Say It's Not Fake

And time to shut that down. Right now.

“It’s not you, Whit. I promise. It’s how I’ve chosen to handle the custody situation. They simply worry that this—” I indicated the space between us. “They worry that it’s going to blow up in my face. They’re old-fashioned. But seriously, it has absolutely nothing to do with you personally. Mom and Dad have always liked you, and they think the world of Meg.” Spontaneously, I leaned over and kissed her cheek. Actually, it was more the corner of her mouth. I could taste her cherry lip gloss.

Fuck.

I pulled back as if she had shoved me. Her eyes widened slightly, and we looked at each other in that endless way we had a habit of doing.

“Nommy! Nommy!” Katie chanted from the backseat. I looked toward the front door of my parents’ house and could see my mother standing there, her arms crossed over her chest.

Crap. How long had she been standing there?

Whitney took a deep breath. “I need to get used to the in-laws, right?”

“Right,” I agreed, feeling jangled and jittery after my stupid kiss. What had I been thinking? Then, without warning, the image of her wet, naked body filled my head.

“You coming? I think your mom’s waiting,” Whitney said, pulling me out of my dirty thoughts.

Christ, I had to get it together. I shouldn’t be thinking like that with my goddamn kid in the back seat. What was wrong with me?

We got out of the truck. Whitney unbuckled Katie from the car seat and carried her toward the house. Katie wrapped her tiny arms around Whitney’s neck. I noticed that my mother watched the two of them closely, taking in the way Katie clung to her new stepmom. And she didn’t seem too happy about it.

I had a feeling I was going to get an earful the next time I saw her alone.

“Good morning, Gail. There’s a little monkey here to see you.” Whitney kissed Katie’s cheek, and Katie did the same to Whitney. When had they started doing that? It seemed the two of them had already become genuinely attached to one another.

By my mother’s furrowed brow, it seemed she was making the same conclusion. “Well, you’d better hand her over. Monkeys need their breakfast.” Whitney tried to pass Katie to her grandmother, but my daughter wasn’t having it.

“No. No!” she yelled, burrowing her face into Whitney’s neck.

Whitney turned to me with concern. “What should I do?”

My mom patted Katie on the back. “Don't you want some of Nommy’s cinnamon rolls? I made them just for you.”

“Ohhh, cinnamon rolls! That sounds good! You should go eat some!” Whitney enthused, trying once again to hand the clinging child to my mom.

“No!” Katie screamed, hanging onto Whitney like she was drowning.

My mother looked ready to cry. Katie had never refused to go with her before. I quickly stepped in and slowly unpeeled Katie from Whitney’s neck. “Come on, Bug. It’s time to go inside. I bet Grandad will let you dig in the garden. You love digging in the garden.”

Katie lifted her head, perking up. “Dig?” she asked.

My mom nodded a little too vigorously “Of course! Grandad has a patch for you to dig in. Maybe we could plant some flowers too.”

Whitney had smartly taken a step back, extracting herself.

“Cinnamon rolls and digging sound like so much fun!” I said with a smile, bouncing Katie until she laughed.

After a few minutes, she finally let my mother take her inside. “I think we’d better get out of here,” I told Mom, not following her into the house like I normally did.

Mom nodded, glancing at Whitney, who had retreated to the truck not to set off Katie again. Whit raised her hand in a wave. “Bye, Gail.”

Mom waved but didn’t say anything; she was frowning when she turned back to me. “We’ll talk later, Kyle.”

I had no doubt we would.

“I’ll see you after work. Are you and Dad coming to the ribbon cutting at noon?” I asked her.

My dad had come out from the back of the house, and Katie was now wriggling to get down so she could run to him. “I think it depends. Dad has his annual checkup at 12:30. If Katie isn’t napping, we’ll try to make it,” she answered stiffly, obviously still smarting from her granddaughter’s rejection.

“You know how Katie can be, Mom. She takes a shine to some people. She’s a kid,” I argued quietly. Whitney had gotten back into the truck.

“I know, Kyle. Like I said, we’ll talk later. You’d better get going. Don’t keep Adam waiting.” Mom gave me her usual peck on the cheek and shooed me away.

Katie had already run to my dad, who was leading her out into the yard. “Bye, Dad. Bye Bug!” I called out.

“Bye, Son.” Dad waved, and Katie ignored me, too focused on whatever fun thing her grandfather was about to share with her.