Birthday Girl

Cole talks again, and I don’t think Pike is breathing.

“Cole, I—”

Cole cuts him off and Pike is still as he listens.

“No, I don’t think that’s a good—”

He’s cut off again as Cole speaks.

After a moment, I see him heave a breath and nod. “Yeah,” he says. “Ok…yeah. Fine. See you tomorrow.”

He hangs up the phone and tosses it on the bed, falling onto his back and rubbing his hands up and down his face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“You mean more than being on the phone with my son while his ex-girlfriend is naked in bed next to me?”

I frown.

He tips his head back and eyes me. “We’ve got a bigger problem than that, actually. Brace yourself.”

Pike

“I put sheets and blankets on the couch,” I say, walking into the kitchen. “Fridge is full. Make yourself at home.”

Cole and his mother follow me in, the front door closing and anything but hospitality pouring out of my voice. Cole is more than welcome, but I’d love to put her in a hotel if I could.

He’s giving me a guilt trip, though.

“I’m not sleeping on the couch,” Lindsay informs me, plopping her purse on my counter. “I need privacy. I’m a grown woman.”

Jordan trails in behind them quietly, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame. Her eyes are downcast, and I don’t think she’s looked at me since last night when Cole called. I had to work today, and she took the day shift at the bar, and between her moving all of her toiletries back into her own bathroom and being holed up in her room doing who-knows-what tonight and me putting the finishing touches on her car, we haven’t said much. I guess I don’t know what to say any more than she does.

I look at Lindsay, her thick red lipstick matching the red lace bra peeking out of her black silk top, and for about five minutes twenty years ago I thought she was hot and confident. Now, it’s not attractive at all, because I know what’s inside.

Hopefully, I only have to put up with her for a night or two. Cole had moved back with her the past couple days, but they’re replacing the storm windows in her apartment, so they needed somewhere to stay while the workers finish.

“You can have all the privacy you want at a hotel,” I remind her. “I offered to pay.”

“Dad, come on,” Cole mumbles, walking to the fridge for a soda.

He glances at Jordan, but she’s not meeting anyone’s eyes.

The room turns silent, and it’s so uncomfortable.

I clear my throat. “Well, unless you want to share a room with Cole,” I tell Lindsay, “there’s nowhere else, except the basement.”

“What about the spare room?” she shoots back.

“That’s Jordan’s room.”

“Jordan shouldn’t even be living here,” she says, almost a hiss. And then she turns to Jordan. “Can you please share a room with my son for a couple nights, so I can have the spare room?”

“It’s not a spare room anymore,” I bite out, my heart suddenly thumping. “It’s her room.”

There’s no fucking way…

“This is ridiculous.” Lindsay glares at me. “I’m the mother of your son, and I need a room.” She glances at Jordan again. “You’ve spent plenty of time in a bed with Cole. Another night or two won’t kill you, right?”