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Besides, I can already see the car.
I’m almost next to it when my phone rings. I take it out of my pocket and frown as I see the name of my mother-in-law on the screen.
How can I even have a mother-in-law when I no longer have a wife?
I’d like to ignore her, but by now, I know that’s not a wise thing to do. Best to get this over with.
“Betty.” I force a smile as I hold the phone against my ear. “It’s nice of you to call, but now’s not a good time. I have to – ”
“How’s Maisie?”
Of course she’s not listening. She never does.
“Good,” I answer. “I’m taking her to tumbling class now.”
“Tumbling class?” I hear the disapproval in her voice.
“Yes, you know, where they run around and jump and climb things for an hour. I told you this before.”
“What? You couldn’t find something more educational?”
I sigh. Of course she’d turn this conversation into another argument. Frankly, I’m getting tired of it.
“Daddy?” Maisie lifts her little eyebrows.
I set her down but hold her hand. “Just a moment, sweetheart.”
“Jackson?” Betty’s impatient voice prods me from the other end of the line.
“We have to go, Betty.”
“To a class where Maisie won’t learn anything and might break her bones?”
I should have known she wouldn’t let me off the hook so easily.
“It’s good for her,” I say. “She’s learning to get along with other kids. She gets exercise. And there are a lot of people watching her.”
“How many?”
I suppress another sigh. “Enough.”
“But why tumbling class? Why not piano lessons? Or violin? Or golf? Or chess?”
“She’s not interested in any of those.”
“How would you know if she hasn’t tried them?”
“She’s four, Betty,” I point out. “If she was ready for education, she’d be in kindergarten.”
“Well, have you tried getting her into one?”
“They’ll take her next year,” I say. “Most children go when they’re five, not four.”
“But isn’t she almost five? Surely you can talk to the school. Or find one that will. After all, my granddaughter’s a genius.”
I glance at Maisie. Granted, she’s smart. Sometimes, when I’m talking to her, I feel like I’m talking to a ten-year-old. But genius?
“She’ll go next year,” I insist. “I’ve read that sending children to school too young backfires later on.”
Reading Smart Parenting is helpful after all. Take that, Betty.
She snorts. “Says who?”
“Experts.”
Another snort. “You’re just too busy to do what’s best for her. If you don’t have the time, I can – ”
“Betty, I’ve got this,” I cut her off. “We’re fine.”
I can put up with her condescending tone and her excessive “expert advice” because I know she cares about Maisie, but I won’t have her say I’m not taking care of my own daughter.
“You say that, but are you really? It seems like…”
I stop listening as Maisie lets go of my hand and bolts.
“Maisie!”
She runs after the yellow butterfly fluttering in front of her, chasing it to the corner of the sidewalk.
“Jackson?”
I ignore Betty’s voice and run after my daughter. “Maisie!”
To my relief, she stops at the corner – but then suddenly she screams and falls to the pavement.
“Maisie!”
As soon as I’m by her side, I see what scared her – a teenage boy on a bike, its front wheel just a foot away. The boy seems terrified as well.
“Shit,” he mutters as he takes off his headphones.
“Watch it,” I scold him as I pull a shaking Maisie into my arms. “And watch where you’re going. This is the sidewalk. People are walking.”
He puts his headphones back on and rides off.
“Hey!” I call after him, but he keeps pedaling.
Why, that son of a…
“Daddy,” Maisie whimpers as she buries her head against my chest.
I decide to let the boy go and tend to my little girl.
“Are you alright?” I stroke her cheek.
She nods.
“Jackson! Jackson!” I hear Betty screaming from my phone.
I guess she’s still there.
“I’ll call you later,” I tell her before hanging up.
Right now, Maisie needs me.
“Are you alright?” I ask her again as I look into her eyes.
Like before, she nods.
I place my hand against her cheek. “Don’t ever let go of my hand again, okay?”
Instead of answering, she wraps her arms around me as she rests her head on my shoulder.
“Shh.” I stroke her hair. “You’re alright now. Everything’s alright. Daddy’s here. And I promise that I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
I’m not the best father, I know, but I can swear that much. And I mean it. Whatever it takes, I’m not going to let anything bad happen to my daughter.
Chapter 3
Cathy
This is bad.
I slam the car door closed before running towards the restaurant – only to rush back and open it again because I’ve forgotten my phone on the dashboard.
I start running again as I slip it inside my purse. The heels of my shoes clack against the pavement.
