Page 78 of After Care

Masie’s spring break coincided with spring training games for Caleb. David not only offered miles and points for this trip, but he’d had slightly renewed interest in communication with me because of the trip. I wasn’t naïve enough to not be suspicious. My inner knowledge of him told me to hold on; the other shoe would drop eventually. However, he sounded sincere at moments, and I wondered if he felt the same as me. Our children were outgrowing us.

“It’s the last time we can really be together as a family,” he said, hinting at Masie’s impending high school graduation. I wanted to scream that the last time we’d been a family was over three years ago, and officially longer than that, but an eerie sensation prevented me from arguing. David teetered on the brink of being an absentee dad, and I feared that Masie’s graduation would sever ties with his daughter. He didn’t know how to communicate with his children, unless they were doing something he wanted them to do. Thus, Caleb had a connection with his father because of baseball. Masie, not so much.

I was worn down by work, the weather, and the wayward thoughts of Tommy when we finally left for Arizona. I needed the long weekend respite Max allowed me to take, and looked forward to time with my children. The sunshine alone would do me good, I decided, and I went into the trip full of hope for rest and relaxation.

“You look different,” David said, eyeing me as we stood in the hotel lobby. I didn’t see my ex-husband often. He’d been one of those men on the edge of model good-looking. Angular cheeks. Sparkling eyes. A dimple in his cheek that melted panties. It stung me that he was aging well: fine lines by his brown eyes, salt and pepper mixing in his once dark hair. But the swollen jowls of his neck told me he still indulged in too much alcohol.

We hadn’t flown together, but we coordinated enough to meet at the airport and ride to the hotel together. His eyes continued to skim over my body, taking in the skinny jeans and fitted T-shirt I’d worn, and the flip-flops at my feet.

“You look good.” He spoke as if the comment surprised him, and I hated him a little more. There were so many times I’d look at him and try to remember I once loved him. Then he’d say something that would remind me why I no longer did.

We were called forward to register, and I beamed heat into the back of his head, noticing a slight balding that strangely pleased me. He’d traded me in for a younger model on a whim that ended before we divorced. I’d never recovered from the betrayal. His freedom meant he partied harder than previously. My head shook, willing away thoughts I didn’t want to envision because I no longer cared.

“Where’s my room?” I snapped as we stood by the concierge desk, checking into the hotel, and I watched the desk clerk slide one envelope to David.

“I only had enough points to book one room.” If David had hit me over the head with a baseball bat, I’d be less surprised.

“You what?”

“Do you know how expensive it is here at this time of year? Not to mention how full most of these places are because of the pre-season games?” He tapped the keycards on the counter and took the pen from the pretty young thing working the desk. After signing a receipt, he slid a card to me.

“I can’t believe this,” I muttered, turning for my bag. Masie stood a few feet back from us, typing on her phone. The sight reminded me to text Tommy. He wanted to know we arrived safely and checked in. He wasn’t pleased with my travelling with my ex-husband but he understood the concept of family, no matter how loosely ours was linked.

Made it here. I sent.

What room you in?

Without considering the question, I replied: 323.

The elevator dinged, and we each entered, pulling our suitcases behind us. I lost connection for a second in the lift and slipped my phone back in my bag. Entering the room, I silently seethed as I noticed the two queen-sized beds and rather tight space. Clearly, Masie and I would be sharing a bed, but the thought of being in the same room with David made me uneasy. Had I known this was the arrangement, I would have booked something myself. I sat with a huff on the edge of a bed.

Hardly a minute passed before a knock came to the door. David looked around at our bags, taking stock that we brought up our own luggage. Shrugging, he walked for the entrance and opened it.

“Who the fuck are you?” The slight accent and gruff tone, sharp on the k sound could only be one man. I stood and turned for the door.

“Tommy?” A smile broke on my face at the welcome surprise of him, however, my expression quickly shifted when I saw the look in his eyes. Cold black steel.

“What the fuck is this?”

“This is my room,” David interjected. “And you clearly have the wrong one.”

“Where’s your room, darlin’?” Tommy asked, ignoring David, and attempting to pass him for entrance into the small space. David’s hand came up and pressed toward Tommy.

“What do you think you’re doing?” The calmness to his defensive tone almost made me laugh. The comparison between the two men was night and day. Lion and mouse. Sunshine and snow. Tommy was black T-shirt and dark jeans—broad, powerful, confident. David, on the other hand, was thick from alcohol, demeaning in tone, but weak in presence with his golf shirt and khaki pants.

“I’m getting my girl,” Tommy announced, brushing past David and strutting to me. His hands cupped my face, and while I anticipated a kiss, none came. His cold eyes searched mine, thick thumbs stroking over my cheeks.

“What’s going on here?” David barked behind Tommy.

“Where’s your room, darlin’?” Something shifted in Tommy’s eyes, the darkness lightning to confusion.

“I don’t have one. I didn’t know he only booked us one.” A hand slipped from my face. The other stilled its caresses. His eyes shifted to coal again.

“For the two of you?”

“For the three of us.” I waved a hand out at Masie, who stood between the beds, watching this awkward interchange between her mother, her father, and her mother’s lover. Tommy turned toward her.

“Hey, Tommy,” she said, waving weakly.