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“Yay!” the four girls scream and jump up and down.
“Okay, give Mom a hug,” Cole urges. “Might as well get this over with so we can get straight to the movie.”
I watch as Koda gets on her knees to hug the girls. “You be good,” she instructs them, “and if you need anything?—”
“We will call you,” Brittany reassures her, and she ushers the four girls out of the room. I think I even hear talk about painting nails.
I get up, then take Koda in as she tries to put on a brave face, but knowing she is probably freaking out that they are gone. I reach for the kids’ bags. “Let’s go,” I mumble to her as she looks up at me with shock on her face.
“What?” Her voice is soft.
“We’re going to go get something to eat,” I tell her, ignoring how my hand is gripping the bags, knowing that she’s been ignoring all my calls and texts for the last three months. “What do you feel like, burgers or sushi?” I make my way out of the room, hoping she just follows me.
“You hate sushi,” she points out as we step into the parking garage.
“It’s not that I hate it,” I try to say, “it’s a texture thing.” I stop at her Range Rover.
“You don’t have to do this, Christopher.” She looks at me. “I’ll just head on home.”
“Again, I don’t do things because I have to. I do things because I want to.” Her eyes watch me. “Now, do you want to follow me or do you want to come with me?”
“No, I’ll follow you,” she replies and I hold on to the bags.
“Okay. I’m going to hold on to these bags.” I hold up said bags in front of me. “Just to make sure you don’t ghost me.”
She throws her head back and booms out a laugh that I haven’t heard in over three months. The sound even shocks her. “That made me laugh,” she says, her green eyes lightening. “I’m not going to ghost you.” Her face is beautiful when she laughs, and I can bet my ass she hasn’t laughed in a long time.
“Well, when you park next to me, I’ll hand over the bags.” I don’t waste time talking to her. Instead, I walk over to my truck and open the door, tossing the bags in there. “Where do you want to go?” I watch her as she walks over to her SUV. “We can hit up McCloughan’s.”
“Oh, they have good burgers and fish and chips.” She opens her door. “I’ll meet you there. Bring the bags.” She laughs, getting into the SUV.
“I’ll follow you!” I shout at her. I don’t know if she hears me, but I wait for her to pull out of the parking spot.
I follow her and pull into the parking spot beside her. She gets out and comes over to my driver’s door and waits for me to open it. “Now, can I have my bags?”
“Yes.” I laugh, grabbing the bags and handing them to her. “You can.” She takes the bags from me, then turns and places them in the trunk. I meet her as we walk into the bar. It’s booming because it’s a Friday night.
We walk up to the hostess stand. “Two,” I say, and she smiles at us as she looks on her iPad before telling us to follow her. I put my hand on Koda’s lower back, making her walk ahead of me. The hostess places the menus on a table in the middle of the room, but my eyes go to a table in the corner.
“Can we have that one?” I point. “It’s quieter.”
She nods, and I walk over with her. Koda takes her jacket off before sitting down in the chair that backs to the room. I sit in the corner facing her, shrugging off my own jacket. Koda grabs the menu, avoiding looking at me. “So.” I lean back in my chair. “Are we going to get the weird stuff out of the way so it’s not awkward as fuck?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Even when she says the words, I know she’s lying.
“Okay, well then, I’ll start. I’ve called you”—I put my hands on the table, my index finger moving up and down—“every single day. But you know that.”
“I was—” She starts to come up with an excuse, but I hold up my hand to stop her.
“Then I texted you.”
“I answered you.” Her voice is strong, then goes lower. “Once.”
“Yup.” I nod. “Got it. One whole word. No.”
“Well, I didn’t need anything.” She puts her arms on the table, crossed in front of her. “So that was my answer.”
“Did you send me the picture of the first day of school because you wanted to?” Her eyes quickly look away from mine. “Or was it a mistake?”
