“That might help actually.”
“You’re back to being an ass. The world feels right again.” Opening my door, I got inside and leaned out the window, “See you tomorrow, Hayes. We had a nice moment.”
He groaned, heading towards his truck.
I started the engine, and as I passed by him, I shouted, “Let’s not do that again.” I pulled out of the lot and headed home. When I got there, I saw Mark’s and Cass’ cars in the driveway. The euphoria from a great run had started to dwindle, and I knew what I’d be walking into if I went inside. I didn’t want to go in there. Garrett had been calling every night. To be fair to my biological father so he couldn’t be accused of keeping me away, David relayed the messages to me, but I knew I wasn’t getting all of them. The pressure to see him was building up, but I didn’t want to be worn down. When I asked Mason for his advice, he told me to say, ‘fuck you and the horse you rode in on.’ The last couple times, as David was apologizing for another message from Garrett, I finally snapped and relayed Mason’s words. A big grin came over my dad, and he gave the message back. It hadn’t worked. Garrett kept calling. It was by accident that I found out that David hadn’t been telling me how much Garrett had been calling. They had to put the phone on silent in the evenings. That tidbit slipped out when Malinda was explaining to Mark why Cass should only call him on the landline. It hadn’t made sense to me, but Mark knew instantly. He laughed and said, “Good one, Mom. I know that phone’s silenced in the evening because of Sam’s other dad. No, thank you. Cass will keep calling my cell phone.”
He left, and I heard Malinda mutter from the stairs, “Not if I stop paying for that phone. It’ll take you a year to figure out that it doesn’t work anymore.” She grunted. “Food for thought.”
I went to the front of the house and sat on the porch swing. I didn’t want to hear another message. I wasn’t ready. I was still there when Helen came stomping from her house, across the street, and up our sidewalk. She was wearing a beautiful gown. It was light blue and matched her eyes perfectly. Like always, her hair was pinned up in a sleek bun. She had a hand resting on her neck, holding down the pearls so they wouldn’t bounce. She wasn’t looking up. She was watching where she walked and paused, one hand holding up her dress, so she wouldn't trip or tear it, as she stepped onto our stoop. As she let it drop, she lifted her head and saw me.
Her eyes widened and her head reared back an inch. “Oh, Samantha. I didn’t see you there.”
I lifted a hand in a careless wave. “Yep. Saw that. Sitting here.” I let my hand drop back down with a thud.
Her eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong with you?” she rushed out, like it was an afterthought, not really caring about the answer. She craned her head so she could look inside the house again, through the door’s windows. I knew who she was looking for.
“Logan’s not here.”
She looked back at me. Her gaze swept me up and down. “Are you sure? You look like you were running. We both know that could take hours with you.”
I said, dully, “He’s on a date with Kris.”
“Kris?”
I gave her a second look. “His girlfriend.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Logan has a girlfriend?”
“Good god,” I muttered.
“What’s she like?” Helen left the door and moved towards me. Her hand went back to holding onto her precious pearls.
I shrugged. “Peppy. Little. A cute, pixy-like girl.”
She paled. The corners of her lips curved down. “She sounds dreadful. Wait. Was she over the other morning?”
I nodded.
“Gracious, I had no idea he had taken her as a girlfriend.”
I gave her a sweet smile. “I think he loves her.” I wanted to watch her squirm.
“He does?” She tried to hold back a shudder.
I nodded. “He asked me about home pregnancy tests last week too.”
She froze, then drew to her fullest height, and rolled her eyes. “Har, har, Samantha. You’re so funny. You’ve been spending too much time with Logan, you know. That’s something he would’ve said.” Her lips pressed together, and she let out a sigh. “What’s your problem? You look like I used to during my first marriage.”
“I’ll take that as an insult.”
She waved me off and moved so she was leaning against the post. After making sure her dress wouldn’t stain, she fixed her steely gaze on me again. I had a flash of Mason staring me down before we started dating.
She lifted her hand and made a circling motion. “Okay. Get on with it. What’s your problem?”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t, but my son does.” She grimaced. “Both my sons care about you. So tell me. Out with it. What’s going on with you?”
“You know,” I mused, a sense of not giving a shit surged up in me, “any other adult and I’d want to know your angle. There’s always one, but with you it’s so clear cut.”