“Want me to help tomorrow night?”
Amanda blanches, setting her water on the table next to the couch with an incredulous laugh. “God, no. Babysitting on Halloween?” She shakes her head. “That’s a grandma’s job — not a hot, single, thirty-four-year-old’s.”
I smirk. “You think I’m hot?”
“I already told you that when you put me under,” she says, waving me off. “Not a surprise anymore.”
I chuckle, then sit on the edge of the couch, my hip brushing against her thigh. “I don’t have plans, and I’m not on call this weekend. I’d love to help.”
“Stop. You’re young. You should be going out, partying, living it up.”
“I’m not that young.”
She scoffs.
“Amanda, come on. Look at you,” I say, gesturing to her foot propped up on the pillow. “You’re not exactly very mobile right now. Just let me help. Besides, we can check off another list item.”
She arches a brow.
“Movie night, remember? We can make it a scary movie double feature.”
Amanda sighs, looking at her ankle and then back at me. “Are you sure you want to waste your holiday with a crippled grandma and a screaming baby?”
“It won’t be a waste at all,” I say sincerely. And before she can change her mind or argue further, I stand. “I’ll bring popcorn and a bag of the best Halloween candy.”
“Music to my ears,” she says.
“Do you want a glass of wine or anything before I go?” I ask, gathering my things.
“I’m fine,” she says, but I see the way she’s biting her lip, holding back something she wants to say.
I pause. “What?”
“It’s just… tomorrow, can you wait to come over until I text you?”
I frown.
“I can let you know when David and Julia leave. And you should probably go before they get back.”
She says the words sheepishly, and I swallow down the way hearing them stings.
“Is that really necessary?”
She levels her gaze then. “Do you want to be the one to tell David that his best friend is hanging out with his mom on Halloween. Alone?”
I tongue my cheek, trying to imagine how that scenario would play out.
None of the possibilities strike me as appealing.
Even though David and I aren’t what I’d call best friends anymore, we used to be. Hell, we used to be like brothers, and we’re just now getting reconnected. I try to imagine it in the reverse, imagine my mom divorced and him hanging out alone with her.
It just doesn’t feel the same, though.
With Amanda, it’s different. She’s young, funny, beautiful, and has been through more hell in her short life than anyone deserves.
Still, my mouth pulls to the side, because regardless of how I see it, to David?
Amanda is his mom — plain and simple.
“Didn’t think so,” she says on a smile. Then, a shrug, as if it’s no big deal. “It’s fine. We’ll tell him. Eventually.”
I nod, but can’t stop myself from wondering tell him what, exactly?
“Get some rest,” I say instead, tucking my wallet into my pocket.
And then with a quick smile, I force myself to leave, all the while shoving down the voice inside that’s screaming for me to stay.
AMANDA
“We won’t be too late,” Julia promises again the next night, wiping at something on Tucker’s cheek. Tucker makes a face and pushes her hand away, curling more into my arms.
“I’d prefer you be very late. Tucker will be asleep soon, anyway.”
Julia frowns, her eyes welling with tears.
“Babe, it will be fine. My mom raised me, and if she can wrangle this hellion, she can handle our angel baby for an evening,” David says, kissing Tucker’s forehead.
“But your ankle—” she tries.
“Is fine. I sprained it; I didn’t break it. And Tucker is a baby. Again, he’ll be asleep soon.”
Julia pouts, and David and I share a look as he wraps his arm around her waist to comfort her.
“Oh! By the way, I think we might have found you a car, Mom,” he says, tucking Julia into his side. “It’s a little more than insurance gave you, but—”
“David,” I warn.
He holds up his hands. “But we are happy to cover the rest, especially since it’s a great deal.”
I glare at him, that icky, familiar goop of guilt and burden slicking my gut. It’s the same thing I feel any time I think of how Josh still has to help me pay the bills here, how he will pay me alimony once the papers are signed.
It’s like being a slave.
And I’m reminded again why getting my degree is so important to me — because freedom waits for me inside that curled piece of paper with my name on it.
“Mom, please,” David pleads. “We want to help.”
“We do,” Julia says. “You’ve helped us so much throughout the years, especially when we were young and broke, and even now with Tucker. You’re the most involved out of all the grandparents.”
That warms my heart, and I boop Tucker’s nose with a smile. Then, I sigh, looking back at my son.