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The dryer beeps to indicate it’s done – proving life goes on even if you’re heartbroken. I make my way to the washroom off the kitchen. Things will improve, I tell myself. Fender will eventually move away and I won’t have to see his dumb face ever again.
The doorbell rings and I sigh. I don’t need another Winter Falls invasion today. Isla and I need a day together to mourn what we’ve lost.
“I’ll get it!” Isla shouts.
I peek around the corner as she opens the door.
“Fender! You’re here.”
“Hi, cutie pie.”
“I knew Mom was wrong. I knew you still loved me.”
She throws herself at him and he captures her in his arms. Arms I will never feel around me again. I rub my hand against my chest but it doesn’t alleviate the ache building there.
“Of course, I love you.” Fender kisses her nose and tears well in my eyes. How can this man who was a total and complete asshole to me yesterday be this tender with my daughter? Is it all an act? Will the real Fender Hays please step forward? So I can slap him upside his head.
“But I messed up with your mom.”
I nearly gasp at Fender’s words. I stuff a fist in my mouth to stop myself from responding. I have to hear this.
“I hurt her.”
“Why?” Isla asks. “Don’t you love her?”
“I love her more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life.”
I bite down on my fist before I can yell at him. He loves me? Why was he an asshole yesterday if he loves me? Why did he say the things he did?
“Then, you need to apologize. Mom always says being honest and apologizing is the best policy.”
“I plan to.” He leans close to whisper in her ear. “But I need your help.”
“What do you want me to do?” Isla’s whisper is loud enough for the neighbors to hear.
“Can you get your mom to go outside in fifteen minutes?” He hands her his watch. “When it beeps, I’m ready and you can bring her out.”
“Okay.”
“Thanks, cutie pie.” He starts to back away. “I know you won’t let me down.”
“Don’t let me down,” she responds and he chuckles.
She shuts the door and I duck back into the laundry room before she can catch me spying on her.
“Who was at the door?” I holler.
“No one.”
I don’t push her. I don’t want her to figure out I was listening in. I return my attention to the laundry. Good thing I don’t need to use any mental capacity to fold clothes because my mind is racing.
Fender knows he messed up? He’s going to apologize? I glance at the clock. Fifteen minutes can’t pass fast enough.
I’ve somehow managed to fold all the clothes and start a new load of laundry when Isla appears.
“Can I play outside, Mom?”
“Go ahead,” I say since I don’t want to sound eager.
