Page 25 of Single Mom's Mountain Men
What was his moodiness about? What on earth did I do to him?
I try to pinpoint any way I could have offended him unknowingly, maybe some social cue that I missed out on.
Maybe he was mad about me cooking? He seemed not to want me to do it yesterday, but I thought that was merely out of courtesy than anything else. But maybe he’s a picky eater and doesn’t like trying out new cooks. Or maybe he’s concerned that giving me a role like this will extend my stay beyond what he intends.
Maybe “Stay as long as you like” is polite Montana-talk for “Stay as long as you need to but please get the hell out of my hair as soon as you can.”
Charlie seems like a man who likes his solitude and maybe I am infringing on it in some way that I don’t even understand.
“Ugh.” I run a hand through my hair, coming to a stop three steps from the kitchen door, and taking deep breaths.
I’m doing it again, I realize, falling back into bad patterns.
This was how I was with Keegan when I first became infatuated with him. I would treasure every smile he gave me, but I would also overthink every sigh or frown. Every time he was mad I would wonder what I could do to make it better. Every time he treated me less than pleasantly, I would internalize it, and try to figure out what I'd done wrong to trigger his anger.
My behavior helped Keegan tear down my self-worth enough for me to tolerate his bad behavior. Before I knew it, I was second-guessing every move I made and hanging onto his opinion for every damn thing. I stopped listening to my own sense of caution when it mattered.
And now I’m doing it again with a man I just met.
Thankfully, I have caught myself in the act, so I can set my mind right. I remind myself that it doesn’t matter if I did something to offend Charlie. It’s up to him to bring it up and communicate any issue he might have to me. And if he can’t do that, then that’s on him. Not on me.
I haven’t done anything wrong, and I’m not going to let Charlie ruin my day. Maybe later I’ll talk to him privately and ask if he wants me to leave. But for now, I need to go grocery shopping to get my girls something healthy for lunch.
When I walk in, Maddie is just finishing off her bacon and Katie is picking at what's left of her biscuits. I hear footsteps coming down the same hallway Charlie came from and within a second or two, Wes appears.
He runs his gaze around the room and a bright smile splits his face. “Well, hello pretty ladies. This is the kinda sight a man can get used to in the morning.”
“Hello,” my girls chorus politely.
“I’m Wes,” he says to them. “You can call me Wes, or Uncle Wes.”
“Mr. Wes?” Katie suggests and he cringes.
“Nah. That was my ninth-grade science teacher and I hated him. Hated the fact that we had the same name too.”
Katie smiles and nods.
“And your names are?”
“Katie.”
“I’m Maddie!” Maddie parrots with her usual exuberance throwing her hands in the air. “I’m four years old and Katie is six.”
“Are you? I thought you were at least five and seven.”
Katie beams and says, “I’m mature for my age.” It’s something she’s probably heard from a bunch of adults and it's clearly a point of pride for her.
“I bet you are,” Wes grins, then he turns to me. “Hey, Patty Cake.”
“Hey.” My breath hitches, even though Wes says it in a different way than Keegan used to. I mean, for one thing, there’s no underlying threat.
Still, it’s not something I like hearing.
Wes seems to get that something’s up with the name, because he says, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing it’s just… that nickname…”
“Yeah, it’s pretty corny, huh?” He mock- winces. “Sorry, I’ll try not to make that joke again." He gestures to my daughters with his chin. “Have they met my brothers yet?”
