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“Counterpoint, I am changing the topic, so you don’t keep thinking I’m fighting you on this.”
She giggles. “Sore loser.”
“I might be a loser, but at least I have a date.”
She kicks my shin this time, and I laugh with her. As she goes on about her dating woes, I can’t help but worry about my own and how complicated things will be when my parents find out I’m sleeping with the enemy. Who is also my boss.
27
Lily
Standing in Cormac’s kitchen, it feels odd to think of it ashiskitchen. Not mine. But since I do most of the cooking in there, he doesn’t care that I rearranged it for efficiency. Or that brought in some flowers for the previously barren countertop. Not that I like a lot of things on counters—they are my workspaces, after all.
But his home is so sterile that it needs some cheering up. I have no idea how an angular, minimalist home affects a child’s mental health, but Aiden eagerly helped me pick out the first flowers and Franny selected the vase, so I think they’re over it, too. Every couple of days I take them to the florist, and we chat about what flowers look nice together and bring them home. Cormac’s only comment on it was, “Those are nice.”
Maybe he doesn’t realize he can decorate? Or maybe he doesn’t care either way? I’m not sure. But he likes the flowers, and it’s a start. Not that I think I should have a say in how his home is decorated…but it’d be nice if I did.
I smirk to myself and stuff containers of raw veggie strips and cheese cubes into the kids’ backpacks. After a couple of long, uncomfortable conversations, we decided to have dinner with my parents so they could get to know Cormac and the kids. So, packing them some things I know they’ll eat is the best course of action, when my Dad will do preparing dinner. He’s a skilled cook, but after decades of cooking for mostly couples, he’s not so good at kid food. I’m trying to keep everyone on his good side at the moment, too, and hungry children will not help the situation.
Dad hadn’t exactly reacted well to the news of what had transpired between us, and Cormac decided the best way to handle the situation was upfront. Mom, being the reasonable, mature adult she is, suggested I keep them as far from each other as possible, but I agree with Cormac. I don’t want to keep my love life from my family.
Especially when this is going as well as it is.
I wedge some extra red bell peppers in for Franny—her new favorite veggie of the week. Getting lost in the food helps me to calm down, so I focus on that instead of the potential crisis of dinner with my parents. But then another distraction pops up. My phone rings.Who the hell calls people out of the blue these days? Psychopaths?
No. Not psychopaths. Paxton.Oh hell. Should I even take it?I huff, knowing I will.He probably needs bail again.Flatly, I ask, “Hey, what’s up?”
He blurts “Lily, I know you hate me but please don’t hang up!” as one word, no breaths.
I chuckle. “I’m not hanging up on you, Paxton. The caller ID said it was you. I picked up on purpose.”
“So, I have big news. You remember Carl Raines from Chandelier Group?”
Wow, that’s a blast from the past. “Uh, that big conglomerate that was buying up a bunch of restaurants on the Lower East Side?”
“Yes, that’s the one.”
Shit, he’s on a bender again, isn’t he? He sounds like he’s been up for three days, coked out again. This conversation is a waste of time.“What about it, Pax?”
“Carl quit them—
“Why should I care about some random guy from a thousand years ago? What’s this call really about? Are you using again? Should I call your sponsor?”
He laughs. “Actually, no. I’ve been sober for a few months. Like, straight through this time, Lily. I’m doing good.”
Previously, when he lied about using, he claimed a couple of days sober. Or even a week. But months? I’m not buying it. “It’s okay, man. I’m not judging you. Are you somewhere safe?”
He laughs again, and I realize it’s not tinged with that hint of madness his laughter used to sound like. “I’m in my very own apartment, sober as a judge. Well, none of the judges I used to party with, anyway. I’ve been hitting my meetings every day. I even got a new job—that’s how I know about all this.”
“Why do you sound so hyper, then?”
“Because I’m excited, okay? Hear me out, and then you can hang up on me.”
I huff. “I’m not hanging up on you. If anything, I’m texting your sponsor—
“Go ahead. She’ll tell you how proud of me she is.”
That’s a weird lie. Okay, maybe it’s not a lie. “Alright, what’s all this about?”
