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mason
“Did you know somebody stole the Candy Land game?”
I yawned as I opened the car door for Finley and waited for her to climb in. “Somebody stole it?”
“Yup,” she said, reaching for the seatbelt. “Grandpa and me looked all over for it last night, but it’s gone. We had to play Go Fish instead.”
I had a feeling my father knew exactly where the Candy Land game was, but I wasn’t about to admit that out loud. Once she was buckled, I closed her door and got into the driver’s seat. “So between the blanket fort and the banana split and Go Fish, it sounds like you had one heck of a good time last night, Fin.”
Her hair was pulled up into two sloppy buns—not my best work. But after three hours of sleep, it was the best I could do. I was half-tempted to let her skip church with Traci so we both could sleep in, but I didn’t want to risk pissing the woman off.
So away we went on that gray November morning to meet her at our usual spot. The closer we got to Wal-Mart, the quieter Finley became. She stared out the window as I drove, and it wasn’t until about the fourth or fifth time I glanced at her in the rearview that I realized she was frowning. “What’s wrong, Fin?”
She sighed. “Sometimes my belly hurts when I go with Traci.”
“Probably from all the sweets she gives you,” I muttered.
“No,” Finley asserted. “It starts happening before I get in her car. My belly hurts right now.”
As soon as she said those words, I pulled off the road into a random driveway and shut the music off. “Finley,” I said, turning around to face her. “Is it your nerves?”
“I dunno,” she said with a shrug.
“Does it make you nervous when you have to go with Traci?”
It took her a moment to answer, almost like she was afraid to tell me the truth. Finally, barely moving her lips, she mumbled, “Sometimes.”
I inhaled, scratching my chin. “Do you want to skip going with her today?”
Her eyes widened. “I don’t have to go?”
“No.”
“But she’s going to be mad.”
“No, it’ll be okay. And Finley, listen.” I reached for her hand. “If going with Traci makes you so uncomfortable that your stomach hurts, you don’t have to do it anymore. This isn’t a requirement. If you want to stop, you can.”
“She’s going to yell, though.”
My blood was boiling through my veins, and this reaction of hers further proved I was making the right decision. “She won’t yell at you. I won’t let her.”
“She’s going to yell at you, Daddy.” She bit her bottom lip.
I squeezed her hand, taking a deep breath before I responded. “I can handle it.” I threw the car in reverse and backed out of that stranger’s driveway, mentally preparing for a fight with Traci. I briefly considered taking Finley home first just in case the argument got ugly, but we were already so close to our meeting point.
And if she threw a fit, I could simply turn around and leave immediately. I didn’t have to listen to that.
“Just sit tight for a minute,” I said to Finley as I unbuckled. Traci was waiting. “It’s going to be okay.”
With my hands in my hoodie pocket, I made my way around to the driver’s side of Traci’s car. She stepped out and stomped on a cigarette, giving me an apprehensive look. “Where’s my girl?”
“Um, listen,” I said, taking a step closer. I didn’t want to have to talk very loud. “Finley isn’t going to go with you today.”
“What’s going on? Is she okay?” She glanced toward the Jeep.
I cleared my throat. “Traci, Finley just told me that going with you on Sundays makes her uncomfortable. So I’m not going to m—”
“Uncomfortable? How? What do you mean?”
