Hayley walked out of the kitchen in sweatpants and oversized sweatshirt, her cell in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
She eased around him, as he knew she would, to look out at the car. Or, more specifically, at Ginny. His super-hot, super-fake girlfriend.
She sipped her coffee, loudly. “Well,” she yawned. “See you Monday.”
“Yep. See you Monday.”
Hayley shut the door in his face. He grinned, the disappointment from moments ago waning slightly. Sure, maybe Ginny was only using him for her own comfort, but whatever. Her existence pissed his ex-wife off so much she had to pretend nonchalance.
A win was a win, anyway you cut it.
TWENTY-NINE
The rain last night had filled the parking lot, making every available space a disaster zone for Shepherd’s sneakers. This is what he got, choosing the support of dad shoes over his summertime Crocs. Wet socks.
Grimacing, he managed the path of least resistance, crossing between parked cars to get to higher ground. The girls went straight through, though Ginny made constant noises of disgust and distress while Lex tried a variation of sayings like “Hot brown water! Do the stingray shuffle, Ginny! C’mon, man, are you nutso butso? This is clearly a no-wake zone!”
That last one was to the driver of a Ford truck who drove past them at normal parking-lot speed and created waves.
But the girls were both wearing sandals—no socks—and so he continued on without looking back.
“Waffle House,” Ginny sighed as Shepherd opened the door for her. “I googled all those cute little breakfast places, and you pick Waffle House.”
“You’re the born and raised Floridian, Virginia,” Shepherd counted. “Look around. Breathe it in. This is your culture.”
Lex took her hand and gave it a gentle pat. “Me too, Ginny. This isourculture. Let’s enjoy it together.” His daughter tugged his employee to a table closest to the kitchen. So close, in fact, that the waitress stood in the kitchen to take their order. Three waffles, two coffees, and one chocolate milk later, Lex was filling them in on all her plans for the day with Chloe. Chloe, who had her own pool. Chloe, who lived near the park. Chloe, who hadtwobikes so they could go to the park together withoutanyparents.
“As long as you keep your phone on you,” Shepherd said. “Don’t talk to strangers. And be back at Chloe’s house before dinner.”
She waved her hand and gulped down her chocolate milk.The liquid clung to her upper lip when she replied, “I’m not a baby, Dad.”
Ginny’s arm bumped into his when she reached across the booth to hand Lex a napkin. He wrote it off as an accident, an unintended touch, but when she lowered her hand back under the table, her fingers rested against his knee.
His wife was a loser for having been married to him, Ginny had said. Which was very similar to what Hayley herself had said during their divorce.
Hell, it’s what his mom had said to his dad, so … Maybe it was a generational thing. He was good for hitting people over the back of the head with a bat, but not so great for a relationship. That was totally fine. He didn’t need or want a relationship. He’d gotten what he wanted from Ginny last night.
And if the way her hand was caressing his leg was anything to go by, maybe again soon. That was all he needed. Physical connection. That was all he wanted, anyway. If Ginny ever realized how much of a walking, talking scab he was—a disgusting, oozing shell covering over a multitude of anxieties and failures, and anxieties about those failures—well. She’d run away screaming, like Hayley did.
Her phone rang. Ginny squeezed his thigh before reaching into her pocket and pulling it out. “I don’t know this number, but it’s local,” she said. “Maybe the po—” She stopped, looking at Lex across the booth who was busy drowning the rest of her waffle in maple syrup. “I’m going to take this outside. Be right back.”
Shepherd nodded and super-subtly watched her walk away.
Lex grunted around a mouthful of syrup. Like she’d spooned it in when he wasn’t looking. “Jeez, Dad. Have some self-respect.”
He swore, rubbed at his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mimicked, her voice as low as she could make it. “You’re embarrassing me. You’re embarrassing yourself. Pull yourself together! She’s your girlfriend, Dad. You don’t need to look soin loveall the time.”
“I donot! And I am not.” He huffed. “The disrespect. From my child, from my employees. Oh God. I should call Noah.”
Lex went, “Duh,” and put another spoonful of syrup in her mouth.
Shepherd called Noah, who answered on the third ring with a breathless “Dude!”
“Sorry,” Shepherd replied, “things came up with Ginny’s family.”
