LISA
Normally, I fall asleep in only a few minutes, exhausted by the demands of work and toddler-herding, but tonight I stare into the darkness for what feels like hours. My head is spinning, replaying the day's events over and over.
Jennie's smile, her body in that swimsuit, the land mines of our conversation about my chat with Hanbin, the unbearable sexual tension, how natural it felt playing with Lauren together . . . and then the bomb Jennie dropped.
A date. She's going out on a date in less than forty-eight hours. And he's another teacher, a teacher at her school, so they're sure to have tons in common. Sure to get along just fucking fantastic. Bastard. Who is this asshole, anyway? I should have asked for his name so I could snoop online.
Abruptly, I sit up. What the hell am I thinking? Of course I shouldn't have.
Get a grip. They're going on one date; it's not like they're getting married. And even if they were, I sternly tell myself, she has the right to do whatever the hell she wants. I'm not her girlfriend. She doesn't have any obligations to me. She's a grown-ass woman, and I need to act like a grown-ass man.
He probably isn't a single dada.
No, dammit, stop this!
I'm acting like a lunatic, and if I keep sitting alone in the dark letting all this shit rattle around my mind, I'm going to become one. I need to talk this out with someone who doesn't have any skin in the game, unlike Mom or Hanbin. Someone who can commiserate with me and maybe offer some advice.
I grab my phone and open the group text with Mark, Yeri, and Lucas.
LISA: Hey, guys, is anyone still up?
Surprisingly—or maybe not, given that none of them have kids—it's only a few minutes before Lucas replies.
You forget all about your big-city friends?
I type, Sorry I've been AWOL for so long, a lot's happened since I left. I actually wanted to talk about some of it.
MARK: Sure, what's up?
I type out my reply. So, do you guys remember Jennie?
It's Yeri who responds first.
YERI: Your old high-school sweetheart? Yeah. Did you run into her?
I chuckle and decide to come clean. A little more than that . . . I hired her as a nanny.
LUCAS: OMG, dude, I can't tell if you're a genius or a moron.
His message is accompanied by a cry-laughing emoji.
MARK: You still into her?
LISA: Way too much. And even though she's still mad about how I fucked up our relationship when I left, I'm pretty sure the attraction isn't one-sided. I've definitely caught her checking me out. Like today, when we were at the beach.
YERI: See? I told you there'd be women into the single dada scene.
I huff out a sigh and start typing again.
LISA: But a few nights before that, she said no when I asked her out, and today she said she had a date this weekend, and now I'm losing my shit.
I shift on the mattress, worried for a second I've said too much. But I've never had to censor myself around them before, so why start now?
MARK: Spoke too soon, Yeri.
YERI: How did that come up? Did she just bring it up out of the blue or what?
LISA: I said I asked her brother what was going on with her, dating-wise—
MARK: Why the hell would you tell her about that? Or do it at all, actually?
LISA: Summarizing makes it sound worse than it was. It seemed like a good idea at the time, just let me finish. So I said her brother didn't like the idea of us dating, but I didn't care what he thought, the only important thing was what she thought. And that's when she told me about the other guy.
MARK: Oof, shot down twice.
LUCAS: I have one question for you . . . when's the last time you got laid?
LISA: What's wrong with you? Is my sex life all you ever think about?
LUCAS: Shut up and listen to me. This is very important. You need to get some post-nut clarity before you make any more decisions about this chick, or else your dick is going to keep calling the shots, and that'll be bad for everyone involved.
I snort and shake my head. My friends are idiots, but there's a kernel of truth to Lucas's advice.
MARK: I never thought I'd say this, but I agree with Lucas.
LUCAS: Hey!
MARK: It's obvious you haven't been thinking clearly about this situation.
YERI: I get it. It's confusing that she acts like she wants you and then says she doesn't or can't or shouldn't or whatever. But sometimes we get horny for people who aren't right for us. And it seems like that's true for both of you.
LISA: Believe me, I know. I know I should try to move on. But I just can't let her go.
And I know they're just trying to be helpful, but this situation, my feelings for Jennie are not about hormones or being horny.
LUCAS: You've really got it bad, huh?
YERI: I'm sorry this is so rough. I don't really have any good advice.
LISA: No, talking has helped. Thanks, guys . . . I'll think about it more tomorrow. For now, I'm going to have a glass of whiskey and try again to get some sleep.
• • •
"Ooh, it all looks so tasty, I can't decide," Mom says, poring over the café's menu.
Gail smiles. "Your appetite's really improved." The hot, humid breeze ruffles our hair, and she lays one hand on the drink menu so it doesn't blow away.
"I'm glad," I say, part listening, part figuring out what to order for myself and Lauren, and part trying to stop her from launching herself out of the high chair at the bear-like dog resting by the next table. "I think this was a good idea."
Our original plan for today was to go over to Mom's place and cook brunch for her, but when we found her feeling great for once, I decided, Fuck it, let's seize the opportunity. I couldn't remember the last time Mom and I went to a restaurant together, and I knew we'd never been on a family outing with Lauren in the mix.
