* * *
I didn’t get much sleep last night so today I’m dragging. Just getting Hope up and ready for school saps up all of my energy. She, on the other hand, is a bouncing ball of endless energy. I’m grateful she has school today because otherwise there’s no way I could keep up with her.
After I drop her off, I drive straight home for a nap before I have to pick her up. Usually I use the time she’s in school to get things done around the house that are impossible to do when she’s around—like cleaning—but today that’s not happening. I’m too tired.
After my nap, I pick her up, and because she’s still all worked up from school I decide to take her to the park for an hour. It’s pure chance that I notice a beige car pull out behind me when we leave her preschool and follow us all the way to the playground. After I park, the car drives on past so I figure it must be just coincidence. I’m probably being overly paranoid but something about it triggered my mommy radar.
Taking a seat on a
bench, I keep a close eye on Hope as she plays while I text Max through my phone. He’s training today and he already has so much on his mind I don’t bother to mention the car to him. After agreeing to have dinner with him tonight on my break, I gather up Hope and drive us home.
The rest of the week passes mercifully drama-free. On the nights I have to work, Max comes into Thursdays to have dinner with me on my break. I’ve gotten into the habit of having the cooks prepare his food in a special way for him so it doesn’t fuck with his training too much. Lots of clean protein and whatever fresh vegetables I set aside for him.
On the nights I’m not working, we have dinner at his place. Each day it gets harder and harder to say good night to him. It just feels like there’s never enough time, and I know we both would rather be saying good morning.
This weekend, though, is Carson’s weekend. For once he’s actually adhering to the drop off time and location—six o’clock at his house.
“I don’t want to go to Carson’s,” Hope whines from my backseat. “I want to stay with you and Bear.”
I sigh and give her a pointed look through the rearview mirror. “Don’t call him Carson, honey…”
Hope’s lips purse into an epic pout and she crosses her arms over her chest. “But that’s what he tells me to call him.”
I jerk a little in surprise. “Does he?”
Hope nods her head and honestly I don’t want to believe her but she’s rarely dishonest with me. Don’t get me wrong, she’s told some pretty gnarly fibs in her lifetime but it’s usually obvious when she’s lying about something.
“Did he say why?”
Her pout only deepens, and she shakes her head.
I stare out my windshield wondering how or if I should even bring it up to him.
We’re two turns away from Carson’s street and I’m still chewing it over when Hope asks out of nowhere. “Do you think Bear would let me call him Daddy?”
Thank goodness I’m sitting at a red light. If we were moving I probably would have hit a tree or something.
Getting my heartbeat under control, I wait until the light turns green and we’re rolling forward before telling her. “Max isn’t your daddy.”
“But I want him to be,” she whines.
I don’t even know how to respond to that so I don’t. I pull into Carson’s driveway and send him a quick text letting him know I’m here. He comes out of the house and I help Hope out of my backseat before unhooking her booster seat.
“Hey,” Carson calls out in greeting.
Lugging the booster seat out of my backseat, I plop it to the ground. “Hey,” I nod back at him.
Hope shifts from foot to foot and when I give her a pointed look she just pouts back at me.
Carson steps up to Hope and spreads his arms open as if he’s expecting a hug. Hope turns her back to him.
“Hope!” I scold. Her arms cross over her chest and her chin drops so far down she’s poking herself in the ribs with it.
“She’s in a bad mood today…” I say apologetically and Carson nods as if he gets it before he looks down at the booster seat.
“I don’t need that this time.”
“Oh, yeah?”