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“Sorry, Mommy,” she says, her eyes still on Adelaide.
“Hello, Adelaide,” I say, hoping there’s pleasure in my tone. The two of us need to get off on the right foot for Monica.
“Lilah.” She nods once and returns her attention to Monica, staring at her as though she’s inspecting every feature down to her freckles.
I ignore the urge to tear Monica out of Jimmy’s arms, shut and lock the door.
Adelaide’s still as beautiful as ever, though her hair is shorter than when I last saw her. But it’s easy to see why Jimmy would be attracted to her. She’s a Hollywood starlet.
“This is my fiancée, Adelaide,” he says, setting Monica down and stepping to the side to place his hand behind Adelaide.
“What’s a fiancée?” she asks with her nose scrunched up in the adorable way she does when she doesn’t understand something.
“A fiancée is the person you’re going to marry.”
Monica’s expression slackens, and she draws back. “Why would you marry her? Why wouldn’t you marry Mommy?” She turns to look at me, and my stomach sinks. “Mommies and daddies get married.”
Oh no. We really should have prepped her for this.
“Kiddo, Jimmy and I aren’t getting married. He’s marrying Adelaide.” Heat flares in my cheeks at having to say that as if it’s the best thing ever and we should both be over the moon about it. In front of Adelaide no less.
“No!” She stomps her foot. “I want you and Mommy to get married!”
He glances at me, looking bewildered.
“Monica, that’s rude. Now say hello to Adelaide.”
“No!” Before I can stop her, she races down the hallway, tears streaming down her small cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I had no idea she felt that way. She’s never said anything.”
Adelaide’s lips are pinched tight and her eyes narrowed as if she’s a witch who's casting a spell for me to disappear.
“She’s never let on that she thought we were going to get married. I fucked this up.” Jimmy pushes a hand through his hair.
I hold up my hand. “No, you didn’t. Give me a minute. I'll go talk to her.”
“Let me.” He steps forward, silently asking permission.
Technically this is his rodeo, so I step out of the way and nod. Forgetting that leaves me and Adelaide alone in the awkwardness.
I clear my throat. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“I’m good,” she says and steps farther into the house, eyeing every inch.
“I was just going to start dinner. You can join me if you want.”
If I’m going to teach my daughter how to be polite, I have to set the example, when I’d really like to ask her how being second-best feels. If this woman is so important to Jimmy’s life, she’ll be my daughter’s stepmom and spend time alone with her. I don’t want her taking any of her issues with me out on Monica.
She follows me into the kitchen and sits at the kitchen table.
“Hope you like tacos,” I say, sliding the ground beef into the waiting pan. I turn the burner on medium.
When she doesn’t respond, I turn to look at her and see that she’s typing on her phone, paying me no attention. Great. The awkward silence continues while I chop up the lettuce and tomatoes until I can’t stand it any longer.
“How are the wedding plans coming along?” I ask, figuring any bride is probably happy to discuss her wedding.
She slides her phone into her purse and grants me her attention. “Everything is pretty much done now, but it’s been a lot of work by myself, what with Jimmy spending all his weekends here.”