Not to mention, I'm painfully aware that Mom doesn't have many more chances to do nice things like this—the three of us need to make memories together while we can. So even though I've spent the last two nights unable to fall asleep until unholy hours, I'm glad we're putting in the effort.
"Doggy!" Lauren says loudly.
"I know, love bug, it's a dog," I say. "What do you want, Gail?"
Gail shakes her head. "I ate breakfast before my shift started, so I don't need anything."
"I asked what you wanted, not needed," I say with a smile. "I insist, get whatever you like. My treat."
"I can come back," someone says.
Keeping one eye on Lauren, I look to find our waiter standing by. "I'm ready if you all are."
"Sure. I'll have the . . ." Gail glances at the menu. "Basic egg-white combo and a coffee."
I say, "Coffee for me too, and the—"
Lauren glares at me. "Dada, doggy!"
Nodding to Lauren, I quickly finish our order, ordering eggs for me and pancakes for my daughter.
The waiter turns to Mom. "Coffee for you as well, ma'am?"
"Oh, I wish I could, but coffee's started giving me a stomachache lately. I'll have iced tea, please, and the spinach eggs benedict."
He takes our menus and departs just as Lauren hits the end of her patience with being ignored and releases an earsplitting howl of "Dooooggiiiiiieeeee!"
The old man at the next table lets out a warm, gravelly laugh. "That's a powerful set of pipes. Would your little princess like to meet Hamburger?" he asks me. "He's very calm."
Giving up, I lift Lauren out of her seat and set her down. "I think she might explode if she doesn't."
She screams with glee and buries her chubby fingers deep in the dog's plush coat. True to his owner's word, the dog barely moves, except to lick her cheek—prompting another loud squeal.
"Gentle, love bug, you've got to be gentle with animals," I say. "How would you feel if someone pulled your hair?"
Lauren pauses to process this, then continues mauling the dog, only a little less fiercely. He doesn't seem to mind, based on how his tail thumps a rapid beat on the concrete patio.
Gail asks the old man, "So, Hamburger?"
"My granddaughter named him. She's thirteen now, but she was only . . . oh, about your little one's age when he was born."
"How darling," Mom coos.
Hamburger is a good sport, but when the food arrives, Lauren loses interest in tormenting him and toddles back to me. "Hungwy."
"Now seems like the right time to get going. It was nice meeting you all." The old man touches his hat and leaves, the dog matching his sedate pace.
"You too. Have a good day," I reply as I lift Lauren back into her high chair.
"This looks wonderful." Mom takes a large bite and her face breaks out in a wide smile. "And it tastes even better."
The conversation is as pleasant as the food and early summer weather. Lighthearted chatting about the TV shows we've seen lately, the cute or funny things Lauren has done, the novel series Mom's been working her way through. For a while, there's no such thing as cancer or even my troubles with Jennie.
"So I'm really looking forward to finding out what's going to happen between the duchess and that one knight," Mom says, sipping her tea. "Oh, but would you listen to me, going on and on. How has your work been?"
I shrug. "Pretty much the same as ever—crazy busy, but good. I've been riding hard on the New York guys, and things seem to be going fine up there. Some contractors are coming to work on the beach house starting tomorrow, and I think it'll be ready to rent in less than a month. I've also been looking for a good place to buy downtown."
"Wonderful. And how's Jennie? Did you two ever make up?"
I should have known this was coming. "Everything's fine," I say, not knowing or caring whether it's a lie. Desperate for any way to steer the conversation in a different direction, I ask Lauren, "You wanna tell Grandma about all the fun stuff you've done with Jennie?"
Lighting up, she says, "We do sketti and ice scweam and paint big picture lotsa messy paint and make a castle 'n dig sand and water so big on feet and . . ."
She babbles on excitedly, her words coming faster and faster until even I, with all my practice at "Lauren-ese," can barely understand. Gail looks completely lost.
When Lauren finishes, Mom says slowly, "All right, I think I got the parts about food and art."
Laughing, I summarize. "The three of us have been to the beach a couple times, and she loved it."
Mom's brow furrows in confusion. "Three? You're paying Jennie to look after Lauren, but you're also looking after Lauren yourself?"
Shit, I revealed too much. "That only happened once." I'm aware that I sound ridiculously defensive, but I can't turn it off. "And I think it was helpful to have an extra pair of hands there. The second time at the beach, we just ran into each other by chance."
"Oh, I'm not criticizing you—far from it. I'm pleased as punch to hear you're enjoying quality time with your two girls," Mom says, beaming.
The hell? "What do you mean by that? Jennie isn't my girl." No matter how much I wish that were the case. "She's my employee."
Mom gives me a look. She has many looks, and I know most of them pretty well, but this one is complex. A contradictory mix of you're such a fool sometimes, and you're smart enough to figure out what you need to do here.
I'm too tired to try to decode her meaning. If she has a point to make about Jennie, she can say it. "What?" I ask tersely.
