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Pulling her into a hug, I feel this immense privilege to have been the one to raise her, because I know she is who she is because of me, and me alone. Maybe she trusts me, but I’m not sure I have the same faith. I’ve messed up before, I could do it again.
When she breaks our hug, she looks at me with a serious expression, and says, “I’m going to break up with Grayson.”
21
TURN IT UP
Kashmir by Samvel Ayrapetyan
“Mom!” I hear Noelle’s voice through the fog of sleep. “Get up,” she hisses, and that’s when I hear the knocking on the front door.
“Shit,” I curse and fling myself out of bed, hurrying into my closet to throw on some clothes.
Racing down the hallway past Noelle, I slide into home plate right in front of the front door. On the other side stands Adrian, who I wasn’t sure would show up today to finish my flooring, but I should have known better than to underestimate his professionalism.
Running my fingers through my hair before opening the door, he stands, feet apart, bandana pulling his dark hair back, a few pieces sticking out over his ears, brown eyes that I have been accustomed to staring at me with such intensity that my stomach drops, tan carpenter boots, and jeans so weighted down with his utility belt that it makes them sit low on his hips. He’s too fucking pretty not to stare at, and I’m a stupid woman if I ever thought I could kick him out of my bed, but I can’t think for the life of me what he sees in the mess of a woman standing in front of him.
Stepping aside without a word, I let him through. Flying past him is a toddler with blonde hair pulled into pigtails on either side of her head, and my eyes fly over to Adrian who is setting his equipment down on my kitchen island. Finlay follows quickly behind and scoops her up in his arms while she dissolves into giggles as he carries her by me. I think my stomach just leaped into my chest and is now slowly making its way back into place.
“Sorry about that.” He holds her upside down as she swats at his stomach. “Adrian said it would be okay if I brought her with me.” He looks between Adrian and me, sensing some tension. “Emma’s coming to take her to daycare in a few,” Finlay confirms.
“Oh,” is all I can say while I try to wipe the surprise off my face. I never pictured Finlay with a daughter. He seems so young, but then again, I was twenty-six when I had Noelle. Shaking my head to clear the fog, I answer, “Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Ready for some flooring today, Lake?” Adrian’s question interrupts while Finlay wrangles his daughter out the door. The way he says my name, deep and low, stirs things inside of me.
I can’t speak when he’s staring at me that way. Crossing my arms across my chest, I ask him, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Adrian readjusts the bandana on his head and runs his hand over the hairs on his chin.
“Because you’re so fucking beautiful,” he says.
Not expecting that, I can’t help but be flustered. Staring down at my bare feet, I remember I had just rolled out of bed, threw on an old t-shirt and a pair of shorts without so much as running a brush through my hair. I have no makeup on, and I can’t remember if I brushed my teeth.
“I’m a mess,” I admit exasperatedly, trying to settle down the rogue curls in my hair.
He laughs, looking at me as if I said something funny and it irritates me.
“What is so fucking funny?” I hiss.
Adrian settles down, rubbing his chin while I narrow my eyes at him.
He dips his head so he can look me in the eye while he smiles. “Just the way I like it.”
The distance between us slowly retreats, and it’s impossible not to melt under that smile.
Distracting me, Moe loudly carries in large boxes of flooring and drops them in the center of the room, oblivious to the staring contest going on between Adrian and me.
“That better be the right flooring,” I say, pointing at the boxes, “Because I’m not living like this for another day.”
Adrian chuckles, his smile spreading across his face and into his eyes. He makes his way over to the boxes, noticing the torn plastic on the refrigerator and tilts his head in question at me.
“I wanted some fucking ice cream. Is that a crime?” I ask, placing my hands on my hips, challenging him to give me shit about it.
“Finlay,” he bellows, and Finlay pokes his head out of the garage door. “Grab some more plastic from the truck,” he orders.
Moments later, Finlay runs into the house, out of breath, his blonde hair flopping over his eyes as he carries in a tube of plastic. While he gets to work on re-covering the refrigerator, Moe continues to carry in boxes of flooring.
Adrian takes a box cutter from his tool belt and slices one open, holding the flap so I can see inside to the beautiful gray wood flooring. I run my hand over the wood planks. Looking around the empty space, I can finally picture it in my home. Maybe it doesn’t have memories of Noelle rolling skating over it, or the time she decided it would make a great canvas for her paints, but sometimes it’s good to have a fresh start.
