“Yeah, but you’re biased. I’d rather look a little less ratty when I go inside.”
“Because of the mean moms?”
My jaw drops. “What are you talking about, Lil?”
She only shrugs and goes back to singing to Buddy. He’s heard the entire soundtrack of Lady and the Tramp. I don’t force her to elaborate. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times, little kids notice everything.
I’m at the drive, the moment of truth, and Lillie looks out the window. “Please, Mommy?”
Our eyes meet in the mirror, and I swear my heart stops beating.
Lillie looks down, “I mean—”
“Sure!” Affection tugs at my chest, and I think I might cry. “We can take Buddy to meet Ms. Terry.”
I steer the car into the parking lot and help them both out of the backseat. Lillie holds my hand, swinging it as she skips, and Buddy rides happily tucked under her arm.
When we get to the door, I catch a glimpse of myself in the window and cringe. I don’t look terrible, but I definitely look like I just rolled out of bed less than an hour ago.
“Oh, well.” I exhale, squaring my shoulders. “Everybody has those days.”
I pull the door open, and I see the Bitch Patrol in their little Gucci cluster gossiping outside Terry’s door, likely judging every parent who drops off his or her kid. I don’t care.
Fixing my eyes on the door, I walk with purpose to Lillie’s class while she continues skipping, clutching Buddy to her side. The closer we get, the tighter the knot grows in my throat.
Their conversation fades to silence, and I brace myself for Serena’s slicing remark. “Well, look who it is.” The sneer in her voice tenses my shoulders. “Late night at the office?”
Somebody fakes a laugh, but Terry steps out at that moment.
Lillie goes nuts, talking fast. “Ms. Terry! This is Buddy. He’s a Schnoodle. He lives at Ruby’s house, but she said he really belongs to me. I’m teaching him to do tricks, and it’s really important to take him out after he sleeps because he can’t pee in the house or Ruby goes, ‘Oh no! Oh no!’”
She waves one hand over her head, dancing in place like I can only assume I did.
One time.
When Buddy started pooping on my favorite rug.
Her teacher is delighted, holding up both hands and laughing at Lillie’s performance. I put my hand on my hip and grin. “Nice way to say thanks, Lil bean.”
She’s still dancing around when her expression changes, and she yells out, “Daddy!”
This time my heart really does stop in my chest. Turning, I see Rem
i striding up the hall in our direction looking hot as ever. He’s only in jeans, a maroon tee, and dark gray blazer, but he seriously rocks the casual look.
“Perfect.” I reach up and touch the mess that is my hair wishing the ground really did things like open up and swallow people. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see my favorite girls.” He gives me that signature grin, and I forget to care what I look like as I melt into a puddle.
Stopping beside me, he puts a hand on my lower back, pulling me against his side.
My body is hot all over, but I try to be cool. I’m acutely aware of the Bitch Patrol glaring daggers in our direction.
“What was the emergency errand? Nothing on fire, I hope.”
He nods at Lillie and she hops over, taking his hand and looking up at me. “I had to pick something up at the store.”
He releases me, scooping Lillie into his arms. “Ruby, I know you said we needed time—”