The girls and I spend the next forty minutes destroying the kitchen again. I swear to God, if a family member drops by, I’ll make them drop to their knees and lick this mess up. Candace’s parents are a joke; they only appear at the worst moments, like a late period when you’ve got a white bikini on. Fuck I hate periodsandher lunatic parents.
“Oh my goodness, you guys made breakfast again,” Candace squeals, skipping down the stairs. She puts on a brave face for the girls, but her eyes are swollen, and her voice sounds a little hoarse. I can tell right off the bat the phone call from baby daddy wasn’t him asking formorecustody.
“Mom, Nat said it’s okay to eat chocolate for breakfast if you secretly add it to the batter because then your body doesn’t know,” Madison chimes in, inhaling a third pancake.
“Well, it’s a good thing Nat teaches English and not health.” She smiles, helping herself to a pancake and her signature bowl of fresh fruit and yogurt.
Once the girls have finished their plates and run off to blast their jams, it’s just me and Candace alone. “So I assume the phone call wasn’t Publishers Clearing House letting you know they’re sending you a fat check.”
Her lips purse as she shakes her head, loading plates into the dishwasher. “Nope, it was Greg. He was confirming his plans to take the girls for the week of Thanksgiving.”
Handing her the plates, I nod in agreement. “Yeah, we knew that, though. Does he want them for Christmas, too?” I ask, finding comfort in this domestic routine we’ve found ourselves in.
“No, of course not. He’s cruising with his wife through the holidays and into the new year. He was basically giving me anearful about all thelovelythings my parents called to say about me.”
“Of fucking course. So, deadbeat dad called to complain aboutme? A person he’s never met before, can’t wait to hear this.” I push myself up on the counter, making myself at home for this god-awful conversation.
I swear, every day it’s two steps forward, twenty steps back with us. One person gets in her head, and it takes the rest of the day to bring her back to me.
“Apparently, my parents called after they left last night to voice their concerns about my childish behavior. There've been several complaints from the neighbors, along with the PTA, about how I’m choosing to raise the girls. He’s obviously not concerned, given that he left us, but he puts on a good show for them. When he plays the victim, pretending to be a doting father, they all worship at his feet,” she says, unimpressed.
“Please, your parents stroll through the neighborhood in matching velour jogging suits. Who the fuck wants them bowing down to them?” I roll my eyes, reaching for the blueberry muffins she baked yesterday.
“Greg does. He gets to be the good guy, the winner, the golden boy. Meanwhile, I’m made out to be the reason he left, a hopeless excuse for a wife, and now a poor example to children everywhere because of the company I keep,” she snaps, her irritation clearly growing.
“Company, as inme?” I assume, rolling my eyes. Times like this remind me of the age gap, making me feel like I’m being reprimanded.
She nods, starting the dishwasher. “I stopped listening after a while and just stared out the window, as the community I once depended on went about their day. Everyone forgetsheleftmefor someone younger and bouncier. I refuse to be the bad guy here; I’ve done nothing wrong, and I won’t be caughtdead apologizing for bringing you into our lives,” she says with confidence.
Jumping off the counter, I grab her waist, bringing her body close to me. “That’s my girl. Where has feisty Candace been hiding, and can she come out and play more often?”
She laughs into my shoulders and shrugs. “You’re turning into quite the headache, you know?”
“Good thing I have some tricks up my sleeve guaranteed to relieve said headache.” I kiss along her jawline, breathing in her sweet scent from breakfast. “I hate to pile on more bad news, but I promised my parents I’d show up for Thanksgiving, but I can bail before the end of the week and come hang while the girls are gone.”
Her smile is soft and inviting, always one to never rock the boat. “It’s okay. Have fun, go home, and be with your family. Court and I will have a spa week, and I’m sure she’ll drag me out at the crack of dawn to shop.”
Kissing her forehead softly, I reassure her. “Everything’s gonna be great. Don’t stress, let the girls see their dad. I’ll come back early and spend time with you and have our own Thanksgiving with you naked in my bed.”
Her laugh is instantly contagious. “That was so corny, I shouldn’t have loved it as much as I did.” She softly kisses my cheek. “Thank you for cheering me up.”
“Always, now let's go shower so I can continue cheering you up.”
ChaptEr 27
Natalie
Candace has been gnawing on her ring finger for longer than I have the attention span for. When we got to the bedroom, I hurried to the bathroom, but she stopped me, and instead told me to make myself comfortable on her bed. I really thought we had worked through the scary stuff, but her constant pacing is freaking me out. Thankfully, I don't have to pee, or I’d burst. My train of thought moves from the worst-case scenario to that claw-footed tub she’s got. From where I’m seated, I can make out a tray of essential oils and bath bombs on an end table next to it. I can just imagine the two of us now, soaking in bubbles, relaxing from the day. Perfect, now I’m worked up for a totally different reason.
“Good lord,” I mumble, my bubble bath thoughts interrupted.
“I wanted to try something, if you’ll let me,” she says seductively, untying her fluffy pink robe and laying it neatly on the dresser behind her.
What the hell is going on? It feels like I’m on a prank TV show, and the host is seconds away from popping out to laugh at me for how wound up I am watching Candace disrobe.
“Wow,” I whisper. “You didnotwear that to bed last night.” I’m too stunned to even compliment her.
“I put it on before the phone call, wanting to surprise you,” she teases, seeming nervous.
