My lungs inflate faster than I intend. I don’t need to look to confirm he isn’t pleased with the current state of things. Without drawing too much attention, I carefully give a little of it back.
“What movie are we watching?” I ask, eager to move the evening along. At least once the film starts, there will be no reason to talk.
“School of Rock!” Nellie answers.
“Really? The one with Jack Black?” I move my gaze over Nellie’s head, but Sutton continues to ignore me.
“Yep. Someday, I’m going to join a rock band.” Nellie bobs her head as if she’s listening to an imaginary rock song.
“What instrument would you play?”
“Drums! Right, Daddy? You said I could get drums for my birthday this year.”
Sutton wraps his arm around Nellie’s shoulders and smiles down at her. “That is what I said.”
“Yippee! I’m going to be a rock star!” The eight-year-old jumps up onto her feet on the center cushion. Sutton rescues the bowl of popcorn from tumbling off her lap. She waves her skinny arms as she plays imaginary air drums.
“Not if I have to use the money for a drum set to replace the couch.” Sutton’s reprimand is gentle, and Nellie immediately drops back to her butt.
“Sorry.”
“’S’okay. Why don’t you start the movie? I’m sure Ms. Thompson doesn’t want to be awake all night.”
Nellie looks at me with large blue eyes. “But then we could have a sleepover,” she breathes.
Sutton grunts. “Not tonight. We’re going to Grammy’s tomorrow.”
“She could come with us to Grammy’s too!”
“Honey, Ms. Thompson doesn’t live here. She has her own life to get back to.”
Oh, yes. My life of taking care of myself, my diabetes, and my cactus. I spend more time with the Stone family than I do at my rental. This pretty muchismy life right now, but I don’t say that out loud.
Nellie rolls her neck, bringing her face back to mine. “Maybe next time,” she drones.
I bite my lip to stifle a laugh. “For sure.”
The withering glare Sutton sends my way says absolutely not, but it’s my turn to ignore him.
Finally, someone hits Play, and the movie starts. For a moment, I’m concerned the rock concert will reignite Nellie’s airdrums, but she seems content settled in the crook of Sutton’s arm as Jack Black dives off the stage.
My body relaxes as I become engrossed in the movie. I’ve seen it before, but it’s probably been at least fifteen years.
“Want some?” Nellie whispers, gesturing to the large bowl of popcorn in her lap.
I hide the glow of my phone as I open my CGM app. From the corner of my eye, I watch Sutton reach for some, his large hand eclipsing most of the bowl.
Popcorn is a no-go.
The risk of touching him isn’t worth the deliciously buttered morsels.
For the rest of the movie, I keep my hands in my lap and my gaze fixed on the bright, flickering screen. It’s a good thing I’ve seen the movie before, because I’m too aware of Sutton on this couch to retain anything new. By the time my bones begin to ache from my rigid position, the end credits are rolling, and the band plays AC/DC’s “It’s a Long Way to the Top.”
A twinge spreads up the side of my neck as I move it for the first time in over an hour. Beside me, I find Nellie with her face burrowed in Sutton’s chest.
“She fell asleep,” I whisper, pointing at the sleeping girl.
Sutton’s lips twitch, and he brushes her hair from her face. “She usually does. She’s an early riser, but she can’t hang past nine o’clock.”
