AllFreeNovel
Share Us
52
MAKING MEMORIES OF US BY KEITH URBAN
Jay
Armed with soup from my favorite bistro, ginger ale, crackers, and about sixteen different medicines, I picked Chloe up from school. When she got into the car, she peeked inside the bags at her feet and gave me a small smile, then turned to watch out the window. She was silent the entire way home, so I followed her lead, unsure of whether she really didn’t feel well or whether she was feeling as nervous as I was.
In the lobby of Cat’s building, I shake hands with Fred, the security guard on duty. “How’s Beth feeling?”
He gives me a big smile. “Due any day now, andcranky.”
I clap him on the back. “You’re a lucky man.”
“Don’t I know it.” We say our goodbyes, then I continue toward the elevator. Chloe’s eyes are on me the entire time.
“How are you feeling?” I ask once we’re inside.
“Who’s Beth?” she asks, tilting her head and squinting at me.
“Fred’s wife. But you didn’t answer my question. How are you feeling?”
She quietly regards me for a long time, and damn if her intense scrutiny doesn’t feel exactly like her mother’s. She’s so fucking smart. I have to work hard not to squirm under her inspection.
When the elevator stops on Cat’s floor, she still hasn’t answered, so I give in and step out into the hallway. When we make it inside, I set the bags on the table. “Soup okay?” I ask.
But Chloe is already retreating down the hall.
I sigh and slump against the counter.What did I say wrong?
* * *
I tapon Chloe’s door a little while later. “Soup’s ready.” I may not know much about raising a daughter, but I know better than to enter a bedroom without being invited. No idea what the heck she’s doing in there.
She opens the door and brushes past me. “Mom lets me have ice cream when I’m sick,” she grumbles.
I follow her to the kitchen, at a loss as to what I’m supposed to do. Silently, we settle at the table and eat.
“Feeling any better?” I try.
She glances up at me, then back to her bowl. “Cat’s on a date.”
I choke on my soup and cough obnoxiously. Watching my daughter, who’s looking at me with a suspicious amount of innocence, I take a slow sip of water. I swear she’s more Cat in this moment than she’s ever been.
I can do this. I’ve had dinner with a president. I’ve conned mobsters out of their life savings. I’ve killed people. Having a conversation with my twelve-year-old daughter should be a walk in the park.
“You don’t seem sick,” I comment, searching her face for a reaction.
She looks down into her soup again.
“Is there a reason you didn’t want to go to Sophie and Dexter’s? Did something happen with their kids?”
She narrows her eyes at me. “How come you know the name of our security guard’s wife?”
Suddenly sweltering, I pull on my shirt. “Because I wanted him to watch out for you.”
She raises her eyebrow. “Me? Or Cat?”
“You.Bothof you.”
