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“Yeah, and they’re getting it all on film.”
I nod to the cameras taking it all in.
“Rooster will be pissed,” Bernie says.
“Yeah, and no matter what we do, they won’t be watching us.”
Bernie grins at me and I know we’ll have more than two or three drinks. That’s fine by me. I can do with an escape. I never used to drink a lot but lately, it helps to manage all the stress and pressure and I don’t need to watch my fitness so much.
I follow Bernie to the bar and we order beer. This doesn’t have to be so bad; I just need to get my bad mood straightened out and get my head back in the game.
I’ll do my date with Michelle because it’s what she paid for. I’ll handle my press release, and that will be it for this chapter in my life.
Chapter 6
Natalie
When I get Kylie back on Sunday, I want to spend the afternoon with her. It’s not that I was so incredibly lonely—sometimes it’s good to have a bit of time to myself—but it’s been me and her against the world for so long, I don’t always know how to let go.
Kylie can’t stop talking about how much fun she had at Jenna’s house.
“I’m glad you had such a good time, honey,” I say when we walk into the kitchen.
“Yeah, sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a sister.”
I still at that. “Is that something you would like?”
“I want a sister like Jenna.”
I smile. “I don’t think it’s always that simple.” I take ingredients for cookies from the cupboards and point to the pantry where Kylie can fetch the flour and plastic bowls we’ll use for mixing.
“Why not?” Kylie asks.
“Because it’s not always fun and games when you share a house. And you will have to share your toys, your room…”
Kylie tilts her head to one side, thinking about it. I measure out cups of flour.
“I think I’d like to try one day, even if it might not be so much fun.”
I smile at her, but a pang of sadness shoots into my chest.
“Why do you look sad?” Kylie asks.
I force a smile. “I was just thinking—” I pull myself up short before I say the words.
“Were you thinking about Dad?” Kylie asks simply.
I nod. “I still get sad sometimes because I miss him.”
“Can we look at the photos again?” Kylie asks.
I freeze. “Of course,” I say. “Always.” It’s important to me that Kylie remember him. I always want her to remember where she comes from and how much he loved her.
I don’t have a lot of photos around the house—seeing him all the time hurts too much. But we have an album we page through from time to time. It has all the good times captured in time, solidifying our happiness even after he’s gone.
“Let’s get these cookies in the oven and then we’ll get out the album,” I say.
“I don’t remember what he was like anymore,” Kylie admits. “I sort of remember him, but not like I remember you.”
