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She nods, frustration on her small face. After taking the ketchup bottle from her hands, I squeeze some onto her plate into the spot where she’s pointing. Who knew a small act, like helping my child get ketchup on her plate, could make me feel so wanted?
Lilah and I make forced conversation through the rest of dinner, and I try to engage Monica as best I can. Although I feel as though Lilah is studying me like a delinquent parent who can’t be left alone with his own child. I hope she remembers I’m an absentee parent because of her doing.
Monica ends up eating the majority of her chicken after covering every single piece with ketchup.
She’s sucking on her popsicle when the bark of a dog sounds from outside. “Mommy, can I go play with Charlie?”
“Who’s Charlie?” I ask.
“Our next-door neighbor's dog. Monica is in love with him and the lady who lives there watches Monica for me sometimes.” She moves her attention from me to Monica. “You can go play with him for a bit, but I don’t want any arguments when it’s time to come in for your bath.”
“Pinkie swear,” she says and sticks out her hand with her pinkie finger extended.
I suck in a breath, rearing back in my seat.
Lilah looks guiltily at me quickly before she locks fingers with Monica. “Come on, I’ll take you over and make sure it’s okay with Eileen. I’ll be back in a minute.”
They leave the kitchen and head out the front door. I sit there by myself for a minute and look around the room, trying to picture their daily life. Does Monica stand on a stool so she can reach the butcher board counter and help Lilah make cookies? Where do the two of them normally eat? Is it different tonight because I’m here? What cereal does Monica like for breakfast?
These are all questions I don’t know the answer to because Lilah kept her from me. I’m not usually an angry guy, but it keeps rushing up my throat like indigestion. Nothing, then all of a sudden, bam, I’m about to go ballistic.
I push back from the table and gather the plates, bringing them to the counter. I need something to occupy my mind before I can’t control my anger. The last thing I want to do is to explode on Lilah in front of Monica. The little girl will cast me as the villain.
I’m rinsing off the plates and stacking them in the dishwasher when Lilah returns.
“Sorry I took so long. Eileen was digging into me about who my company is.” She shrugs. “Small town.”
“What did you tell her?”Did you tell her that he’s the father of your child and you kept from him knowing about her for six years? But I don’t say that, knowing it will take us down a path we won’t veer off of tonight.
Tonight, all I want is to spend time with my daughter.
“Just that you’re an old friend who came to visit. You don’t have to do this. Why don’t you go sit and I’ll clean up?” She steps up to the sink with her hand out for the dish in mine, but I ignore her.
“I’m perfectly capable of loading a dishwasher.”
“Oh, you don’t have a housekeeper and personal chef who do your bidding now that you’ve made it big time?” She attempts to pass off her comment as a joke, but the bite in her tone keeps the humor from coming across.
“We have a housekeeper who comes once a week, but I’m not waited on hand and foot.”
I don’t tell her that Adelaide wants someone there full time and I had to fight her not to hire us a personal chef. I enjoy cooking. I don’t want that taken away from me.
“Speaking of your home, how is Adelaide?” She picks up the condiments and places them back in the fridge.
My phone rings in the back pocket of my shorts, and I pull it out to look at the screen. “Speak of the devil. Mind if I take this out on the porch?”
Her head is in the fridge, but she shakes her head.
I texted my fiancée last night to say that I was exhausted and heading to bed before she wrapped on set for the night, not sure how to explain to her where I was and what was going on. I’m still not sure, but I don’t want her to worry needlessly, so I have to take this call even if the timing sucks.
“Hey,” I say, wandering toward the front door.
“Hi, sweetie, how are you?”
“Good. You? How’re re-shoots going?”
“Ugh. Not bad, I guess, but the weather isn’t cooperating. I swear, does it have to rain every day in this damn city?”
I chuckle. “I sense some frustration.”
