“Lola can watch her. As many times as I’ve allowed her nieces to come to the office, she owes me. That’s if you’re comfortable.”
“If you trust her, so do I.”
“Okay, it’s a date,” he said, pulling his phone out and helping me down. I went to check in on Cadence and found her in her reading nook.
“Hey, Sugar. What are you doing?”
“I’m coloring myself as a princess,” she said, showing me the coloring book that I realized was all of her in different outfits and settings.
“You’ve got such a good daddy.”
“The best. But I got the best mommy too.”
“Thank you, love. Would you mind if Mommy and Daddy went out for a little while? Miss Lola would stay with you.”
She looked up from her coloring book, crayon paused mid-stroke.
“You’re coming back, right?”
“Always, baby.”
“Okay.” She was already back to coloring. “Can I stay up a little late so we can play nails?”
“Yes, but only an extra hour. We’ve got a busy weekend.”
“Okay, mommy.”
I stood and exited the room, still in shock that we were here and here together. Life was crazy like that, but I wasn’t complaining. As nervous as I was, I knew this weekend was important to Ducane. I was here to support him if nothing else.
Lola showed up at seven sharp in flats and a cardigan, a tote of crafts and snacks over her shoulder, looking nothing like the woman who terrified grown executives over the phone.
“Go,” she told us, already setting up a tea party on Cadence’s new floor. “She’s in good hands. I’ve got three nieces. Nothing this child can do that I haven’t already seen.”
Cadence didn’t even look up to say bye to us. Traitor.
Ducane took me to a place downtown with no sign on the door, just a host who knew him by name and walked us straight back to a corner booth. The lighting was low and gold. A jazz trio played in the corner. He ordered for both of us without looking at a menu and reached across the table to hold my hand the whole time, his thumb running over my knuckles.
“So.” He watched me over his glass. “What do you think? Of all of it.”
“It’s a lot fancier than I expected.” I shrugged, playing it down, even as I kept softening toward him more than I planned to. “I thought I’d hate this place.”
“I did.”
“Really?”
“Hell yeah, and for a while. Then I got tired of letting grief make every decision for me.” He smiled without much humor. “So, I built a good life anyway. Call it spite. Call it survival. Either way...it worked.”
I was about to respond when a shadow fell over the table.
“Nah. Tell me my eyes are deceiving me.”
I looked up, and into a face I’d seen on three album covers and about a hundred billboards. Mudd. In the flesh, in a restaurant, grinning down at my husband like he’d found money in an old coat.
Ducane stood, and the two of them did that handshake-into-hug thing men do when the love is real.
“Man, you supposed to be laying low.”
“I’m a free citizen, thanks to you.” Mudd’s eyes cut to me, and his whole face changed, warm, curious. “And who is this?Because this ain’t the same energy you been walking around with, brother. You used to come to my spot looking like the IRS.”
