of her.
“Hi.” My smile is bright, because how could it not be?
“Hi.”
“Are you Lydia?” Troy asks. He’s never met a stranger in his life. Always one to go up and talk to anyone we meet.
She gives a small nod of her head.
“Do you want to come see my toys?”
“Can I?” She looks up to Sutton, asking permission.
“Of course, sweetheart.”
Lydia pops out from behind Sutton and follows Troy into the living room.
“Do you like fire trucks?” I hear him ask. “Or want to color?”
“I like coloring.”
“Well, that should keep them occupied,” Sutton laughs. “Can I come in?”
“Shit. Sorry.”
“It’s a good thing Troy didn’t hear that.”
“That kid will have college paid for by the end of the year at the rate I’m going.”
Sutton nervously tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Not one to mince your words around him?”
“More like years of playing football didn’t teach me the best habits.”
Sutton follows me into the kitchen. “You have a great place.”
“Thanks.”
