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I settle into the pink chair in the corner of her room and watch her go straight out like a light. My mind goes to Izzy just two doors down. She’s probably in bed now. Alone. Tomorrow, whether the timing is right or not, I’ll have to let her in on my past, and my very present daughter.
At some point, I must have fallen asleep because I wake sweating under the sunlight, realizing I forgot to draw the curtains. Cady is snoring, her mouth wide open like she’s catching flies. I check her bedside clock.
‘Shit.’
It’s after nine. Izzy is probably already at the gym. Regardless, I have to make double time to get to my first PT session at nine thirty. Deciding I’ll have Angie make up a breakfast shake, I have a quick shower and pull on my gym clothes. When I go to check on Cady, her bed is empty.
‘I’m in here.’
I follow her hoarse voice to the living room. Her hands tremble as she brings a cup of coffee to her lips.
‘Feeling good, kiddo?’
‘It feels like a man made of concrete sat on my head, then dragged razor blades along the lining of my stomach.’
‘Graphic. Nice. Listen, Cady, I’ve been a teenager but last night, you were underage drinking in a place you shouldn’t have been and you put yourself in real danger. Anyone could have put something in your drink or taken advantage of you.’
She looks down at the mug in her lap. ‘I know.’
‘My view is you’ve probably thrown up enough to learn your lesson but I’m willing to bet your mom won’t take the same approach.’
Her head darts up. ‘You’re not going to tell her, are you?’
Moving to her, I ruffle her hair and kiss her temple. ‘I don’t need to because you’re going to do that as soon as you’ve finished that coffee.’
I throw my sports bag over my shoulder and open the front door to leave. ‘Also, wash your hair, it smells of vomit.’
Scowling, she follows me to the door. ‘Thanks, Dad, for last night. I’m sorry I dragged you out to get me.’
‘I’m not happy about the situation but I’m glad you called me. Stay here as long as you like. There’s food in the fridge and money in the pot.’
‘I love you.’
‘Love you too, baby. Behave yourself!’
23
IZZY
Day 9
‘There’s food in the fridge and money in the pot… Love you too, baby.’
So, the woman I took a picture of in his arms last night stayed over and he’s in love with her.
Devious. Sly. Lying bloody bastard.
I quietly close my apartment door as Brooks heads down the corridor. I back up, as if the door might reveal a lethal weapon and come after me. And I stop when I back into the kitchen counter. Other than anger, I don’t know what I feel, but my eyes cloud with unfallen tears, and the pain that strikes my stomach is so fierce, it makes me fold forward.
I slide my back down and come to sit on the cold, tiled floor, wondering how I didn’t see this coming. Of course he has someone else. We never go to his apartment. He doesn’t talk about himself beyond the kind of movies and music he likes. He gave me a full lesson in the difference between American football and rugby but when I ask about his tattoos, he clams up.
He’s thirty-five and looks impossibly good. I mean, come on, Izzy.
I feel ridiculous. Like, once again, I’m on the outside of a circle, only it’s not skinny girls and ladies who lunch in the middle, it’s a guy I have possibly fallen in love with.
How can I be in love with him? I don’t even know him.
How could I have been so naïve as to think that a few days of sex and laughter are the basis of anything real?
