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Ryan was nothing, if not determined. “You can’t leave Daddy.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “And why the hell not? Are you and Derek and Roman the only ones allowed to go out and live your dreams? I’m supposed to stay here and take care of the cantankerous old man.”
“That cantankerous old man is your father,” he roared.
“Yeah well e’s yours too and that didn’t make you stick around, not any of you.” Ryan’s words made me angry, no that’s not right, they pissed me off. “I stayed here and worked with Daddy while you traveled the world and got rich. What did I get? Divorced and stuck in a career that’s going nowhere. That’s going to change, whether you like it or not.”
“Yeah, and what’s Daddy supposed to do?”
“What he’s always done, everything! I’ll tell you what Ryan, if you’re so worried, then you go work at the paper. Maybe he won’t treat you like you’re incompetent and seek out every mistake each morning.”
Ryan opened his mouth to say more but Pippa quieted him with a hand on his thigh. “What will you do instead?”
“I’m working on a few things,” I told her kindly, appreciative that she was being supportive. “I’ll be fine. I won’t do anything until my plan is fully fleshed out.” With the divorce settlement, alimony and child support provided a nice cushion.
“I can’t believe you’re going to leave him high and dry.”
“Screw you, Ryan. Would you stick around if the label suddenly wanted to record only other people’s songs? Pop songs, sugary and repetitive?” We both knew the answer to that. “But it’s all right for poor little Lacey, right?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Yeah, you did actually. But thank you. It’s nice to know that your opinion of me is no different than Daddy’s. I’m out of here.” I didn’t stick around for his apologies or explanations because I wouldn’t believe them anyway. Instead of grabbing something delicious from Dark Horse, I left quickly and went straight home to contemplate my next move.
Now that I said the words out loud to Pippa and Ryan, they felt true. It was time to move on, to do my own thing, whatever that was. For starters, I spent the afternoon looking into blogging. There was more to it than just picking a quirky blog name and start typing, but I was confident it was something I could do, and hopefully earn some money doing it.
By the time Stevie came home from cheerleading practice, I had an outline of a plan and I had a timeline to put it into action. Maybe. Hopefully.
“Hey Stevie, how was your day?”
“Good!” She brightened up and started with her favorite part of the day, cheerleading practice. “I finally perfected my arabesque and went straight into a liberty stand. It was so cool, Mom.”
“That’s great, Stevie. I guess that summer camp was worth it.”
Her smile widened. “Totally worth it. I learned so much, even Coach Matthews has noticed. What’s for dinner?”
“Tacos. You can make the salsa.” We worked in the kitchen with music playing in the background. Stevie and I were a team and we had been way before my marriage fell apart.
“The whole jalapeno or just half,” she asked with a teasing smile.
“Seed half of it and use the whole thing. Unless you’re too scared?”
Stevie jutted her chin out, looking a lot like her father. “Challenge, accepted.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s your tummy, not mine.”
“It all looks so good, Mom but I’ll tip right over in my arabesque if we keep eating like this. Salad tomorrow night, please?”
“Done.”
“So,” she wiggled her eyebrows and took the seat directly across from me before she started to build her first taco. “You and Levi, what’s the deal?”
“No deal,” I assured her. “We’re colleagues, possibly friends.”
“Why? I like him. He’s funny and charming and pretty decent looking for an old guy.” She spoke like a dating expert and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“You want me to date a decent looking old guy? Thanks kiddo.”
“Mom,” she whined and rolled her eyes. “It’s okay if you want to date, I think you should. It’s time.”
It’s only been six months but everyone kept telling me that it was time to move on as if I was pining after my ex-husband. “It’s been a few months.”
“Mom it’s been like two years. Don’t wallow in this, please. It’s not healthy.”
“I’m not,” I assured her. “I’m really not. It’s not about your father, I’m just not sure that I’m ready to trust another person like that.” Even though things with Martin had never been terrible, they had been bland and boring, but I trusted him not to hurt or betray me. And he had, terribly. “I’m happy though Stevie, so please don’t waste a moment of your time worrying about me.”
“You’re my mom, of course I worry about you.” She rolled her eyes as if that were the most obvious thing in the world. “But boys are fun. They smell nice and they’re cute. And Mr. Branson has lots of stories that will make you laugh, have a good time.”
