Patience, Grant, I thought. You need to work on your game.
Grant: Sofia!
I couldn’t stop laughing, and before I could even respond to his text, my phone blared out its ringtone, the music way too loud. I quickly silenced it before answering, hoping it didn’t disturb Matson.
“You have zero patience,” I said instead of saying hello.
“You took too long,” Grant grumbled. “And you’re right. I like talking better than typing on this stupid thing. My thumbs are too big, anyway. I always press the wrong buttons, and it has to correct it for me. Half the time it sends something that makes no sense at all. Like why would I ever tell someone to water the zoo?”
I laughed again, still not getting a single word out before he continued.
“I was thinking we could go to the bar on Thursday or Friday, your choice.”
I pondered for a second as I considered my options. Thursday would be less crowded, but Matson needed me to stick to our weekday routine. I didn’t want to mess it up any more than I have been lately.
“Friday works,” I said before I could talk myself out of it. I needed to ask my mom to watch Matson, and she’d want to know what I was up to, but it wouldn’t be a problem. Part of me hated leaving my son any more than was necessary, but I had promised Grant I’d do this, and the sooner I agreed, the sooner it wou
ld all be over. This ridiculousness could stop, and we could all move on with our lives like we’d never even met.
“Friday, it is,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at eight. That way it won’t be too crazy in that godforsaken place.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I said, but Grant cut me off.
“This is a date, Sofia. How can I make Ryan jealous if we arrive in separate cars? I’ll pick you up. Text me your address.”
He was so bossy. “Okay. I will.”
“Good night, angel. Sleep tight.”
“Good night, Grant. Don’t forget to water the zoo.”
I pressed End on the phone and convinced myself that none of this meant a damn thing. I’d go, have fun with Grant, and never think about Ryan or his ridiculously charming self again.
Sam’s Bar
Sofia
The rest of the week went by in typical fashion. There had been no more unannounced visits from Derek, and that only slightly calmed my nerves. I knew he hadn’t shown up out of nowhere for no reason, so I waited anxiously for him reappear. Thinking about what he could possibly want made me sick to my stomach every single time, so I tried to push it out of my mind.
That proved to be easier said than done, especially where my son was concerned. I’d woken up twice this week from nightmares involving him taking Matson from me in a public place. I never remembered the exact details, except Derek was there, screaming at me with Matson in his arms, and I couldn’t reach them in time.
Work was busy, as usual, and Sarin entertained herself by harassing me about my upcoming date with Grant. She called it Spyin’ on Ryan. Even though I told her I wanted nothing to do with him, she never believed me. I wouldn’t have believed me either. There must have been some subconscious reason that made me agree to go.
Friday night, I convinced my mom to watch Matson at my house so I wouldn’t have to wake him up to bring him home after being out. I figured it would be easier on him to be in his home and in his own bed. It gave me comfort too, knowing my son wouldn’t be disrupted by my unusual Friday night outing.
Most single moms needed time away from their kids. They tended to be desperate for an escape, a night out, a day away. I wasn’t sure why, but I didn’t feel that way. Maybe it was because I was away from Matson for most of the day while I worked, getting home past six and sometimes later, depending on what was going on at the office. All I knew was that I enjoyed being around Matson, and I hated being away from him. If I worked from home, however, I’d probably feel differently.
“You know if you get tired, you can always stay here. I can sleep on the foldout,” I said to my mom as she watched me getting ready in my bathroom. Matson was in the living room, eating my her famous homemade enchiladas and watching his favorite animated movie for the hundredth time.
“I’ll be fine.” She stroked my long hair, her fingers sifting through the soft curls I’d added to the length. “Your hair looks beautiful, mija.”
I grinned. “Thank you, Mom. It looks just like yours.” Staring at our reflections in my mirror, I noticed the way we resembled each other in more ways than just our highlighted hair. There was no doubt that I was Mira Richards’s daughter.
“So, tell me more about this Ryan.” Mom waggled her eyebrows at me, and I scowled.
“I told you I’m going out with Grant.”
She clucked her tongue. “Yes, but not really. It’s not a real date.”