When It's Right Page 8

  I’m at the coffee shop where our date never happened. Made me think of you. I just wanted to say, hope you are doing well.

  I smile but it’s bittersweet. His timing would be perfect if he was my boyfriend because, shit, I could use someone to lean on. I bite my lip and text him back.

  Today is a rough one. Nice to have a friendly message. Hope you’re well too.

  I glance up and see my mom walking toward the car, so I close my dad’s door and move to hop into the back seat.

  “Can you drive home, honey?” she asks as she walks around the back of the car to hand me the keys.

  “No problem.” It’s the easiest request I’ve gotten today by far.

  My phone buzzes again as I’m about to slip into the driver’s seat. I pause to read the message from Griffin.

  If you need to talk, you can call me. I might not be dating material, but I can be friend material.

  Oh, if only that were true. I sigh. I want to lie to both of us and say sure, we can hang out as friends, but I would only be giving myself false hope. I feel like trying to deny our attraction or push it aside would become torture really fast. And I’m going through enough right now. I don’t need to add self-inflicted wounds. That was why I didn’t want to date anyone to begin with.

  My mom looks at me impatiently. “Sorry. Just a second.”

  She gets into the back seat, and I respond to Griffin’s text.

  People who kiss like you do are dangerous friends. But I do appreciate the offer. Take care.

  I toss my phone into the center console and get behind the wheel. As I pull out of the parking lot and start our journey home, my parents chatter about inconsequential things. I keep stealing glances at my mom in the rearview mirror. Now that my dad has tipped me off, I see the signs. She’s got a crumpled tissue tucked into the sleeve of her sweater. Her eyes look a little too glassy. Her nose is the slightest bit red. I would have blamed it on the chilly weather, but now I know better. And I have to help my dad help her and everyone else through this latest obstacle. I have to focus on that, which is why it’s a blessing in disguise that my timing with Griffin is off. I can’t give my heart to someone when it’s already about to be broken by something else.

  9

  Griffin

  I see my brother approaching the dock from where I’m sitting on my upstairs balcony, stewing in my thoughts and nursing a neat whiskey.

  He’s in his typical attire when he doesn’t have to be in court—ratty jeans with holes in both knees, a T-shirt, and flip-flops. He’s been out of school for almost four years, but you’d think Hunter was a permanent student if you judged him on his fashion sense, or lack thereof.

  “Hey!” he calls, pulling his aviators up to rest on top of his head. “Thought I’d swing by and see my favorite girl.”

  “She’s not here,” I call back, and his expression gets hard fast. “She’s at her friend Jennica’s at a play date. I’m picking her up in a couple hours.”

  Hunter looks instantly relieved. “Oh, okay. I thought that maybe Lauren was screwing with the custody before the hearing.”

  “Nah. I haven’t heard a thing from her,” I say as I watch him step onto the boat. “She didn’t even hand Charlie off to me when I picked her up. She had that asswipe she’s dating meet me at the door, and he had a written note with instructions.”

  Hunter halts on the deck below, shielding his eyes as he looks up at me, his face twisted with fury. “Are you kidding me? What did the note say?”

  “It was a list of things I needed to remember,” I explain. “Bedtime, when to feed her, and what food she likes and doesn’t. It’s like I was some new nanny or deadbeat dad who hadn’t spent any time with their kid. I haven’t gone more than three days without seeing my daughter since the divorce.”

  Hunter shakes his head but says nothing as he uses his key to open the main door to the houseboat. A few seconds later he’s walking through my bedroom to the deck I’m on. “The note was handwritten or typed?”

  “Typed. Why?”

  “She’s creating documentation, that smart bi—”

  I glare at Hunter before he can finish his expletive. He knows I don’t tolerate calling Lauren names. Out loud. She still gave me Charlie, and I worry if we get used to calling her names when Charlie’s not around, we might slip and do it when she is. I don’t want her to hear her mother called a bitch…even if she is one. Hunter stops mid-word. “She’s doing this so that when she lies and says you take bad care of Charlie, she will have ‘proof.’”

