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“Charlotte, you’re all class.”
She gives him a thin, social smile. “Thanks.”
She doesn’t give him more encouragement, but Chip, being Chip, can’t stop sucking up to her. She’s everything he imagines he should have by his side. Charlie isn’t just pretty. Pretty girls are a dime a dozen around guys like Chip. No, Charlie is like Reese’s thoroughbreds. One look at her and you know she’s expensive.
And Chip wants that. Oh, he might dabble in the gutter with girls like me, but Charlie’s the type he wants to be photographed with. When he dumped me, he said he could take me out of the trailer park but cheap would always remain visible.
I run a self-conscious hand over my skirt. I look good today. Professional even. Screw Chip.
We sit down to dinner and Chip starts up again as we’re passing the tortillas around. He observes Cassidy with all the warmth of a long-suffering chaperone on a field trip.
“The child is surprisingly well mannered,” he comments, as she thanks Nick for putting beans on her plate. “All things considering.”
Nick shoots him a fairly hostile look. “Considering what, man?”
“Lainey’s a single mom. Statistically, kids from single-parent households struggle.” Chip taps his fork on the table. “But this one”—he dips his head toward my angel—“appears to have learned a few things.”
I hate that he talks about her like she’s not there. It’s made worse by the fact he won’t even say her name. I place a protective hand on the top of her head and glare at him. He hasn’t ever acknowledged Cassidy or me and never will. I don’t care. It is far better for Cassidy to have no father than one who despises her.
And who can’t be bothered to hide his disgust.
He turns to Charlie again. “It’s good of you to lend a helping hand. I’ve always thought you had a generous spirit.”
Charlie is barely able to keep a straight face. “It’s the other way around; Lainey’s always helping me. If I didn’t have her around, my slip would be showing and I’d constantly have lipstick on my teeth.”
“If you could find your lipstick,” Nick jokes.
The three of us share a smile at Charlie’s forgetfulness. She’s just got so much going on that the little things escape her, which is what she has me for.
Chip doesn’t like being left out. He places his elbows on the table and leans toward Charlie while Nick looks on with faint amusement. We both know that even if the guy at the table weren’t Chip, the asshole, Charlie would be immune. She loves one person and one person only, no matter how many times she wants to deny it.
“I’m a big fan of kids myself,” Chip interjects.
I choke on my mouthful of fajita.
“You okay, Mommy?” Cassidy asks, as I cough and cover my mouth with a napkin. My eyes begin to water, but Chip doesn’t even look my way. His attention is wholly fixed on Charlie.
“I like children,” she says slowly, as if she can’t quite figure out his angle.
“How many kids would you want?”
“I don’t know. I suppose that depends upon my partner.”
“I always felt like two is a good number.”
“Not me,” Nick interrupts. “I think I’d like to have about five. Philip Rivers has eight.”
“Who’s that?” Cassidy asks.
Chip sighs heavily. Clearly his two children would be seen but not heard.
“Used to be a quarterback like me, honey,” Nick says and rolls up her little fajita for her.
I reach to tap her glass to remind her to drink her milk. She has the same idea and our hands collide. Mine pushes hers awkwardly and her glass of milk spills, splashing on Chip’s plate.
“Oh no,” she cries.
I jump up and bump the table, which knocks the entire bowl of fajita filling into Chip’s lap.
“Goddammit you—”
Nick cuts him off with a sharp warning. “Chip!”
Chip jerks his head up and swallows whatever spiteful, mean thing he was going to say. But he’s fuming. He brushes at his pants front, which is now doused with food and meat sauce.
“What’s a five-year-old doing with a regular glass? Don’t you have that spill-proof crap?”
“Come on. I have a pair of sweatpants you can change into.” Nick jerks his head towards his bedroom.
For a moment, Chip wavers between bitching me out and following Nick. Charlie jumps in.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” she says. She tugs on his arm, and between her and Nick, the two lead Chip away.
“I’m sorry,” Cassidy weeps. Her little face is scrunched up in dismay.
I wipe her tears away with the side of my sleeve. “It’s no big deal, baby.”
She presses her baby face into my belly and mumbles, “I don’t think he’s very nice.”
That’s putting it mildly. “Can you go and put your stuff in Mama’s bag?”
“We leaving?” she sniffles.
“Yeah, but we’re going to stop at McDonald’s on the way home. ’Kay?”
