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“Great. Thanks for calling.” I hit the end button and shove my phone in the back pocket of my shorts.
“Who’s that?” Jimmy asks without looking at me.
I walk over to stand beside him and mimic his position on the railing so I won’t have to look at him. “You remember the guy who came over to our table at the diner?”
He turns his head to look at me, and I reluctantly meet his gaze. “Mmmhmm.”
“We’ve been out on a few dates. He wanted to see if I'm free tomorrow night.”
“You don’t want to go?”
“It’s not that…” I look at my foot pushed between the spindles of the railing. “We can get together in a couple of weeks. There’s a lot going on right now.”
I have no idea why I feel guilty talking about this with him, but I do. The man is engaged to be married to one of Hollywood’s biggest stars. He doesn’t care what I do with my love life, except how it affects Monica.
He’s silent for a while, and the only sound are the crickets chirping away in the heat of the night.
“Have you dated much since Monica was born?” he asks.
I school my reaction, hoping I come off casual. “Um… no. Parker is the first man I’ve been out with since…”
I don’t have to finish the sentence. We both know the way things ended between us.
If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it, remaining stone-faced and emotionless. He pushes off the porch railing and circles behind me to the porch steps. “What time should I be here tomorrow morning?”
“Eight thirty is good. I have to start at nine.”
He pushes his hands into the front pockets of his shorts and nods, then walks down the stairs and heads to his rental car.
I can’t help but watch him climb inside the vehicle, reverse down the driveway, and drive off. As his taillights creep farther out of my sight, I wonder if I’ll ever not miss him when he’s gone.
Chapter Fifty-seven
JIMMY
When I got back to the motel last night, I called Adelaide. She didn’t pick up. The text I sent her hasn’t been answered either.
Things between us haven't improved in the week since I dropped my bombshell on her. I’m not sure what she’s more upset about—the fact that I sought Lilah out in the first place or what I found once I did.
Having her ice me out pisses me off, but I can’t worry about her right now because today I’m spending the day with my daughter. Just her and me. Lilah’s let us have our alone time, but she’s always close by. Today, it’s just us, and I can’t wait to be one hundred percent responsible for Monica.
I pull into Lilah’s driveway and park off to the side so she’ll be able to get her vehicle out.
It isn’t until I’m taking the porch steps two at a time that I remember my conversation with Lilah last night. The unwanted irritation that pierced me when another man called her and the satisfaction that eased that irritation when I learned that she’s remained celibate since I saw her last.
Guilt swiftly kicked in last night, because we were sharing an intimate moment. I shouldn’t know how many partners she’s had since me, and I damn well shouldn’t feel relief that there've been none. I don’t want to share moments like that with Lilah anymore. Our conversations need to stay on Monica at all times.
My hand is raised to knock, but before I can, Monica barrels toward me. “Jimmy!”
Warmth invades my chest and spreads down my limbs. I smile and pull open the screen door. “Hey, Monica.”
She runs into me, hugging my waist and looking up at me with wide eyes that match my own. “Mommy said we get to spend the whole day together!”
I nod and spot Lilah walking down the hallway.
“Hey,” she says.
She’s dressed in pink scrubs with her name embroidered above her left breast, and her hair is pulled into a messy bun on top of her head. I’m not sure why seeing her name on her scrubs pulls out that feeling of pride. Maybe because embroidered means permanent and the Lilah from six years ago rarely wanted anything permanent.
