Page 30 of After Care

“She’s only eighteen,” I added. “She’s still in high school.”

“I know,” he sighed, combing back his hair. “I know.” Frustration filled his face, and I realized this young man had a crush on my daughter. He was trying to do the right thing, I hoped, because he was just that much older. It was a real struggle.

“Do I need to say you shouldn’t see her again?”

West stopped moving. His hand no longer swept his hair.

“I really wouldn’t like that request.” His honesty was refreshing. “But I’ll respect it, if that’s what you wish.”

I shifted my bag, jutting out my hip.

“I think Masie would kill me if I did that.”

West looked at me, a slow smile gracing his lips, and two dimples formed around it. He was really cute, and I could see Masie’s attraction to him.

“You need to keep things in check,” I warned, repeating the words I’d said to Masie, and feeling guilty once again that I wasn’t following my own rule.

“Definitely.” West stepped forward and unexpectedly hugged me. The move was so sudden, I staggered after he released me. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Mrs. Williams. See you later,” he shouted as he walked away, his voice sounding lighter.

I turned for the Jeep when I heard Caleb call my name from three stories up.

“Mom, hang on. I’m coming with you.”

+ + +

My son loved to shop. It was a strange thing, but I assumed he’d grown into it because he was always with Masie and me, until he started playing baseball and guitar. He especially loved athletic shoes, which could get pretty pricey, the larger his feet grew. As we walked the shopping strip, we wandered in and out of touristy boutiques, overcrowded with people who had the same idea as us on a cloudy day in Hawaii.

Caleb also loved graphic tees, and we spent more time trying to get him to make a decision on one or two than anything else. Eventually, he gave me time to visit a few dress shops, and I picked up three new dresses, perfect for summer back home. Most places we entered were over my price point despite the hole-burning credit card, but I was happy with the items I purchased, feeling slightly relieved from this morning’s misunderstandings.

“Masie called Dad,” Caleb told me as we ate lunch. I hated when she did things like that. Not because it was hurtful to me, but because it would only lead to a broken heart for her. I could only imagine how the conversation went:

What did your mother do?

Do you miss me?

Talk soon.

He didn’t care what I did, only that I did something to make our children reach out for him. He had no backbone when it came to discipline, so I always looked like the bad parent. On top of that, asking if our child missed him was only reassurance to his ego. He never told them he missed them. Why would he? He had a carefree life, living on a boat on the lake for a bit and then moving into a condo in downtown Chicago. The last statement—talk soon—was always a lie, setting the kids up for false hope. David rarely followed through with call backs and visits. He attended what he could, when he could, he said. My heart ached that Masie thought her father would give her comfort after this morning.

“And, what did he say?” I asked, drawing in a deep breath.

“The usual,” Caleb shrugged. Caleb didn’t really have it as bad as Masie. He was already off to college when the divorce happened, and as baseball was David’s number one priority for Caleb, his father hardly missed any of his games. Caleb fulfilled David’s dream, but I often worried it wasn’t our son’s.

Hours passed. We shopped. We strolled. My son was a funny man, and I enjoyed his company. As we neared the Jeep, I saw another man leaning against it, his back to the spare tire, foot pressed to the bumper. He concentrated on his phone as his fingers typed frantically. Approaching slowly, I looked up at Caleb.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing,” Caleb said, holding up his hands as if in surrender. “Nothing, I swear.” But I knew my son, and he winked. Tommy straightened as we approached.

“You have been so damn hard to find, darlin’,” he drawled, inhaling and looking relieved. My brows pinched as I glanced at Caleb.

“Keys,” my son said, holding out his hands.

“Wait.” Tommy held up his hand. “Did you buy a pretty dress?” His eyes roved to the bags in my hand.

“I did.” My brows pinched as I thought of my new things.

“Slip one on.”