‘Oh yes please.’ He ignored the syrup already trailing across the countertop as she turned the maple syrup bottle upside down. ‘Whoa, enough!’ He gently prodded his daughter in the ribs so she giggled addictively. ‘I want syrup with my waffles, not waffles with my syrup.’
‘Mommy doesn’t want any but I poured her juice.’
‘Well done.’ He tucked into his waffles as Ruby ran off to get ready for the day. At six years old, she was already quite the little lady. She’d been dressing herself since she was two, and that had set a precedent. She rarely wanted anyone to do anything for her and Dylan hoped it would last.
‘They’re big waffles,’ Prue commented, with a distasteful look at his plate.
Prue had kept him fighting fit right from when they first knew each other. She’d wanted a trophy husband, if there was such a thing, which begged the question why care now? Why care when they were divorced and she was an attractive, single, blonde who could probably have her pick of men.
‘I think I’ve got room for another,’ he said, and Jacob appeared at his side to drop another waffle onto his plate. He squirted the syrup for himself. Actually, he didn’t want another, but this was fun, winding Prue up. Childish but amusing all the same, and after his disastrous date with Cleo, he needed cheering up. He’d checked his phone as soon as he got out of bed this morning, kicking himself for even thinking she was going to get in touch.
‘It’ll catch up with you, you know.’ Prue sat back, appraising the kitchen.
‘What will?’
She nodded towards the waffles. ‘Eating like that.’
‘Come on, it’s a treat. Ruby is excited about having you here and taking us both to the school to see what she’s been doing.’
‘Are you still working out?’
‘What’s it to you, Prue?’ He scraped up the last of the syrup from his plate. He almost wanted to lick it just to annoy her. ‘Haven’t you found someone else to turn into the perfect man by now?’
‘That’s not fair.’ She finished her juice and at least had the good grace to take her glass and put it in the sink.
He cleared the kitchen while calling out to Jacob to let his sister get ready in the bathroom first. ‘So are you?’ he asked. ‘Are you seeing anyone else?’
‘I am.’ She was about to lean against the kitchen countertop as he stacked the sticky plates in the bottom of the dishwasher, but decided not to put her cashmere at risk. ‘His name’s Brian, he’s in finance.’
His profession came as no surprise. ‘How long have you been together?’
‘A couple of weeks.’
‘Do you think it could be serious?’
With a roll of her eyes, she said, ‘It’s not been long enough to know.’
He could smell her perfume when she moved closer to him. She’d worn the same fragrance since they’d got together. A heady, hypnotic scent that went with her image and he had no doubt cost more dollars than some people spent on their monthly grocery bill.
‘Areyouseeing anyone?’ she asked.
He didn’t answer straight away but he was thinking about Cleo. ‘No. No, I’m not.’ It was true, wasn’t it? After last night, Cleo was unlikely to ever want to be near the man who was taking away her store, a part of her life. She’d not said that to him but he wasn’t stupid. He was reading between the lines. Whatever spark there’d been with Cleo Jones, it had been well and truly extinguished.
Ruby appeared in her school uniform, raring to go, with Jacob close behind, and after wrapping up in coats, scarves, and hats to tackle the cutting chill in the Connecticut air, they left the house as the intact family they’d once been.
Dylan putthe key in the lock of the front door. He hadn’t expected Prue to ask if he had time for a coffee after the event at the school, and as she followed him inside the house, he wasn’t sure where this was leading.
‘Would you mind if we talked after this?’ Prue had leaned in and whispered to him as they sat in the school hall waiting for Ruby to present her project to show how dirty coins could be cleaned by mixing a concoction of taco sauce, vinegar, and tomato paste. She was sitting unusually close to him, when most days it was as though even his breathing annoyed her and she wanted to keep a respectable distance.
‘I have to go out around eleven,’ he answered, not wanting her hanging around for an infinite amount of time. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘No, I just wanted to talk.’
Ruby had come out at that point and they’d applauded enthusiastically. She had a cheeky little grin but walked so tall and he knew how proud she was to be standing there, talking to a crowd. He had visions of her being a TV presenter when she grew up, or in politics. She had that air of authority and he wondered if it was a unique mix of Prue’s stubbornness and going after exactly what she wanted, plus his ability to get on with people from all walks of life. His teachers had described him as amenable and a quiet achiever and he knew Ruby had a few ounces of those same qualities. He hadn’t quite decided where Jacob was heading yet, but what he loved most about his son was his sense of fun, his sense of self even though he was only four years old.
Dylan watched Ruby demonstrate, making the mixture with what Prue described as ‘revolting, smelly ingredients’ and show the audience dirty coins and the result after they’d been dipped. She even did audience participation and went round asking if anyone would care to show her coins from their wallets and she’d clean them for them. Maybe she wouldn’t be in politics, maybe she’d be entrepreneurial. Whatever she ended up as, she’d certainly be her own boss.
Back at the house now, with only Prue for company, Dylan made two coffees and placed them on the table, deliberately sitting opposite rather than next to her. ‘Ruby did well today.’
