The Player Next Door

Cody studies a chicken wing before tossing it back onto his plate. His shoulders are slumped.

“You okay?” I ask softly.

He nods but after a moment says, “They’ve been fighting a lot.”

“They have?” I ask, keeping my voice light.

“Almost every time my dad drops me off. And I hear them on the phone too.”

I school my expression. Shane didn’t tell me they were still fighting.

“I just don’t get why she’s so mad.”

There are so many answers I could give right now—would love to give—that would be accurate but also wrong. How the hell do I navigate this without being dismissive?

Honesty, I guess. “That’s one of those topics you have to talk about with your dad. I can’t say much.”

“Because you’re my teacher?”

“Yeah. And your dad’s girlfriend.” I can’t speak disparagingly about his mother, even though she’s a raging bitch who deserves it.

He nods slowly, as if he gets it. He searches out his grandparents, who are thankfully sitting on the other side of the restaurant. “My grandma’s mad too, isn’t she?”

“Seems like it.”

“I don’t really like going over there after school,” he admits quietly, picking at another chicken wing. “She’s always mad at him.”

And maybe Peter Rhodes deserves her lingering bitterness, for his part in the affair. But why take him back, then? Why give him a chance to redeem himself if you have no intention of ever forgiving him? Wouldn’t it have been better for all involved if they’d gone their separate ways?

I’m beginning to think it might have been better for Penelope to not be brought up in a household where resentment and mistrust loitered. If an eleven-year-old boy is still sensing the residual anger, eighteen years after the act … Why stay? And why would Melissa bring her child up in that environment?

Shane told me that Penelope claimed she cheated on Shane because she wanted his attention, because she felt him slipping away. Is that what she learned about relationships from watching her parents’ marriage debacle take shape? That to keep a stronger hold of your loved ones, you need to inflict pain to remind them you’re there? That you can hurt them and they’ll stay?

I don’t know what to think of the Rhodes family dynamic, but it seems I’m now tied to it, whether I like it or not.

My phone is ringing inside my purse. I check it quickly to see that it’s Justine and then set it on “silent.” I’ll fill her in on this shitshow tomorrow. “You have to eat, Cody, or you’ll be starving, and there’s not much in your dad’s cupboards.”

“Or I can just take these home and heat them up later,” he counters.

“Yeah, I guess that’s another option.” I pick at my Cobb salad, not overly hungry either.

I steal a glance over my shoulder. Sure enough, Travis is settled in next to my mother, showing not the slightest interest in any responsibility over his girlfriend’s son. Mom has tipped her head back to laugh about something, and the smile on Travis’s face is wide and genuine. Though this is only my third time seeing him, I know I haven’t seen him smile like that before.

It’s in direct proportion to the scowl that tightens Melissa’s face as she watches their interaction. Perhaps the Rhodes women do have a valid case against the Reed women out for their men.

“I like your mom. She’s nice,” Cody says. “And funny.”

“She can be.” Especially when she’s three chardonnays into the night, and didn’t make your childhood a living hell.

Fifteen minutes later, our food is officially cold and there is still no sign of Shane or Penelope.

Cody squirms in the booth, his glances over his shoulder to the window frequent. “Where’s my dad? Why are they taking so long?”

I search the dark beyond the glass for any hint of Shane and Penelope, but I see none. “I don’t know. They should be back soon, though.” Assuming she hasn’t shanked him in a fit of rage.

From the corner of my eye, I see Melissa Rhodes slide out from her booth. I assume she’s heading for the restroom until she veers toward our table. I stifle my resigned sigh.

She smiles extra wide at her grandson. “Cody, why don’t you come and join your grandfather and me for dinner?” Her voice is saccharine.

“But my dad told me to stay with Scarlet.”

“Yes, well, they’re taking longer than he expected. Maybe you can rejoin him when he returns.” She enunciates each word, and I don’t miss the “maybe” in there. As in, it isn’t a guarantee that Cody will be entrusted to his father’s care again after they’ve discovered him cavorting with heathens.

And here I thought Penelope was a hateful woman.

Cody’s gaze darts to mine, and I see his silent plea for help.

My chest swells even as my gut clenches.

Here we go. Conflict of interest fully engaged. “We’re good. Shane should be back shortly.” And my guess is he won’t appreciate his wishes being trumped by this sour-faced woman, even if she is Cody’s grandmother.