  He makes air quotes as he says “proof,” and my jaw drops along with my stomach. “A written list she claims you need in order to take care of your child, because you are too inept or distracted to remember Charlie’s schedule. It’s fake and I’ll argue that, but it’s her word against ours, and the list, typed up, seems hard to disprove.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Nope. But the good news is most family court judges know all the tricks,” Hunter explains as he walks over to the bar on the deck and grabs the whiskey bottle off the top. I hand him my glass.

  “Take mine. I’m not thirsty anymore,” I tell him and Hunter grabs my tumbler and takes a sip before dropping down in the chair I was in before he arrived. I sigh and sit in the other one and try to relax, but I can’t.

  “Please don’t worry,” Hunter says, tilting his head up toward the dipping sun.

  “You’ve said that a million times.”

  “And I’ll say it a million more…until you stop stressing,” my brother replies. “Lauren is not taking Charlie away. Not even for a second. In fact, by the time this is done, I’m hoping to get you more time.”

  “I don’t want to take Lauren’s time from Charlie either,” I reply, and I mean it. Lauren isn’t a bad mother. Charlie needs her and loves her. “But this bullshit has got to stop. I don’t know why, after years of things being fine, she suddenly wants a change and is implying I’m unfit.”

  “I bet it’s the boyfriend,” Hunter suggests and sips the whiskey again. “He’s the only thing that’s changed since the divorce.”

  “That makes no sense. We’ve been divorced for two years. I’m sure she’s been involved with other people,” I argue back.

  “You haven’t,” he remarks.

  “Touché,” I reply. “But it’s not like this Cale guy is demanding my kid be around even more. Hell, he barely bothered to learn Charlie’s name, and I’m guessing if anything he would rather she spent more time with me so Lauren would be free to follow him around all the shitty gigs he does. She can’t spend all her nights in a dive bar when she’s got a child at home.”

  Hunter sighs. “Let’s talk about something better. What’s happening with the hot nurse? Have you gotten to the sponge bath portion of the relationship?”

  I laugh because he is ridiculous, but the fact is the whole situation is far from funny. It’s a damn tragedy, and Hunter’s going to kick my ass when I tell him. “I haven’t rescheduled our date. And I’m not going to anytime soon.”

  “Okay, now I’m going to call her,” Hunter replies, leaning toward me. “Maybe she can recommend a doctor, because clearly there’s something wrong with you.”

  “Hunter, my life isn’t set up to include a girlfriend right now,” I remind him. “I work a lot, and the times I am home I have Charlie most days. Plus it’s baggage enough to have an ex-wife and kid, but to also be dealing with custody issues…Sadie doesn’t need that.”

  “Sadie,” Hunter repeats her name, smiling as he pushes his sunglasses back up on his head again. “We have a name. How about a last name?”

  “You don’t need to know that.”

  His light eyes glint with mischief. “Okay, Sadie the Naughty Nurse it is.”

  “Don’t be a cheap asshole, Hunter.”

  “You wouldn’t care what I called her if you weren’t still hoping to see her again,” he replies, pausing to finish the whiskey in his glass.

  “What I want and what’s
going to happen are two different things.” I rub a hand over my chin as I think about how she turned down my offer of friendship. “Her dad is really sick, and she works twelve-hour shifts. She has a lot on her plate too. It’s not just me that thinks this isn’t the right time.”

  “Fuck. That’s hard.”

  “Exactly,” I say, feeling like he’s finally getting it and siding with me. I pause and steady myself for his reaction because I know he’s not going to like my last confession. He swirls the whiskey left in his glass for a moment before downing the rest of it.

  “You know what I think?” he says, standing up and putting his empty glass on the table beside me. He waits a second for me to respond, but I don’t because he’s going to tell me what he thinks, whether I want him to or not. “I think you’re looking for excuses. I think you’re too much of a pussy to go after…well, pussy.”

  I cringe. “Hey, frat boy, rein it in. You kiss your wife with that mouth?”

  His grin is almost blinding. “I do a hell of a lot more than just kiss her with it.”

