Cutie and the Beast, page 24
* * *
“Mabel isn’t going to get in trouble, right?” Ainsley’s innocent question brings me back to this moment. I’m kind of grateful because I don’t know what to think of the rest of it.
* * *
“I don’t know the answer to that. That’s Abel’s decision to make.” Not mine. Because I’m not Mabel’s parent, and no matter how crazy his lackadaisical parenting style makes me, Abel isn’t wrong to recognize there is more going on than just Mabel being a brat.
* * *
But I am.
* * *
Ainsley turns back to the movie. “Tell him she didn’t do it. It’s not fair for her to get in trouble for something I did.”
* * *
Like it’s not fair I made unfounded assumptions.
* * *
Looks like I have a lot more learning to do than I realized. I don’t think here, with my mother, is where it’s going to happen. It’s going to have to be at our house with the rest of our little ragtag family. I’m just not sure we’re welcome there any longer.
Chapter Thirty-One
ABEL
The sweeping lights through the living room indicate my ride is here. Balancing the human burrito in my arms, I reach down to grab everything else.
* * *
Mabel’s school bag—check
Mabel’s clothing bag—check
My workout bag—check
Our lunches—check
Haven’t dropped the child yet—check
* * *
I stabilize everything precariously as I step out the door, trying not to slam it too hard behind me with my foot. I fail, but what else is new? I’ve come to rely on Elliott so much, even the basics like leaving the house are difficult without her.
* * *
Or maybe I got spoiled with her here because she picked up so much of the slack I now have to do again. I fumble with my keys, partially from carrying so much stuff and partially from being distracted, wondering if she misses me as much as I miss her. Does she still need me to pick up Ainsley from school? Who will give my tiny dancer a snack and let her burn off some steam when she gets home?
* * *
Maybe that’s a bad idea anyway. Burning off steam is what got us in this mess in the first place.
* * *
Climbing into the back seat of my favorite Ford Escort, like I do every morning, I settle us in and take the coffee from Marv, who is side-eyeing me in the mirror. I brace myself for the third degree.
* * *
“You have a fight with the new woman?”
* * *
I swallow my mouthful of lukewarm coffee, grateful he’s not one to dig into things too deeply. “Sort of.”
* * *
Marv eases us down the road like every morning. Except this morning he’s more inquisitive. “Your fault?”
* * *
“Partially.”
* * *
He nods once, probably in solidarity from years of been there, done that. “You gonna make it right?”
* * *
“Doing my best to.”
* * *
Another nod and he pulls up to the front of the gym. “Ladies don’t want flowers anymore. That’s too old school. Actions are more their speed. Listen between the lines when she talks and do something that’s important to her. That’ll win her back.”
* * *
I hand him the now empty coffee cup back, trying but failing to smile. “Thanks, Marv. I’m working on it.”
* * *
He nods once more and waits patiently until I can get Mabel and all our junk out of his car, slamming the door with my foot behind me. That’s two for two on accidental slams. I’m definitely out of practice.
* * *
I see it the second Gina realizes I need help opening the door and watch as her brain comes to its own rapid conclusions as to why. She does this weird double take where her eyes get wide—well, as wide as they can get before her coffee—and she hoofs it over to help me. I don’t say anything beyond “Thanks” as she holds the door open for us. Not even a morning greeting. I’m too busy dodging her gaping stare.
* * *
It’s not just Gina. Everyone I normally greet when I first get here is openly staring at me as I carry Mabel by. It feels reminiscent of a year ago when I started having to bring my daughter with me to work. The rumor mill started swirling immediately about May leaving and how sweet it was that I was now taking care of my daughter alone. Being the center of negative attention sucked. No one wants people constantly staring at them and making assumptions about how they feel during a crisis. Nosy assholes.
* * *
Besides, I never knew what the big deal was about me bringing her, other than the inconvenience. I’m a parent, not a babysitter. It’s what a father does. Or, at least, what he should do. Not like Derrick who only takes Ainsley on weekends, and if it’s too inconvenient for him, ditches her at her Grammy’s house.
* * *
Which reminds me that the eyes on me all throughout the gym are connected to the same rumor mill that is probably already spreading around that poor Abel is single again.
* * *
I don’t know if it’s being the subject of all the rumors or the possibility that said rumors are true that bothers me more this morning. I still refuse to believe it’s over between me and Elliott. It’s been thirty-six hours. In the overall scheme of things, that’s almost no time at all.
