His eyebrows shoot up and he sprints toward the house to get his book of sheet music and drum sticks.
“Get that Toyota ready before I’m back, you hear?” I ask.
Taylor grumbles. “Will do.”
I start up the truck and watch as Roman scrambles out, trying to throw on a shirt with one handed while he clutches the drumsticks and book in the other. I help him get his shirt on and then get him strapped into his carseat.
“Daddy,” says Roman when we’ve been driving for a little while.
“What’s up, Bud?” I ask.
“Do you like Sandra?”
“No,” I say.
He makes a thoughtful sound, and like a little psychologist, kills me with his silence.
“A little,” I admit.
“I like her too,” he says quickly. “She’s pretty.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I won’t tell Lyla you were checking out another woman if you don’t tell Sandra I like her.”
Roman takes a second to think over the terms of our agreement. “Okay,” he says. “If you like her, will she be my mommy too?”
“Uh,” I say. “I don’t think it’s going to happen, but if Miss Sandra and I like each other a lot then yeah, she’d be your mommy too.”
He makes another thoughtful sound and then falls silent.
I’m closing up the garage a few days later when I hear raised voices from next door. I had to drop Roman off with Tara for the weekend already, so I decide to head over toward the sound. It’s coming from Sandra’s house, and I recognize one of the voices as hers. When I step up to the front porch I see a man’s figure. He’s gesturing and shouting something I can’t make out. When I hear the word “bitch” come from his mouth though, my blood boils.
I swing the door open and both Sandra and the guy fall silent. The guy is relatively thin. I take him in with one quick glance. Gelled hair combed back, proud features, narrow shoulders, a polo, and jeans rolled up to show boat shoes with no socks. I smirk. He has rich asshole written all over him. Judging from his thin arms, he hasn’t ever spent an honest day working, either.
“Who the fuck are you?” he asks me.
“David,” says Sandra warningly. “Don’t.”
“David?” I ask. I purse my lips. “I’m Sandra’s neighbor, and your shouting was disturbing me.”
He rolls his eyes, flashing white teeth. “Yeah? Well that’s too bad, buddy. I’m sure you probably have to get up and head to the office early tomorrow morning, right?” he asks, gesturing at my oil-stained shirt.
I extend my arm. It thuds into his chest and knocks him back. Anger flashes in his features and he purses his lips, looking like a petulant child who just had his toy snatched away. “That’s assault,” he says.
“You want to see assault?” I ask, advancing on him. “Try raising your voice to Sandra again. Then you’ll see what real assault looks like.”
He glares at me. “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?”
“David,” I say. “Rich, self-important, scrawny asshole. Did I miss anything?”
“Guys,” says Sandra carefully. “Really--”
“Yeah,” interrupts David. “You missed my family name. David Cumberfield. Yes. The Cumberfields.”
I give him a blank look. “Fields of cum, okay. Got it.”
His face turns red so quickly that I laugh.
“Did I strike a nerve there, cum fields?”
“Mongoloid,” he growls.
I look to Sandra. “Please tell me this guy isn’t an ex or something.”
She rubs the back of her neck. “He’s an ex.”
“I don’t have to be,” he says to her, forgetting his anger at me for a moment.”
“Why don’t you get lost?” I ask, stepping between David and Sandra.
“Will you tell this barbarian to leave?” David asks Sandra.
“Yeah,” I say. “Why don’t you, Sandra? Tell me to leave.”
She looks between us, eyes slightly wide with panic.
“Oh, that’s right. She’s not asking me to leave because she’s fucking me now,” I say.
Sandra opens her mouth to speak, but I silence her with a glare.
“You… Really?” asks David in disbelief. “Alfred and Collette were right. Moving out here was a mistake. People like you and I can’t mingle with people like him.”
I’m surprised by how much that stings. Whether David is a worthless shit or not, I can’t help feeling some of the truth in his words. She is from a different world than me. It’s a world of careless living, idle play, and excess. My life couldn’t be any farther from that. Even if she was carrying my baby, what makes me think she would want me to play any part in it’s life?
I lick my lips, looking to Sandra, who can’t meet my eye. “Message heard. Loud and clear,” I say.
I turn to leave, fists clenched. I pause at the doorway.
“Did you forget how to--” starts David.
His words cut short when I turn and fire my fist into his mouth. His teeth cut my knuckles, but I find comfort knowing it hurts him more than it hurts me. His head kicks back and his legs crumple beneath him. He puts a hand slowly to his mouth, looking at the blood on his fingers.
“You chipped my tooth,” he says.
Sure enough, I see the half-circle missing from the bottom of one of his front teeth.
“Buy a fucking new one, Cum Fields,” I growl.
10
Sandra
“David’s back?” asks Jennifer.
I flip a piece of popcorn in my mouth, nodding grimly. We’re both sitting on the floor in front of my couch. We’re a few episodes into a Gilmore Girls marathon.
“I thought you said he got the message loud and clear when you broke up last summer?”
“I thought he did.”
“So,” asks Jennifer. “Are you interested?”
I sigh, leaning my head back against the couch. “I’m going to tell you something you can’t tell Lauren, okay?”
Jennifer nods. “Okay… Are you going to tell her eventually, though?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’m just afraid she’ll go and try to kill Mark if I tell her.”
“Mark? Wait. What?”
I tell her everything I know so far about Mark’s plans to buy out my shop and tear it to the ground.
When I’ve finished, Jennifer looks down at her hands, frowning. “Can they really do that?” she asks.
“Apparently,” I say. “And the only way I have to stop them is to come up with an impossible amount of money. David could come up with that kind of money in a heartbeat, and so could my parents. I hate myself for it, but I can’t do that.” I realize how this must sound to Jennifer. She’s going to lose her job because I’m too proud to go to my parents or David for money. Still, I know I couldn’t live with myself if I did. Even if I let David bail me out, it would be like signing a deal with the preppy devil.
“Well… You’ll figure it out. I know you will.”
I nod, thinking about the possibility that I could also be mixing a pregnancy into this whole mess, too.
“What does David want, anyway?” asks Jennifer.
“He wants to get back together. Maybe my parents put him up to it or something. Who knows.”