“Thank you,” I say to the deliveryman as he hands me my food. “Every day, Elijah. It’s how I pay my bills.” I keep my back to him as I head toward the door, hoping he’s passing by. But that wouldn’t be my luck.
“I find that mildly disturbing.”
“What do you want, Elijah?”
“I’ve come to visit Lucy.”
I roll my eyes and jostle my food in order to press the Up button on the elevator. “Don’t you think spending Christmas with her was enough?”
“On the contrary. We’ve extended our stay in Boston and would love to have Lucy join us for New Year’s Eve. She really needs to get to know Renee and the children.”
Once again I roll my eyes but know that I can’t do anything about it. I know I have to let him see her, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it or let him take her places. This needs to be done in baby steps, especially since she’s really not fond of him. Not that I can blame her. I must’ve been totally blinded by the fact that he was my professor to not see that he’s a pompous ass.
He follows me in, uninvited, and takes off his coat. “Where’s Lucy?”
“At my mother’s,” I tell him as I pull out a fork and dig into my lo mien. I’m starving and have a headache from the lack of caffeine. I look at the clock and realize that today’s events have taken up most of the day. I’m slightly annoyed, but there isn’t anything I can do about it.
“And when might I expect her?”
I shrug, pissing him off.
“You know,” I say, pointing at him with my fork, “you weren’t like this when we were dating.”
“Like what?”
“Stuffy, like you have a rod stuck up your ass. You were fun; you made me laugh.”
“Maybe you were different and I’m not the one who has changed.”
He’s right—maybe I was. I know for a fact that I was more willing to give my heart away before I met Elijah. I didn’t see the world as a jaded place, but something I wanted to explore. Before I can give him another witty response, Lucy swings the door open and cheerily enters until she sees Elijah. My mom’s eyes widen in surprise when she sees him standing there. I shrug and make quick work of my food. After Christmas morning, I had told my mother that I hoped he’d get the hint and leave, but apparently Lucy didn’t make it obvious enough that she doesn’t like him, because he’s still lingering in town. Frankly, the sooner he’s gone, the better.
“I’ll call you later,” I tell my mom as she kisses a very-reluctant-to-stay Lucy goodbye. I don’t blame her. If I could leave, I would. As much as I love my apartment, this is the last place I want to be right now. My always-comfortable home feels like a giant eggshell waiting to crack.
“Lucy, would you like to sit and talk?”
I try not to laugh when Elijah asks her this. Five-year-olds rarely want to sit and talk to adults, unless it’s about the newest Disney movie coming out or what toy is their newest obsession. On a good day, I can get Lucy to tell me about her day at school, but since she spent her day with my mother, I doubt she has much to say, especially to Elijah.
“I wanna watch TV,” she says with the most exaggerated sigh I have ever witnessed. I stuff my mouth full of food to keep from laughing. Sure enough, though, Elijah sits down next to her. I hate giving him credit, but at least it’s an effort.
I decide to stay in the kitchen so I can watch them interact with each other. This is the perfect time for Elijah to show me that he can be a father. When Lucy tells Elijah that she’s thirsty, he gets up to get her a drink. When she’s bored with her current show, he offers to find her something different to watch, even if he briefly stops on CNN to catch the latest headlines. As I look at them, I can’t help but miss Travis. I’d much rather have him on my couch than Elijah, and I know Lucy would, too. Knowing that he can never be here again makes me despise Elijah.
As the night continues, I grow more and more tired of staying in the kitchen, but I refuse to join them in the living room. The last thing I want is for Elijah to think he’s welcome or for him to feel like I accept what’s going on. He can think I’m a coldhearted bitch for all I care—at least he’d know his place in my life.
The knocking on my door has me glancing at the clock and then to Elijah, who is starting to stand. If it were my mother, she’d let herself in after
knocking.
I open the door, startled to find a slightly drunk Travis leaning against the doorjamb. I angle my body between the partially closed door and the outside, hoping to keep Elijah’s prying eyes away from Travis. When he reaches for me, I have no choice but to step back.
“Why, Saylor?”
“Please don’t do this, Travis,” I whisper.
“Saylor, who’s here?” Elijah says. I close my eyes and shake my head slightly. I can feel Travis’s hand as it whizzes by my face. He pushes the door open with a ton of force, slamming it against my wall.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Travis, please—you’re drunk. We can talk about this tomorrow,” I implore him as I pull on his arm, trying to get him out of my house.