Page 84 of Mister Mom

Carver’s deep, annoyed breathing sounds from behind me.

“He had to leave.”

“I’m here, buddy.” Carver comes right next to me, squatting in front of Payne.

Payne’s gaze bounces to him and then back to me. “Can I watch television?”

I nod. “Sure.”

“Hey, buddy. Do you want to go to the zoo tomorrow?” Carver asks him.

Payne shrugs his shoulders, grabbing a blanket and crawling up on the couch.

“Buddy?” Carver tries again, but he ignores him and heads into the family room.

“Why don’t you try calling him Payne?” I down a gulp of wine. “You do know his name still, right?”

Carver shakes his head. “You’re a lost cause.”

“No, Carver, you are. Get in there and watch television with him. Talk about the show. Talk about his favorite superheroes. Just try to have a relationship with him. If you’d already had a good one then Vance would have never felt like a threat to you.” I grab the bottle and my glass and poke my head into the family room. “Sweetie, Mommy is going to go upstairs. Your dad is going to get you ready for bed tonight, okay?”

Payne’s eyes widen, but when Carver turns his way, he looks back toward the television.

He needs his dad no matter what he thinks right now.

“Go be a father,” I say and leave the room.

After I’ve changed into something cozy, locked the door, and hunkered down under the covers I let the tears come.

How could Vance have lied to me for so long? Why didn’t he tell me who he was? I remember how excited I was to be given a role on one of TV’s hit shows. To get a call a couple of days before filming started left me devastated.

I wipe the tears from my face and try to ignore the phone that lies beside me on the bed, but it’s like a piece of chocolate cake late at night. It’s calling my name. After much debate, I grab it and look at Vance’s message.

Vance: I’m sorry, please let me explain.

Me: Was it your decision to not give me that part?

The three dots appear.

The three dots disappear.

The three dots appear again.

Vance: Yes, but there’s more to it.

I sit there for a few minutes going back and forth about whether to let him explain himself. Then I realize maybe for me to truly put it behind me, I need to hear him out. I’m over taking whatever shit the man in my life wants to dish out. Besides, I have a few choice words for him, too.

Me: Meet me at Cup of Joe at nine o’clock tomorrow. Half hour. That’s it.

Vance: I’ll be there.

There’s no explanation for what happened that will appease me. The only thing I want to know is if he thinks I’m not good enough to be in this film either.

* * *

Cup of Joe is busy, thankfully, because then I know I won’t make a scene. The problem is there are paparazzi outside, so Vance’s identity will be out before lunch. I’ll have to count on someone else’s fuck-up to let me fade into obscurity and off the front page again.

Vance is already in the corner booth with two coffees in front of him.

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