Chapter 20
Allie
With the breeze ruffling his dark curls, Ben rushes up the ladder on the slide for about the fiftieth time, and for about the fiftieth time I yell, “Slow down!”
He grins at me but at least climbs slower.
“Kid has a shit grin,” Holly says, sitting next to me on the bench. She tightens the hood around her head. Dressed like a bum in sweats for a Sunday afternoon in the park and dealing with a hangover from hell, she doesn’t want anyone to see her. “Reminds me of—”
“Don’t say it,” I warn.
She pulls her hood tighter around her head. “I was going to say you. Not asshole Trevor.”
“Oh, since when do I have a sh—crap grin?”
“Used to before you became so freaking serious about everything.” She opens the box between us and takes out a doughnut with thick pink frosting.
Irritated by her comment, I blurt, “I had a date with Justin last night.”
The pink pastry pauses inches from her lips. “You’re shitting me.”
“Nope. I made him dinner. We went for a walk. We did dishes together.”
“Oh really?” She lets out a loud snicker. “Did you hold hands too?”
“Quit. Things did get a little heavy at one point.”
“What?” She sits back, her lips twisting. “You sat on the couch and sucked face like teenagers?”
I snatch the doughnut from her hand.
“Hey!”
I take a big bite, and through a mouthful of sugar I say, “I actually, embarrassingly, had a lovely orgasm in our kitchen.”
She pulls back, eyebrows raised. “From sucking face?”
“Shut up.” I toss the rest of the doughnut at her but she misses catching it by a mile.
She snatches the pink mess from the ground and picks pieces of grass from the frosting. “Went on a walk, huh?”
I shrug. “It was nice. We talked about Ben, his music, and my parents. His parents sound like rich jerks, but he isn’t.” Ben rounds the slide again.
Holly flicks a pebble off the doughnut.
Frowning at the pink disaster, I say, “Why don’t you get a different one?”
I get the infamous Holly “duh” look. “Because this one is pink.” She nibbles at the pastry, then says, “He sounds like he’s really into you, Al.”
My fingers flip open the box. “Yeah, I’m starting to worry about that.” What I don’t say aloud is that I’m worried about how my feelings for him are growing too.
“Why?”
I snag a cinnamon twist. “Everyone tells me I need to date. Everyone tells me to get out and have fun. And Justin is fun. But he’s not someone for the future.”
She sighs dramatically. “Just have fun. Justin’s a big boy. Quit worrying about everyone else and worry about your—no, scratch that. Just have fun. No worries. You’re twenty-two not frigging thirty.” She pops the rest of the pink mess into her mouth.
“Twenty-two and a mother.” I sigh and toss the twist back into the box. “I don’t know. Guess I’m worried about things turning serious.”
“News flash.” Holly waves her hand in front of my face. “You’re not getting married. You’re not even in serious territory. You’re having fun.” She leans back. “Geez. I swear sometimes it’s like Trevor sucked all the life out of you.”
“Well, I’m seeing Justin again on Tuesday. To have fun,” I say, jabbing her with an elbow. “We’re meeting for coffee, okay? I’m not running away like normal.”
“Coffee? How romantic,” she says sarcastically.
“It’s a bit hard to plan whirlwind dates when I have a child to take care of.”
Holly flicks a wrist. “Go out. I’ll watch the little terror.”
“Thanks, but between school and work, I don’t feel like I’m home enough.”
“Oh, Allie, you’re the best mom ever.” She grabs my hand and squeezes it. “If anyone deserves some fun, it’s you.”
I squeeze her hand back. “I thought Trevor was fun, Holly, but look where that got me.” I glance at my son climbing the slide steps. “Though I wouldn’t trade Ben for all the pain in the world.”
“Forget about Trevor. He’s the past. And he’s an asshole.” She forces my hand open and shoves the cinnamon twist into it. “You’re going to start living, dammit.” She stands and hauls a bag of old bread out of her hoodie pocket. “Come on, Ben! Let’s go feed the ducks!”
Nibbling on the delicious sugary twist, I grab the doughnut box and follow them to the mucky pond across a stone bridge covered in goose crap. We throw bread at the ducks floating in the mud-colored water and are soon surrounded by birds squawking at us for food. Holly starts backing away in terror, which sends Ben and me into a fit of giggles. She throws the bag of bread at us and we finish feeding the ducks, still laughing, while Holly retreats to a bench behind us.
The walk back to our apartment complex is along a trail that used to be railroad tracks, and it takes about twenty minutes. Ben rides circles around us while Holly whines about the killer ducks. Unfortunately, when we get to the front of our building, Trevor is there, waiting and leaning on Jazz’s car. She’s driven the same stupid Trans Am since high school. Good thing the skank isn’t in sight.
Of course, Ben yells, “Daddy!” He drops his bike and runs over to Trevor.
“Hey,” Trevor says, messing Ben’s curls.
“What’s with the car?” Holly asks.
He glances at her dismissively. “Mine’s in the shop.” His gaze roams over me. “Thought we could all go out for ice cream.”
I frown at the car as I imagine how many times he and Jazz have had sex in it. “I’m not getting in that.”
He shrugs. “We can take yours.”
“I have homework to do, but I’m sure Ben would love to go out for ice cream.”
His smile fades. “I want to take both of you.”
“Yeah, Mom, you should come with us,” Ben says from Trevor’s side.
Bending to pick up the bike Ben left on the sidewalk, I say, “Sorry, have to paint. Holly’s supposed to pose for me tonight.”
Holly nods vigorously and strikes a pose with her hand on her hip, fluttering her lashes.
Trevor ignores her. “Then maybe we can bring back dinner instead. Pizza?”
Ben nods yes and I don’t have the heart to say no. “Okay, but remember it’s a school night.”
Trevor opens the door for Ben. “Oh, we’ll be back soon.”
He starts the engine and I wave to them with my free hand. Through a fake smile, I ask Holly, “You can go to Jake’s later right? And stay for pizza?” I need a Trevor buffer big time.
She frowns. “What? I hate that asshole.”
“Half off on your next tattoo?”
She grins. “You bet your sweet ass I’m staying for dinner.”