* * *
As soon as Morgan sees me coming, she does the exact same double take Gina did and then hops to it. I’d laugh at the ridiculousness of it if I wasn’t so pissed I’m in this position in the first place.
* * *
Fine. I’m sad. Not angry. Sad.
* * *
“I didn’t expect to have to do this again,” Morgan remarks as she spreads out the yoga mat on the floor under the desk. “Everything okay with Elliott?”
* * *
I know what she’s really asking, even though she’s too polite to be direct.
* * *
“Fine. She stayed at her mom’s last night.”
* * *
“Oh. You need to talk about it?”
* * *
“Nothing to talk about.” I lay Mabel down carefully and begin adjusting her blankets. Suddenly, my little burrito’s eyes are open and she’s looking around, confused.
* * *
Quickly, her brain catches up. “Why am I at the gym, Daddy?”
* * *
“Elliott’s not at the house, baby. I couldn’t leave you alone.”
* * *
Mabel blinks a few times and her eyes begin to well up with tears. “They’re not home yet? They didn’t come home?”
* * *
My heart breaks all over. Those are almost the identical words she said when May left. I can’t imagine what kind of feelings this situation is triggering for Mabel, and the only person I can blame is myself. I’m the one who thought living with a single mom was a great idea. I’m the one who kept pushing Elliott to date me. I’m the one who crossed those roommate boundaries and slid so easily into tag-team parenting. And I’m the one who kept brushing off what Elliott was warning me about until the worst-case scenario happened.
* * *
Sitting down on the floor, I look up at Morgan. “Can you give us a minute?”
* * *
As my co-worker walks away, I pull Mabel to me. She curls up in my lap, sniffling. I hate this for her. I hate that one fight caused Elliott to run away. I get it, but I hate it.
* * *
“They stayed at Ainsley’s Gigi’s house last night.” I’m hoping to soften the blow, but I don’t think Mabel is falling for it.
* * *
“But they’ll be home tonight, right? And Ainsley is all better? Her tooth got put back in?” Mabel’s little voice quivers.
* * *
“Oh yeah. Her tooth is back in, and she has to drink a lot of smoothies right now. But she’s going to be fine.”
* * *
“They’re coming home, right?”
* * *
This is the one I don’t know how to answer. I’m almost a little surprised Mabel is as upset about it as she is. In a weird way, I’m glad. It means Mabel cares, which means we have a better shot of making this work. We just have one giant hurdle to get over first.
* * *
“Ainsley’s daddy is really upset she got hurt. Like if it was you that got hurt and I wasn’t there to see it, I’d probably be upset too.” I don’t take on that he’s an asshole who is probably using this incident as an excuse to cause Elliott anxiety. She’ll learn soon enough what the term “dickhead” really means. “They need a little time to sort it out and make sure he’s not so upset, okay?”
* * *
I feel her nod against my chest, burrowing her little body as close as she can get to me—the one person who hasn’t left her yet, no matter the circumstance. I worry she’s afraid I’m next.
* * *
“I’m not leaving you, Mabel. You understand me?” She doesn’t respond. “It’s you and me, kid. No matter what happens. No matter who does or doesn’t live with us, I’ll never leave you. You’re the most important thing in my whole life. More important than my job or the house or anything. Don’t ever doubt that, okay?”
* * *
She nods again, and then I feel the wetness of her tears soak through my shirt. “I miss them, Daddy.”
* * *
Sighing, I lean my cheek on top of her head. “I know, baby. I miss them too.” Pulling back, I encourage her to shift over and look at me. “I have to say, though, I’m kind of surprised you miss them so much. You’re not very nice to Elliott.”
* * *
Mabel looks down at her hands and watches as they fumble with the zipper of my jacket. “She makes me mad sometimes. She doesn’t do things the way you do.”
* * *
“Of course, she doesn’t, baby. She’s not me. She has her own way of making breakfast and her own way of waking you up. Every adult has a different routine in the morning. That doesn’t mean it’s the wrong way.”
* * *
Mabel is silent for a few moments, and I let her think about what her next words are going to be. Finally, quietly, she begins to get to the root of the issue. “Sometimes I really miss Mommy. Especially in the morning. Elliott isn’t my mom, and she gives Ainsley hugs and kisses in the morning and my mom doesn’t do that for me.”
* * *
I look up at the ceiling and blink back my own tears, cursing May and her selfish behavior under my breath. When I’m confident I’ve bitten back all the horrible things I want to spout off about my ex, I ask, “Do you want Elliott to give you hugs and kisses in the morning too? I know she’s not your mom, but I bet she would if you wanted.”