"Nothing at all." Mom takes a delicate bite of her eggs benedict.
Nothing, my ass.
Fortunately, before we can get into it further, my phone rings.
"One sec," I mumble as I pull it out of my pocket. "Let me check this . . ."
The name on the screen definitely isn't work-related.
"Jennie?"
"Lisa!" she shouts loud enough for the whole table to overhear. "I'm really sorry to call you out of nowhere but my car won't start and I have to be at the dentist in forty-five minutes and I tried calling roadside assistance but my membership expired literally two days ago and Hanbin isn't answering his phone, he's probably still asleep or forgot to turn on his ringer again, and Jisoo's gone to friggin' Wyoming to visit her parents, so I didn't know who else to—"
I reflexively put my hand up, even though she can't see it. "Hey, slow down, don't worry about it. Send me your address, and I'll be right over."
"Are you sure? I can call a tow truck." At least she's calmed down enough to pause for breath again.
"I'm not going to make you pay an arm and a leg for towing when I'm right nearby. Seriously, it's fine."
Standing, I look to Mom and Gail. "Sorry, I have to go help Jennie real quick. Should I bring Lauren or would it be okay to leave her here?"
Mom shakes her head. "We've got her."
I nod, and press a kiss to the top Lauren's head. "Stay with Grandma." I glance at my mom with appreciation. I'll be back in . . ." I check the map link she sent me. "Twenty minutes. Here's my credit card in case the waiter wants our payment."
Ignoring Mom's renewed look, I jog out to the car, and a few minutes later, I pull into the parking lot of an apartment building that looks like it's seen better days. I drive slowly around until I spot Jennie standing next to a small silver hatchback with its hood standing open. I maneuver as close as I can, pop the latch on my own hood, and get out.
Jennie is wearing a pale blue sundress and strappy tan sandals. Her long bare legs are tanned, and her hair lifts in the breeze.
Shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand, she turns and gives me a little wave and a nervous smile. "Thanks for coming."
"Of course. Should I take a look?" I tip my chin toward her car to keep myself from looking at her legs again.
She nods. "It's just a dead battery, I think."
"I have jumper cables." Turning, I open the trunk of my car and pull them out.
"Sorry about dragging you out here on such short notice," Jennie says behind me.
"It's not a problem."
After I hook up our batteries and I start my car, I let it run for five minutes, during which I watch Jennie waiting in her driver's seat. Getting paranoid that I'm staring too much, I look away, look back, and repeat.
Finally, I yell, "Try it now."
Jennie's engine struggles, then kicks over and growls. She sticks her head out the window to give a celebratory whoop. "It worked!"
"Great. Now just sit tight and keep it running for at least half an hour. I'll take these back." I turn off my ignition and get out to unlink our cars.
"Thank God. I didn't know what I was going to do." She flashes me a relieved smile that makes my stomach do gymnastics.
The back of my neck feels hot and I rub it, feeling both pleased and awkward. "Seriously, it was nothing. Consider it payback for saving my ass with Lauren while Mom was in the ER." I finish and loop the cables over my arm.
She shakes her head with a wry heh. "That time doesn't count. You paid me actual money for that, so you don't need to do me any favors."
I inhale deeply and take the leap. "Well, if you really feel indebted, maybe you could come over and hang out tonight? We'll order a pizza, do some finger-painting with Lauren . . ."
Her face falls into a frown. "I can't. I have my date." Her tone is a little irritated, but it's mixed with something else. Regret? But that's probably wishful thinking.
"Right," I mutter.
Of course. I knew that was happening. I haven't been able to forget it for a minute since she told me.
Some stupid, desperate part of me was hoping that the guy got food poisoning or something and canceled at the last minute. Or that she'd woken up one morning and thought, Actually, I changed my mind. I'm totally cool with that little ripping-my-high-school-heart-out incident now—let's go on a date!
Jennie gives me a small, almost shy smile. "But thank you for rescuing me. I really appreciate it . . . and you."
"Anytime," I say, and mean it.
• • •
"Sorry about that," I say as I sit back down at our table. "I hope Lauren didn't make too much of a fuss."
Gail smiles. "No problem. She was a perfect angel."
In a tone that pretends to be innocent but is blatantly laden with meaning, Mom says, "Seems like you care a lot about that girl."
Downplaying it, I shrug. "She needed help, so I helped. It was just the decent thing to do. Stop reading so much into every random detail of what happens between me and Jennie."
Mom coolly raises her eyebrows. "Yes, helping is decent, and I'm proud I raised a good girl who doesn't think twice about it. But if it were anyone else, would you have immediately dropped everything and rushed over like you just did? Or would you have just paid for a repairman to go out and handle it?"
Her words knock the wind out of me. I protest weakly, "Maybe I would've for a total stranger, but there's a big difference between a stranger and what you're insinuating. I'd do the same for Hanbin or any other friend."
But we both know Mom sees straight through me. Although her logic doesn't hold up, her intuition is spot-on.
There's no arguing with her or with myself. I'm in so far over my head, it isn't even funny.