  I do not need the visuals he’s putting in my head. I shake them out. “If you think this doesn’t suck for me, trust me, you’re wrong. She’s the first woman I’ve been interested in since Lauren. Hell, I’m more than interested. But seriously, Hunter, I couldn’t even handle an attempt at a first date without it blowing up.”

  He seems to seriously consider my words. I had already explained to him how I fucked up with the cell phone and didn’t call her to cancel the date until she was already there. Even he winced at that when I told him. He sighs. “Okay, man. I get it. I’ll stop bugging you for now. But as soon as we settle the Lauren drama once and for all, you’re seeing this Sadie girl again…even if the only way I can get you to do it is break your nose and send you to her hospital.”

  I laugh at that. “You should have been a comedian. The career goes better with your wardrobe too.”

  “Zing!” Hunter calls as he walks back into the houseboat. “I’m heading home to my amazing woman. You should get one. You’d like it.”

  I don’t respond. I just laugh. My kid brother is a jackass, but he’s my jackass. He appears on the first level a few minutes later, and as he heads down the dock he calls out. “Tell Charlie I said hi!”

  After watching his car disappear, I head back inside and start to prep dinner. I promised Charlie we could make mini pizzas. It’s her favorite thing, and I don’t mind it because I make a cauliflower crust and she loves to pile veggies on it. She’s the only six-year-old I’ve ever met willing to eat brussels sprouts. I turn on the big screen in the living room to watch the Thunder game and angle it toward the kitchen, then I pull out the ingredients to start the crust. The Thunder are in Seattle playing the Winterhawks, and it’s just starting.

  I’m so glad goalie coaches aren’t required to go on most of the road trips. The travel was my least favorite part of playing, especially after Charlie was born. My cell phone buzzes as I’m chopping veggies. It’s Jennica’s mom. “Hi, Anne. Is it time to…”

  Anne starts talking fast, and as I absorb what she’s saying, my blood runs cold. “I’ll be there in a minute. Don’t panic. Don’t let Charlie panic.”

  I hang up, grab my keys, and rush out of the boat.

  10

  Griffin

  I’m trying not to freak out, but it’s not easy. When Anne told me that Charlie had stuffed raisins up her nose and there was one stuck, I was horrified and honestly a little pissed. She’s a smart kid, and this was stupid. I’m fairly certain a raisin up her nostril won’t kill her, but I can’t help considering all the worst-case scenarios. Maybe she could aspirate it into her lungs or something? Was that even possible? I get to Anne’s place in record time, and she opens the door, looking even more distraught than me.

  “I am so sorry. Jennica’s brother dared them to do it,” she confesses. “Trust me, he’s in trouble. Big trouble!”

  Charlie is standing in the hall behind her, big hazel eyes wide and scared. I’m not sure if it’s the thing trapped in her nostril that has her freaked out or if she’s scared of the trouble she might be in. I give Anne a small, reassuring smile and motion for Charlie to join me. “Kids are kids. Thanks for calling me. I’ll take her home and fix her right up.”

  “I think you’re going to need professional help,” Anne recommended. “I tried to snag it with tweezers but I couldn’t.”

  Fuck.

  I smile again. “Okay. It’s not a big deal. Don’t beat yourself up.” I look down at Charlie and her little lip trembles. “Thank Mrs. Kesler for having you over.”

  “Thank you. And I’m sorry,” Charlie says in a shaking voice.

  Anne bends and pats her head. “It’s okay, Charlie. I hope you get it out.”

  We head down the front path to the car. As soon as I have her buckled into her booster seat in the back, she bursts into tears. Now I’m worried the snot will loosen the thing and send it shooting down her throat, choking her. I hug her. “It’s okay, sweetie.”

  “Is it going to be in there forever?” she asks, panicked. “Is it going to get all gross and stinky? Is it going to make my nose rot?”

  “No, honey.” I try not to laugh at her questions. “Does it hurt?”

  She shakes her head no. I kiss her forehead. “I’m going to take you to a doctor, and they’re going to remove it. It’s going to be fine.”

