“Amazing. We’re going out again on Saturday. He’s taking me back to Harden’s Bar.” I would rather cut my pinky toe off with a spork than go on another date with Travis, but Logan can’t know that. If I have to drink a beer by myself in a crappy bar to make Logan jealous, then so be it.
“That place is a shithole. He should take you somewhere nicer.”
“Yeah, well, not everyone can be as classy as you.” I meant it as an insult, but thinking back to all the times Logan went out back in high school, he was a perfect gentleman. Even that first night at the wedding, he could have easily kissed me, but he didn’t. As much as I hate to admit it, I probably would have enjoyed Aribella’s had we gone together.
Logan smirks, a witty comment on the edge of his tongue. The door opens and Molly skips out. She looks up at him like he’s her hero, completely ignoring the fact that I’m on the porch too. He swoops Molly into his arms and whispers something in her ear. She smiles excitedly and nods. “Would you like to join Molly and me for breakfast?”
“I don’t know.” Yes. A hundred times yes. Even if he is doing a great job at this daddy-business, I don’t trust them alone together yet. “Don’t you want daddy daughter time?”
Logan shrugs and carries Molly down the steps. “We had that last night. Besides, we need to take your car. Mine doesn’t have a back seat.”
25
Logan
I could have brought the State Trooper. It has a back seat. A very safe backseat might I add, but I didn’t want to give Danika the opportunity to say no. She would rather cut off her left tit than have Molly sit up front.
“I should have known you needed me for something.” Danika rolls her eyes and steps inside again to grab her purse and keys.
I carry Molly down the steps and wait beside Danika’s Explorer. I like that she has a bigger car, up off the ground. Bigger is always safer, I just wish it was newer. Danika clicks the unlock button of her car from the porch. I open the passenger door and buckle Molly into her safety seat. “All set, pretty girl.”
Molly beams up at me and I don’t know how I’ve survived the past four years without her. She changes everything. I don’t wake up feeling dead anymore, needing my Sprite tinged vodka to warm my insides. I threw that shit away the day they moved back. I know Danika, if she ever caught me with a hint of alcohol on my breath she’d keep me from Molly; and she’s not stupid enough to fall for my mint gum trick.
Do I still like to have a drink? Of course, but now it’s one or two at night. After my shift. More importantly, after I see my girls.
This feeling of completeness could have something to do with Danika being back and getting to see her almost everyday when I come over to visit Molly, but I’d rather attribute it to my daughter.
I close her door and slip into the front passenger seat. Danika turns the key in the ignition and glares at me. She’s pretending to be irritated, but I know she’s happy to be coming with us. “Where to?”
“Head down town to Aimee’s. It doesn’t get busy until about ten, after church lets out. We should have the place to ourselves.”
Danika’s brakes squeal as she backs out of the driveway. Molly cries, covering her ears until we’ve changed gears and the sound is gone. Well, that sound is gone. Her engine has an unsettling rattle. “Is it in the same spot it was back in high school?”
“When was the last time you had this thing serviced?” I lean my arm onto the center console and peer at the gauges. Her odometer has over a hundred thousand miles on it. I sit back in my seat, thinking about how unsafe this was to drive all the way from Georgia.
“I don’t know.” Danika huffs. “A few months ago? I think.”
She slows, going over a speed bump and her engine thunks, literally hitting the hood. I rub the back of my neck, trying hard not to sound like a dick. “Your motor mounts are shot.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” she says, pulling into a parking space.
Knowing better than to push the topic, I let it go. For now. I get out and open the back passenger door. Molly is fumbling with her safety harness, trying to push the button to be released. She looks up at me, a big crooked grin that mirrors mine, then signs something with her hands.
“Help?” I ask her. Molly nods and waits. I shake my finger at her. “Can you say help?”
Molly frowns and looks down at her hands. “H… h….p.” She shakes her head.
“Good job, baby. That was really good.” I press the red buckle of the five-point harness. Molly looks up at me with tear-filled eyes. I remember that struggle. The inability to find the sounds needed. The horrible feeling of failure that swallows you whole and makes you not want to try again. I hold my arms out, pick Molly up, and squeeze her tight. “It’s not easy, but you’re doing great, baby girl. Don't give up.”
Molly nods against my shoulder, keeping her head hidden.
“She okay? Danika asks, rounding the back of her vehicle.
“She’s fine. Just hungry.” I pat the back of Molly’s back, trying to push my own confidence into her. “Right, baby girl?”
Molly keeps her face hidden but gives us a thumbs up.
Inside, the hostess sits us at my usual booth. I come here most mornings to grab a coffee. I’d rather support Ms. Aimee than a franchise. As expected, there are only two other patrons this early. Our breakfast comes within ten minutes of ordering, not leaving much time for idle chatter. Which is fine because Danika isn’t in much of a talking mood. Before I know it, we’re back in her clunker headed home.