The light in Matt’s eyes over my words shines bright. He knows his son is wonderful, and the fact I just said his son is just like him means that he is wonderful, too.
Gabe comes tearing back into the room and I start to get off Matt’s lap, but he holds me tight. There’s apparently no personal space to a seven-year-old because he runs to the couch and jumps on both Matt and me. “I need you to tie my shoes, Dad.”
“Nope,” Matt says. “You know how to do it.”
“I forget how,” he pouts.
“Well… I heard that in order to get into Coney Island, you have to prove you can tie your shoes. If you can’t do it, we can’t go.”
Gabe looks at his dad, trying to determine if what he is saying is true. He’s a smart kid though and not willing to risk rejection at Coney Island. He pushes away from Matt and me and starts tying his shoes.
Little stinker.
I look at Matt and giggle, and he just shrugs his shoulders. “All the negotiations skills I learned as a lawyer have been invaluable raising a child.”
When Gabe finishes with his laces, he reaches over and grabs Matt’s hand. “Come on, Dad. Let’s go.”
Matt and I stand up from the couch and start walking toward the door. He grabs his wallet and car keys off a table in the foyer.
“What do you want to do at Coney Island today?” Matt asks Gabe.
Gabe starts rattling off his agenda at about a hundred miles an hour. “I want to ride the Cyclone, play skeeball, eat hot dogs and cotton candy, and then go to the beach, and then we can ride the Cyclone again. I’ll ride it once with you, and then Mac can ride it with me.” He continues chattering, and I’m staring at him in wonder because it’s amazing to me that a child can talk for that length of time and not even pause to take a breath.
Matt opens the door while my eyes are helplessly pinned to Gabe as he continues his speech. We start to follow Matt out but he comes to an abrupt stop, and I run into his back.
Looking up and around Matt’s shoulder, I see a woman standing in the hallway. She was apparently getting ready to knock.
She’s stunning. Pale blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and huge boobs. She’s every man’s wet dream.
For a brief moment, I think this is some woman that Matt is seeing behind my back. But then I immediately take in the way that Matt’s shoulders stiffen and his jaw muscle starts popping. A sure sign that he is not a happy camper.
Then it becomes clear who this is.
Matt grits out, “Marissa… what are you doing here?”
So this is Matt’s ex-wife. The one that screwed around on him. The one that left him with a bitter heart and made my work all that much harder.
The look she gives Matt chills my bones. It’s calculating and vindictive. She pushes past Matt into the apartment, and I have to step back so she doesn’t run me over. “I’ve had a change in plans, so I’m here to get Gabe.”
Turning to me, she says, “And you are?”
Well, this is awkward. Do I stick my hand out and introduce myself? Before I can even think what to say, Gabe grabs ahold of Marissa’s hand and says, “This is Mac, Mommy. She’s daddy’s friend.”
Marissa’s eyes roam up and down me briefly, and then they are dismissive. Turning to Matt, she says, “I don’t appreciate you bringing your flavor of the week around our son.”
Matt’s eyes flash in anger, but his voice is completely calm. “Marissa… I’m not doing this with you. Not in front of Gabe. We’re on our way out to Coney Island. I can bring him by your place later this evening.”
“Sorry. That just won’t work for me. I’m taking him now.”
Gabe pipes up. “I want to go to Coney Island with Daddy.”
Marissa hardly gives him a glance. “Not today, baby. We have other things to do.”
“Marissa… don’t make Gabe suffer because you want to get back at me.”
She doesn’t even bother to respond, but I see triumph in her eyes. Unbelievable. The bitch is punishing Gabe just to punish Matt.