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The call ended and god damn it, the ringing started again.
“Mommy!” Lola stomped into the kitchen. “Will you please answer that phone? I can’t take it anymore!”
On that final note, she turned on her bare heels and stormed right back out, leaving me blinking after her.
I mean…she had a point.
I snatched up the phone and answered it. “I’m only answering so Lola doesn’t have a cow,” I immediately said. “Something I might do myself if you don’t stop calling.”
Adrian’s chuckle crackled down the line. “Sorry. Zac made me keep calling until you answered or he was gonna come over there and ask himself.”
“He doesn’t know where I live.”
“Lola told him.”
Of course she did. “What are they? Best friends now?”
“Are you talking to Zac?” Lola screeched. A thump sounded, followed by an, “Ouch! I’m all right!”
“What the…” I breathed out.
“Apparently, yes,” Adrian replied as Lola hopped back into the kitchen.
“Hold on,” I said to him, moving the mouthpiece down to my shoulder. “Lola. What are you doing?”
She shot her arm out and pointed at the phone. “Is that Zac?”
“No.”
“Is that Zac’s dad?”
“Yes.”
“I want to talk to Zac.”
“Go and sit down.”
“I want to talk to Zac!”
“Zac’s here,” Adrian said warily. “Let them talk.”
“But I don’t—”
“Mommy, pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease,” she whined, cutting off what was going to be my protest.
“Two minutes.” I held up two fingers and passed her my phone.
She nodded and held the phone up to her ear. “Hi, Zac…Mhmm…Okay…Yes!…Okay. Bye now.” She passed it back to me. “Here you go, Mommy.”
I barely had my fingers wrapped around the pone when she let go of it and ran off out of the room. “Hello?”
“Perrie?” Adrian’s voice answered me. “That you?”
“Yeah…What the hell was that about?”
“Uh, well, that dinner thing? It was Zac’s idea.”
“Don’t you dare carry on talking.”
“See you in an hour at Polka’s.”
I opened my mouth.
He hung up.
Fucking hell.
***
I got out of the car in the parking lot of Polka’s and slammed the door behind me. If there was anything worse that a forced dinner with Adrian, it was one at Polka’s.
Bright colors. Loud, happy-go-fucking-lucky, claw-your-eyeballs-out music. Greasy, shitty food that somehow tasted amazing…if you could get past the kids screaming in the extortionately big play area.
I usually couldn’t, which is why we didn’t come here often. The upside was that it was cheap, so I could cope with it…kinda.
“MommyaretheyhereyetcanyouseethecarIcan’tseeitMommycanyou?” Lola took a deep breath and got out of the backseat when I opened the door. “Can you, can you, can you?”
This was gonna be a long dinner.
A glance around the parking lot confirmed that they weren’t here yet, so instead of answering her, I said, “Let’s go inside and see.”
“Did you see the car? Are they here? Mommy, isn’t that their car? Mommy, will you answer me?”
“Lola, I don’t know. Inside now.” I sent up a small prayer to whoever was unfortunate enough to be privy to my life and pulled open the door.
Oh god, the screams. The shouts. The wails. They slammed into me like freaking tidal wave that had been held back.
It was all I could do not to wince at it. Lola, however, didn’t seem to notice as she skipped in and up to the hostesses table.
“Hi,” I said to the young girl with a bored expression. “We’re meeting some friends here—Dad’s tall, dark-haired, tattoos on his arm—”
“Dreamy like a Disney prince,” Lola interjected, earning herself a small smile from the girl.
I cut her a look. “And his son is a few inches taller than her,” I said, holding my hand over Lola’s head. “Crazy brown hair.”
“I think I know who you’re talking about. He said he was waiting for a couple blondes to show up.”
I’d heard that before.
At least it was in a kids’ restaurant and not a bar this time around.
Small victories and all that.
She led us toward a table relatively close to the children’s area. This was both a blessing and a curse—a blessing because you didn’t have to get up to see your child, but a curse because, well, you didn’t have to get up to see your child since you were so close.
It was always a bittersweet spot to sit.
The second Lola saw Zac, she squealed and took off toward the table. Even my protest at her running didn’t slow her down, and what happened next was in slow motion.
She tripped on her shoelace. She flew forward, her arms outstretched, ponytail flying through the air, and her face contorted into an ‘o’ of horror as she got closer to the floor.
Adrian darted forward.
His big hands grasped hold of her waist, and he caught her before she hit the ground like a goddamn ninja.
Lola, of course, screamed.
“Hey!” Adrian pulled her up onto his knee. “It’s all right. I caught you.”
“Mommy.” Her lower lip wobbled as she turned her head toward me.
“Did I tell you not to run?” I asked her, eyebrows raised.
