I drink, smoke, and try to entertain myself by flipping through the channels on my television. It doesn’t work. All I can think about is her. I give up and reach for my phone.
Lawson: I miss you.
Ainsley: I miss you too.
Lawson: How did things go with your mom? Did you grovel enough to make her happy?
Ainsley: No, she’s still pretty upset.
Lawson: She has every right to be.
Ainsley: I know.
Lawson: I’m sure things will be better tomorrow. She still loves you.
Ainsley: She is kicking me out of the house.
Lawson: What? Seriously?
Ainsley: Yeah.
Lawson: Do you want to talk?
Ainsley: I don’t think can right now. Maybe tomorrow?
Lawson: Sure, I’m here if you need me.
That’s the end of our conversation. I want to say more, but I’m not sure anything could console her right now. I’m a parent. I understand tough love, despite never being too good at it. All I did was blow my entire world up in my face. This will be a hard lesson for Ainsley to learn, but maybe it’s what she needs. I could never say that to her. It isn’t my place. All I can do is be supportive and offer her a shoulder to lean on. I haven’t been in her life long enough to offer more than that.
Of course, that isn’t my first instinct. My first instinct is to tell her to pack a bag and drive back to my place. Open the door. Welcome her. Tell her she can stay as long as she likes. I’d be an asshole to do that, even if she would appreciate it. She made a mistake, and she has to learn from that mistake if she’s going to grow. I’ve made enough of them myself to understand how far you have to fall before you find the strength to pick yourself up. Sometimes you can’t. If there had been a few stumbles along the way, it might not have hurt so bad when rock bottom rose up to slam me in the face.
I don’t think she’s there yet. This may be what saves her from it.
Monday morning and the headache that goes with it. This time it isn’t even the alcohol; it’s the mundane reality of everyday life. I shower, drink coffee, get ready for work, and head to the fucking office. I’m early, not earlier than Joanna, who beats most of us into the building.
“Good morning, Mr. Brooks!” she greets me warmly.
“Morning.” I nod to her and keep walking to my office.
I open my door and suddenly remember that my office was obliterated on Friday night. I got so carried away that I literally forgot what I would be walking into. We cleaned it up, but there’s still a mess. I do my best to straighten up what I can, hide the stuff that’s damaged, and get everything situated right as Bram shows up at my door.
“Damn, did you decide to redecorate?” He looks around in confusion as he walks into my office.
“Yeah, something like that.” I laugh under my breath.
“I brought breakfast.” He puts a plate down in front of me that’s covered with a piece of plastic wrap. “Kiana made it, remember?”
“Right.” I nod. “Pregnancy hormones.”
“You better believe it, man.” He shakes his head and sits. “I’m surprised she made it through the Halloween party with a smile on her face. You left kind of early.”
“Parties aren’t my thing.” I shrug and unwrap my breakfast. “You know that.”
Bram and I eat breakfast while he tells stories about my daughter and all the stuff they did over the weekend to get ready for the baby. My grandchild. I’m going to be a fucking grandfather. Bouncing that around in my head makes me think I should be planning for my retirement instead of falling in love. Especially with someone as young as Ainsley. I can’t help it—I’m falling, whether I like it or not.
“Alright, man, I have to get some work done.” Bram stands and tosses the plate in the trash can, then tilts his head slightly. “You break something while you were redecorating?”
“I’m clumsy as fuck, what do you think?” I play it off as well as I can.