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Nice.
twenty-two
FIVE O’CLOCK APPROACHESquickly. I get the kids from school, rush through their homework, and then hop in the shower to get ready for my date with Will. I suppose this is my first date with him. We’ve shared meals and drinks, but we’ve yet to go to a restaurant together. When I told the girls it’s not the easiest to arrange time together, I meant it. Which is why tonight’s impromptu evening is exciting.
I slip on a long-sleeved jersey dress and pair it with stockings and knee-high boots. We could be going to a diner for all I know, but I want to put on something pretty. Not just for Will. For me.
I’m fluffing out my hair when the doorbell rings.
“Izzy, answer the door for your father,” I call down so I can take an extra second to put on some mascara and lip gloss.
As I descend the stairs, Tyler is standing in the foyer with the kids. His eyes flicker up to me as I come downstairs, doing a double take, like one would with a girl coming down in her prom dress for the first time. I feel like a song by The La’s should be playing in the background.
“Is your dad home?” he asks as I step onto the tiles.
I raise a brow at him while fixing the clasp on my bracelet that didn’t seem to catch when I did it upstairs. “No. He’s out with Anna.”
Izzy grabs her coat from the catch-all ottoman near the front door. “Wow, Mom. You said Anna’s name without making a face. Good progress. Maybe I should start seeingyourshrink.”
“I’m not seeing a shrink, and neither are you. Yourtherapistis very nice. You’re going to love her.”
I have a tough time getting the damn clasp to hook, so I take the bracelet off, replace it on my wrist, and try again.
“Here, let me.” Tyler closes the space between us and grabs the bracelet without my asking.
“Thanks.” I stare at him with a raised brow, watching as he carefully locks my bracelet in place. “Why did you ask about my dad?”
“The front door. You never let the kids answer it. I was surprised.”
“I was just finishing up with something upstairs. You guys ready to go?” I ask them because Izzy’s appointment is in fifteen minutes.
“Do we have to go?” Hunter asks as he comes into the foyer with a cape around his neck and a top hat on. It’s surprising since he’s usually so excited, practically leaping out the door to go with his dad. “My stummy hurts.”
Hunter calls his belly his stummy when it hurts. It’s an adorable mix of tummy and stomachache.
I drop to a knee and place a hand on the back of his neck. “Let me take a look at you. You were okay a few minutes ago.”
“I think it was the bag of popcorn I ate.”
“When did you eat popcorn? You knew Daddy was coming to take you to dinner.” I stand and place my hands on my hips.
Izzy chimes in from her place near the front door, “He was hungry, so I made him a bag. You were in the shower.”
Tyler’s mouth twists. “Were you too distracted that our kids were cooking for themselves and stuffing themselves sick?”
I mentally flip him the bird. “A microwave is not dangerous. Izzy even knows how to use a stove.”
While Tyler looks at Izzy to confirm she can indeed boil a pot of water and make popcorn and various other things eleven-year-olds are learning how to do, I place a hand on Hunter’s cheek and listen to him groan.
“I think I’m going to throw up,” he mutters into my hand, and my eyes close.
I don’t want to kick mysick to his stomachkid out of my house so I can go to dinner with the man I’m dating, but … I really want to kick my kid out of the house. I’m a monster.
“Do you want to stay home with me?” I ask my boy, and he nods while looking so down.
“Yes, but I really wanted to go out with Daddy tonight.”
I put my arm around his shoulders. “No, baby, I think you need to rest just in case it’s not the popcorn. I’ll put on some jammies, and we’ll snuggle on the couch.”