* * *
Slowly, very slowly, Mabel begins to nod, until she’s vigorously moving her head up and down. “Yeah. I want her to hug me too. And I know I already have a mom, but Elliott knows how to vacuum and do the dishes and make really good eggs.”
* * *
I smile at her candor and also in relief that we’re finally getting somewhere. “She does. And she’s really nice, right?”
* * *
“She’s the nicest lady I’ve ever known.” Those wide brown eyes slay me with this admission. It seems Elliott leaving was an unexpected natural consequence for Mabel. Fingers crossed, we may be over the hump on some of her bad behavior because of it.
* * *
I kiss Mabel’s little fingers. “I think maybe you need to tell her that. Tell her you want hugs too. Tell her she’s nice and you like her. And stop being such a grumpy bear in the morning. You think you can do that?”
* * *
Another vigorous nod from her.
* * *
“We have to do better if they’re going to come home. Both of us. Think we can do it?” I look down, locking eyes with her.
* * *
“Yeah. And I think I need to tell Ainsley sorry for kicking her in the face.”
* * *
A laugh rumbles out of me. It feels good to know there’s still hope for our little unit to get back together and make this work. “That is the first thing you need to say. But we’ll do that when we see them. Right now, you probably need to go back to sleep for a little bit, so you don’t fall asleep at school.”
* * *
Wiping her nose with the back of her hand, she shakes her head. “I’m not tired. Can I play in the gym instead?”
* * *
“Sure. As long as you hang next to me the whole time but don’t interrupt with my client, that’ll be fine. What do you want to do?”
* * *
With the most serious face I think I’ve ever seen, Mabel adamantly says, “Not. Kickboxing.”
* * *
“I agree. Why don’t you take your clothes into the locker room and get dressed quickly while I set up for the day, and we’ll find something for you to do when you get back.”
* * *
She nods and grabs her bag, turning to walk away. Before she gets out of arm’s reach, she turns back and jumps into my arms.
* * *
“I love you, Daddy.” My girl clings tightly to my neck, not just a gesture of love, but an obvious gesture of gratitude for talking her through the feelings that have been plaguing her for months now.
* * *
“I love you too. We’re gonna fix this. Don’t worry.”
* * *
One last squeeze and she trots off to get ready for the day. I feel much better now that Mabel is working through her issues and recognizing how ugly she’s been. It gives me hope that things are going to be fine.
* * *
Now, I need to get Elliott on the same page. Grabbing my phone, I shoot her a quick text, knowing it’ll be the first thing she gets this morning.
* * *
“We love you. We miss you. And we really need to talk.”
* * *
She never responds.
Chapter Thirty-Two
ELLIOTT
Today has been the worst day. I should have known it was going to snowball into this madness when I woke up late this morning. I left my charger at Abel’s, so my phone was dead. Then, as we were already scrambling to get to school on time, I realized we also didn’t have very many clothes left here.
Thank goodness there was one box of leftovers I had planned to take to Goodwill still in the closet. They aren’t the finest duds we’ve ever worn, but at least they’re clean and they fit. Or at least sort of fit. Ainsley’s a little kid. I can always blame her for having terrible fashion sense and me choosing my battles. That sounds so much better than admitting we raced out of my boyfriend’s house while she bled from a traumatic injury and we haven’t been back.
Yeah. We’re sticking with the fashion sense argument.
By the time we got to school, we were barely on time. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy as dropping her and running. Because of her nearly liquid diet, I had to talk to the school nurse, the principal, her teacher, and the school counselor explaining the situation when someone became “concerned” by Ainsley’s injury. Once that was cleared up, I was able to write out my request to for her to drink smoothies for lunch, only because it’s a temporary situation. Poor nutrition is apparently a sticking point at this school, which you’d never know by the sorry state of the vegetables in the lunchroom. I didn’t bring that up though. I didn’t have any more time to waste, not after having to wait for the one secretary in the building who is a public notary to get off her break to finalize the documentation they needed.
I understand the school policy when there are special dietary needs, but geez people. I’m just bringing her liquid food so her tooth doesn’t fall back out. And who takes a break at the beginning of the school day?
For a split second, I actually wondered if we could forget all the red-tape nonsense, eat real food, and hope for the best. Maybe it was a little longer than a second. Maybe it was a solid two minutes while I listened to the school counselor jabber on about the importance of safety and supervision while children play.
