Page 87 of One Last Time
Might as well go big since I’m toast withKristin.
“Yes,please.”
She continues to dip her hand into milk and eat cookies—a lot ofcookies.
I look at the door, hoping Kristin is doing okay with Finn and they are working through it. The way her eyes filled with pain was impossible to ignore. She looked as if someone punched her in the gut. I’ve seen that look of sheer disappointment on my mother’s face manytimes.
Each birthday when she hoped he’d call. On Christmas when we spent another year without a word. Or their anniversary that went without notice. Years that he hurt her and never gave ashit.
Then there is Finn. You can’t fake that kind of hurt, and it brought it all back for me. I was a little younger than he is now the first time I lost it. I would scream at my mother, asking what was wrong withme.
No matter how powerful love is, anger is louder and can drown out all reason. It took my mother’s constant reassurance to finally believe that it was not my issues, buthis.
Aubrey tugs on my sleeve and studies me. “Are you going to marry mymommy?”
If I was eating or drinking, I would’ve choked. “Why would you thinkthat?”
She grabs another cookie. “Daddy is marryingJillian.”
This is the absolute worst conversation I could be having. I’m definitely not the right person to talk to her. Hell, I’m feeding her cookies just to keep her happy and get her to likeme.
I try to think of a safer topic. “You know that I’m friends withEli?”
“Youare?”
“He and I are goodfriends.”
“Do you know AuntHeather?”
Inod.
“She’s the best.” Aubrey smiles. “Uncle Eli is on TV,” she tellsme.
I smile. “I know. I was on the show withhim.”
Her eyes go wide and her mouth falls open. “Youwere?”
“Yup.”
“Do you know Charlie?” sheasks.
“Umm . . .” I know a lot of people named Charlie but no six-year-old would know those. “Charlie?”
She takes another cookie and nods. “FromGood Luck Charlie. I love that show. Mommy says I can watch it if I behave. She’s the best person on TV! Do you knowher?”
I have no freaking clue what show that is. I rack my brain but come up short. However, I really want her to like me. Where’s Kristin? She’d know what I shouldsay.
“I’m sure I know someone who does,” I tellher.
She claps her handstogether.
Aubrey opens her mouth to ask something else, but Kristin and Scott’s voices stop her. They’re hushed, but I hear the crack in her voice. The front door closes, and Aubrey hops down, wipes her hands on her shirt, and swipes her arm across hermouth.
There’s no hiding the cookies, she’s literally wearing themnow.
A few seconds later, the door swingsopen.
Kristin’s eyes land on me, then the table, and then her chocolate-covereddaughter.
