We didn’t take it easy on Chaz, just like I know for a fact my girls wouldn’t go easy on Winston if it ever came to that. They’re fiercely protective of me, especially Lola. But Chaz never gave up or quit trying to prove to us that he was different and that he wasn’t going anywhere… just like I have a feeling Winston is trying to do with this whole friendship solution of his.
“So when do I get to meet the guy you’re dating?” Chaz asks Mia, cutting into my thoughts, and she looks at me around his broad chest, narrowing her eyes when I laugh.
“Umm…” She glances between Chaz and Mom. “We just started dating. I’m not sure I’m ready to start introducing him to family yet.”
“He’s met the girls, ate dinner with them, and took them out for ice cream,” I tattle, grinning at her, and then I add, looking back at Mom and Chaz, “He’s really nice, like really nice.”
“I want to meet him. What’s he doing tonight?” Mom demands.
“He’s working, and even if he wasn’t, I wouldn’t just spring meeting my parents on him. I need to give him a heads-up and prepare him for that introduction.”
“You brought Sheppard to dinner as soon as you started dating him,” Mom says, and Mia’s nose scrunches, because Mom’s right. She totally did. But I remember Mia saying it was because she didn’t really care about him. She liked him, but it was just superficial. She said she knew it would never be anything more than it was. She had also known him for years, and our parents met him a few times before they started seeing each other, so it hadn’t been a big deal to bring him to dinner.
“It’s that serious?” Chaz asks, and she tips her head back to look him in the eye. “Damn, it’s that serious,” he mutters.
Mia sighs. “Cece’s right. He’s really nice, and I like him a lot. I want you guys to meet him. I just want to see where his head’s at when it comes to that kind of thing.”
“We’ll wait until you’re ready,” Chaz says quietly, then kisses her on the forehead.
“I hate that I have to leave, but I need to get ready for work,” I mumble before looking at my girls and stepping away from Chaz. “Get your homework done so you don’t have to worry about it after dinner.”
“Sure, Mom,” Lola says, and Kate huffs.
“Grandma, will you help me study my vocabulary words?” Ruby asks.
“Of course I will.” She kisses the top of her head. “Get your stuff, and we’ll sit in the living room.”
“I’m going to unload the car.” Chaz grabs his keys off the counter.
“After I get the girls settled and their lunch bags taken care of, I’ll come out and help you,” Mia tells him.
“I got it, honey,” he says before he heads for the front door without a backward glance, and I go get ready for work.
21
Winston
“You promised you wouldn’t avoid me at work anymore,” I tell Cece, grabbing the rag from the sink, wringing it out, and start wiping down the bar in front of where she sits on the other side, rolling silverware. It was a pretty chill night, so I had expected her to stop to maybe chat with me when she picked up orders like she did before I ever kissed her, but she hadn’t.
She places a spoon, knife, and fork in the black fabric napkin and rolls it up. “I wasn’t avoiding you. I just have a lot on my mind is all.”
“Need to vent?” I ask, stopping my wiping and staring at her until she finally looks up and meets my gaze. “That’s what friends do, Cece. They vent to each other.”
She sighs, shaking her head. “I had a not so pleasant conversation with Mike on the way to work, and it’s just eating at me. I hate this walking on eggshells feeling I have all the time, not wanting to rock the boat because of all the divorce shit.”
I lean down and rest my crossed arms on the countertop, getting eye level with her. “What was the conversation about?”
She sighs again and rolls another set of silverware. “My parents arrived today. I called my mom the night Mike showed up when he was served—like an idiot, I might add; I should’ve known better than to call her crying—and my girls want to go to a cabin with them in Gatlinburg this weekend. I realized I’d have to ask Mike’s permission, since it would take away the one night he gets them, and I’ve never had to do that before. So I was already feeling super awkward about asking another person permission to do anything with my own children.”
She grips a rolled set tightly, her little knuckles turning white with the pressure. “He said no. Even though he has his stupid softball or whatever game on Saturday afternoon and wouldn’t pick them up until around six or seven, he still said no. And I didn’t even try to argue. I was so worried about pissing him off and doubling down on his efforts to get the girls to live with him that I just meekly said okay and that was the end of it.”