“Mommy, your phone is talking to you.” My daughter pokes me as I carry her into the apartment.
“I know it is, baby.” The darn thing has been going off since I pulled out of the parking lot at Nick and Charlie’s place.
“Is it Unca Nick?”
Lord love a duck. My girl has already fallen for Nick Jackson. What a disaster. “It’s probably Charlie.”
“I like her.”
“She likes you.” Everyone does, but the dirty rotten snake.
“That other man is a bad man. We should stay away. We won’t walk with strangers. We won’t talk with strangers. We stay away from strangers. Stranger danger!” Cass warbles.
Out of the mouth of babes, I think, and set her down on the carpet. “Can you color a bit while I check my messages?”
“Mhmm,” my sweet girl hums. She digs out her coloring supplies and spreads out on the coffee table. The book falls open to the page that she and Nick were working on. I’ll give him credit. He’s far more patient with her than I ever imagined he could be. At one time, I might’ve allowed myself to spin a few fantasies about a life as Mrs. Nick Jackson. If I hadn’t met Chip. that is.
I pull out my phone and scan the messages. I read Charlie’s first.
Charlie: I’m so sorry for tonight! I didn’t know he was coming. Call me.
Charlie: I’m sorry!
Charlie: I hope everything is okay.
Charlie: We love you.
I send off a quick reply. We’re okay. It’s no big deal.
Which is a lie. It’s a very big deal. I want to run away right now, although I’m not sure where I’d go. Momma’s still up to her neck caring for grandma, and even if she wasn’t, I can’t expose Cass to such an unwelcoming environment. I suppose I could go back to San Antonio. The thought makes me sick. We were building such a good life here. I earned more working for Charlie than I’d ever imagined possible, plus, the work felt good—like I was doing something worthwhile, something Cass would be proud of when she got older.
But I can’t stay. Not with Chip breathing down my shoulder. I was so naïve before, thinking Chip wouldn’t come back to Dallas because he’d be too embarrassed after being traded away. Of course, he’d come back. He was a Texas native. They always come home.
My phone buzzes in my hands again. I flick the screen open and see the unread text from Nick. I don’t want to read it. Nick’s part of this unrealistic fantasy I concocted for myself. For a moment there, I allowed myself to conjure up a whole future where we’d go to the park every week. I’d sit in the stands wearing his uniform number. Cass would grow up with a daddy who’d color with her and wear her homemade daisy crowns.
Only a dumb girl would dream those dreams. I shut those out, leave the message unread, and go to my daughter. Cass beams at me when I settle beside her.
“Here you go, Mommy. You can color this page. Isn’t it pretty? Unca Nick did this.”
“It’s real nice, honey. You remember when Mommy worked down by the river? You liked it there.”
“Uh huh.”
“Mrs. Garrison babysat you at night. She had a lot of fun games, didn’t she?”
Cass wrinkles her nose. “She smelled bad. I like the way Unca Nick smells.”
Who doesn’t like how he smells? “Maybe I’ll buy Mrs. Garrison a bottle of Nick’s cologne.”
“I like Unca Nick’s hugs better. Plus, he’ll take me to the playground. Mrs. Garrison’s too old for that. She says her joints are shot.”
“Honey, we might have to give up Unca Nick and go see Mrs. Garrison again.”
Case sets down her crayon and glares at me. “Mommy. I’ve got to feed the fish. If I don’t go over and feed them, they’ll die. Don’t you know anything?”
“Nick can feed his own fish.”
“They’re not his fish. They’re mine. He gave them to me. He said I could name them. I have to feed them!” Cass’s voice is getting dangerously high.
“I swear to you that Nick will feed the fish and they will not die.”
“You don’t know that.” Cass jumps up. “You’re going to kill my fish. Don’t kill my fish, Mommy. Promise me you won’t kill my fish!”
“Baby, no one’s killing your fish. I’m just saying—”
“You said I didn’t do anything bad! You said I didn’t ‘barass you!” she wails.
“You didn’t, honey. You didn’t do anything bad or wrong. You were perfect.” I reach out and try to wipe her tears away, but she jerks out of my grip and runs off into her bedroom.
This is going about as bad as I expected. I drag a hand over my face. Maybe if I return Chip’s money, he’ll back off. I’ve spent some of it, but most of it is still in a savings account. How do I go about contacting him, though? I deleted his contact information two years ago. I could call his mom, which would be super awkward, but even worse would be hanging around the Mustang facility like a jockey junkie. I’ll have to wait until Chip comes into Stacks again and hope he doesn’t follow through on his threats when he sees me.