“Then why did you call?”
Why had I called? I had his number, so maybe this was to get an update on the children. Maybe this was to check up on Benjamin and Hunter and Zoey. I was wondering how they were doing. How they were getting along with their uncle. And I had his number. That meant I had a right to check in. Especially after what I’d gone through with CPS and going over to Ryan’s apartment.
This was all about the kids.
Right?
“How about this?” Ryan asked. “We can talk about how the kids are doing over dinner.”
“Why not over the phone?” I asked.
“Because I’m a busy man and I’m still working.”
“Then who’s with the kids?”
“I am. I’m on my laptop at home while they’re watching a movie?”
“You mean they’re right there?” I asked.
“What? Embarrassed to be seen talking on the phone with me? Man, you really must not enjoy me at all.”
I sighed as I leaned back heavily into the couch. I put my face in my hand as his proposition turned over in my head. It made sense that he wouldn't want to talk about the children while they were right there. And what would dinner hurt? I wouldn’t dress up solely to make a point, and I would keep the conversation centered around them the entire time. No personal questions, no fooling around with feet underneath a table, and no dressing up.
That would send a clear signal, and Ryan would probably be so embarrassed to be seen with the likes of me that he wouldn't ask again.
Good.
Because I didn’t want him to.
“All right,” I said. “When do you want to do dinner?”
“Have you eaten already tonight?” Ryan asked.
“No. It was a long day at-... wait. Have you not eaten? Have the kids not eaten?”
“Relax. The kids have eaten. I’ll call my friend Paul to come sit with them and they can have a sleepover with his daughter. They all get along fine. We’ll go get a late bite to eat, hunker down and talk a bit. Maybe press the replay button a little bit…”
I shook my head as a sigh fell from my lips. I had to admit, kissing Ryan again would’ve been nice. But this was about the children. I wanted to know how they were doing and if this was the only way to get that information, then I’d suffer through it.
“Okay,” I said. “Tonight’s fine.”
“Great. I’ll call Paul and text you when I’m headed over. Send me your address.”
“I can meet you there,” I said.
“No, I’m picking you up. That’s what a gentleman does.”
“Are you really trying to convince me that you’re a gentleman?”
“Oh, can’t wait for the verbal jousting over dinner. Send me your address. I’ll see you in a few.”
I groaned as I hung up the phone and sent him my address. I got up and went into my room to look over what I was wearing. A pair of pajama bottoms, a t-shirt with no bra, and a worn-out cardigan with holes in it.
I briefly debated on making him take me out like this before I started to change.
I pulled on a pair of worn skinny jeans and put on a bra. It wasn’t nice. It was actually one of my more ragged ones. But it was comfortable and that was what I was gunning for. I pulled a blouse over my head and piled my hair high, then put my arms back through my holey cardigan.
It was comfortable, and I didn’t care what he thought of me when he got here.