“What the fuck are you thinking? Why haven’t you told him?”
“I don’t know. He’s just got so much going on right now with the start of hockey season. He’s also really stressed out because it’s a contract year.” I chewed on the corner of my lip, wondering if I was trying to talk myself into believing what I was saying. “I just don’t want to put any more on his plate, ya know?”
Alexa eyed me skeptically. “Mmhmm. So what did the dickhead say? Where’s he been all these years?”
“Well, it was a long-drawn-out story, but basically he was battling some pretty big demons. Way bigger than anything I knew about.”
Whenever I thought about the conversation Zach and I had in that cafeteria, the way his chin quivered, the sincere regret in his voice as he poured his heart out, I couldn’t help but feel bad for him.
“Oh my God. You’re going to let him back in, aren’t you?”
“Back in where?” I snapped defensively.
“Anywhere!”
“I don’t know. He hasn’t seen the girls yet, but I think I’m going to let him… eventually.”
She didn’t say anything as she dramatically dropped her pruning shears on the counter and turned to wash her hands in the sink.
“I know you don’t agree,” I defended, “but it’s my decision, and he is technically their dad.”
She spun around and narrowed her eyes at me. “What did you just call him?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Uh, no, I don’t. He’s a fucking sperm donor, Kacie, not their father. I’ve been more of a father to those girls than he has.”
I looked down at my hands and picked at my dark pink nail polish, distracting myself from making eye contact with her. “I know you have. But… what if he’s changed? What if he can have some sort of positive role in the girls’ lives? Don’t they deserve that?”
Alexa tapped her foot against the cold tile, staring a hole right into the top of my head. I could feel it. “I don’t know. I have no clue what I would do in your situation. What I do know is that you need to be honest with Brody about this.” She wiped her hands on her hot pink and black apron and took a step toward me.
“I know.”
“I mean it, Kacie. He’s the best thing that’s happened to you since you had those girls. You don’t want to fuck this up because you were too chicken to open your mouth.”
“I’m not a chicken; I’m just waiting for the right time. But you’re right. I’ll tell him tonight.”
“Alexa is always right—remember that.” She winked at me. “Back to the asshole. What are you going to do, seriously?”
“There’s nothing to do right now. I’m just taking it day by day.”
“Kacie, be strong. Do not let him near your heart.” A worried frown tugged at her eyebrows and twisted up her lips. “Wrap that shit in barbed wire when he’s around.”
“Lex, don’t be dramatic.” I laughed. “I’m fine.”
“Oh, really? You’re fine? I seem to remember a time awhile back, let’s see… the girls were probably about four months old. He messed up so bad that I told you if you went back to him, I’d beat the crap out of you. Remember that?” She cocked her head to the side and glared at me. “I still owe you a beating.”
I did remember. How could I ever forget that day? It was a normal Saturday morning in late November. The leaves had all fallen from the trees, matted to the ground by the pouring rain. Thanksgiving was the following week and Christmas was just around the corner. It was Lucy and Piper’s first Christmas and I was beyond excited. I knew they didn’t exactly know what was going on, and I’d promised Zach I wouldn’t go crazy, but I wanted them to have a few presents each under the tree. We’d been saving money in our trusty savings account, also known as the coffee can in the cabinet above the fridge.
Mom wanted us to come home for Thanksgiving and that was fine, but I’d also planned for us to have a mini-Thanksgiving the weekend before. I was excited to cook for Zach and the girls and spend the day just being together. Like every other Saturday morning, I let Zach sleep in, waking him for just a second to ask for the debit card. I bundled the girls up and headed out to the grocery store.
Zach and I both made minimum wage, but we made it work. Every week, we bought whatever the girls needed first—diapers, formula, and baby food—and then we stretched the rest.
Admittedly, I probably went a little overboard, but with good reason. We made our way to the checkout and I felt like I was pushing the Grinch’s overflowing sled. The cart was piled high with a small turkey, potatoes, and all the fixings to make our first Thanksgiving as a family memorable, not to mention all the regular weekly groceries and Lucy and Piper.
The teenage girl with blue streaks in her hair handed me my debit card back. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Your card was declined.”
“Wait. What?” My voice squeaked in confusion.