  “Will it hurt then?” she asks, voice still shaky.

  “I hope not,” I say, which is the only honest answer I can give. I close the back and as I walk around the car, I quickly text Sadie.

  Are you at work? I’m heading to the hospital now.

  My kid has a raisin stuck in her nose.

  I don’t get an immediate response, so I hop in the car, but before I can pull out of Anne’s driveway, she texts back.

  I’m here, so I’ll see you soon. Try not to panic.

  It’s more common than you think and an easy fix. Promise.

  I put down the phone and let out a sigh of relief.

  “Don’t worry, Charlie. I just texted my friend who works at the hospital and she said she will get it out, easy-peasy.”

  My daughter gives me a wobbly smile. She’s still scared as hell. Poor kid.

  I try not to speed as I head toward the hospital. Charlie, thankfully, has stopped crying, but she’s sniffing now. I dig around my console and pull out a small pack of tissue. “Try blowing, sweetie. I don’t want you to sniff too hard.”

  I hand it back to her and I hear her blow. “It didn’t come out,” she reports.

  “No worries, kiddo. We’ll get it out.”

  “Will your hopsital friend laugh at me?” she asks nervously, and I bite my lip to keep from laughing at the way she said “hospital.” She’s started to develop self-consciousness lately, and it makes me sad. I don’t remember having those worries at her age and I wonder if it’s a gender thing. I hate it. It’s not fair. I want her to be carefree and confident forever, even though I know that’s completely unrealistic.

  “No, Charlie, nurses and doctors will have seen this type of thing before. A lot,” I reply soothingly. “I promise you’re not a weirdo.”

  I glance in the rearview mirror and watch her stare despondently at the tissue in her tiny hands. “Cale laughs at me sometimes.”

  My blood turns to ice in my veins. Stay calm. Stay calm… “What do you mean, Charlie?”

  My voice is soft and calm, but I’m griping the steering wheel so hard I could probably rip it out of the car right now. We stop at a red light. She shrugs her delicate shoulders. “I spilled my drink last week and he laughed really loud and people looked at me.”

  “Where was Mommy?” I’m going to fucking kill this dude.

  “She was there. She told him to stop and helped me clean it up and the lady brought me a new drink,” she explains. “But I cried and that made him mad.”

  “Well, he was wrong,” I say firmly but still calmly, because I’m scared if I show
her how enraged I am it’ll scare her or, worse yet, make her hold on to this shitty moment even more. “He wasn’t nice. You had an accident. It happens. No one should be made fun of for accidents.”

  “That’s what Mommy said later,” she says, her voice getting a little stronger and a timid smile on her lips.

  Later? Lauren should have said it immediately. And then thrown Charlie’s new drink at him.

  The hospital is visible now half a block up, and I push my anger at Cale aside and concentrate on the problem at hand. “Try blowing again, nugget.”

  She does. “It didn’t come out.”

  “Okay. No worries,” I reply and pull into the parking lot.

  The nurse at the desk is the friendly blond lady Sadie sent in to check on Eli. I tell Charlie to sit in the plastic chair nearest the counter and walk up. I smile. “Hi. How are you tonight?”

  “I’m doing okay. Thank you for asking.” She seems surprised I asked. She smiles and glances past me at Charlie. “Your little one under the weather?”

  I shake my head. “No, she stuck a raisin up her nose and we can’t get it out.”

  The blonde, whose name tag says Shelda, doesn’t even blink. “Right. Sadie just told me you’d be coming in. We can handle that. You know my kid once wedged three marbles up his nose.”

  I chuckle. “Is there a support group for parents who go through this? Because I could use it right about now.”

  Shelda laughs. “I wish.”

  She asks for my insurance card and gives me some paperwork to fill out. I sit down next to Charlie and fill it in. Charlie looks nervous again. I rub her back. “It’s okay. This place is big and smells funny, but the people are really nice and they’ll get rid of the raisin. The nurse told me her son shoved marbles up his nose.”

  “Really? I wouldn’t do that. They’re too big!”

  “Why did you do this, Charlie?” I ask without condemnation.