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I tense at the sudden change in her tone, from flippant to shocked within half a word.
“No… no… no,” she chants before saying, “Get the fuck out of here.”
I look out of the kitchen, toward the front door, heart wildly racing. Jonathan stands on the small stoop in front of my apartment, a mere few feet in front of his sister.
“Meghan,” he says, nodding to her in greeting.
The moment he says her name, the shock wears away, replaced by anger as her eyes narrow.
“No,” she says, matter-of-fact, slamming the door right in his face.
Maddie jumps at the sound of the bang.
“Meghan,” I groan. “Please.”
I don’t need a scene, not one I’ll have to try to explain. Meghan yanks the door back open. Jonathan still stands there, having not moved at all.
Maddie gasps, noticing him, and jumps down from her chair at the table, snatching up her drawing as she runs for the door. “Jonathan!”
“Hey,” he says, avoiding looking at his sister, instead smiling at Maddie.
“You’re back!” She shoves her paper at him. “I was making you a picture!”
“Wow,” he says, looking at it. “It’s amazing.”
“It’s not done,” she says, snatching it back from him, “but all I gotta do is the people now, because Mommy drawed the stars!”
“Well, they’re some great stars,” he says, meeting my gaze. “I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”
“You can have it when it’s done,” she tells him. “Are you gonna stay? You can play with me and Aunt Meghan!”
Meghan makes a noise.
“Not tonight,” he says. “I just came by to talk to your mom for a minute.”
Maddie frowns, mumbling, “okay,” before she shuffles away.
Jonathan closes his eyes, letting out a deep sigh. I can tell he wants to change his mind.
“Maybe tomorrow,” I chime in, stepping in Maddie’s path so she’ll stop walking. Grasping her chin, I tilt her head up, making her look at me. “It’s kind of late to be playing tonight, anyway.”
“Tomorrow,” Jonathan agrees. “I’ll be here.”
Her eyes light up, disappointment fading.
“See you tomorrow!” she yells back at him before wrapping her arms around me. “Love you, Mommy.”
“Love you, too,” I say, “more than banana Popsicles and Hawaiian pizza.”
“More than the dates with your friend?”
“Oh, pfft, of course.” I playfully squeeze her cheeks. “More than dates with anybody.”
Leaning down, I give her a quick kiss before she runs off to her bedroom. The second she’s out of the room, the second she’s out of earshot, Meghan’s voice cuts in, a low growl as she says, “You better bring your ass back here tomorrow, little brother, because if you lied to her right in front of me, I swear to God…”
“I said I’ll be here,” he says, turning to look at Meghan, his expression hard. “I’m not going to lie to her.”
“Oh! Is that right?”
“Yes,” he says.
“Well, excuse me!” She throws her hands up. “Stupid me, should’ve known… I mean, you’ve only lied to every-fucking-body else. Forgot you were daddy of the year.”
“Now’s not the time for this,” I grumble, stalking over and coming between them. “Sort this out when there aren’t little ears nearby.”
I push Jonathan away from the apartment as I step outside, shutting the front door behind me to give us some privacy. Otherwise, Meghan might be inclined to add her commentary, like my life is an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000.
“Sorry about this,” he says, motioning toward the apartment. “I forgot, well, that you had plans.”
“It’s fine,” I say. “What did you need to talk to me about?”
“I just… I was thinking.”
He’s hesitating. Stalling. I can tell he’s nervous from the way he averts his gaze. “About?”
“About something that girl said at your work.”
My brow furrows, and it takes a moment before I figure out who he means. “Bethany?”
“Is that her name?” He stares off into space, mumbling, “Bethany.”
“You met her once,” I tell him. “She came to the set. Said she saw you outside of a bar.”
He lets out a light laugh. “Ah, right. Bethany. She asked me about that time I got arrested.”
She did. She told me about it. And all I can think is how incredibly happy she’d be to know he remembered her.
“Anyway,” he says, that nervousness creeping back in. “Bethany mentioned wanting time off so she could go to that thing.”
“The convention?”
“Yeah, you know, for the Breezeo shit, and I was thinking, and just wondering…”
“Wondering what?”
“If maybe I could take Madison?”
It takes a moment for those words to sink in, for what he’s asking me to register. I blink at him, at a loss for words, a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to think. A voice in the back of my mind is screaming out, on defense, terrified by that, but my heart—my stupid, stupid heart—is soaring at him wanting to do that with her.
