Page 38 of Cougar

“He’s doing wonderful. He graduated last summer summa cum laude and took a job with Merrill Lynch. He’s living with his girlfriend in St. Petersburg.”

“You should be proud of yourself, Lisa. Jay will be eighteen in two months and she’s going on tour next year. I hope I don’t fuck up this single mom gig.”

“You won’t. You have an amazing family, Emerson, and we’re all here for you.”

Lisa and I spend the next two hours catching up and making plans to have dinner next week.

On the way to the car, Jay’s attention is snagged by the thumping of bass coming from the building next door. “Juliette’s Dance Studio” is scrolled in gold across the dark tinted bay window.

“Can we go in there?”

I had considered trying to get her on the cheer team but honestly, my girl isn’t coordinated or patient enough for cheer. Her talent is in her mind and her fingertips, but a dance class would be a nice extracurricular activity. Something normal.

“Sure. Let’s check it out.”

Walking inside, we’re greeted by a middle-aged woman sitting behind a counter.

“Welcome, ladies. I’m Trina.”

She shows us to the waiting room, which consists of a couple of sofas and a one-way mirror. “Juliette is in the middle of teaching a pole-dancing class.”

There’s a group of about six barefoot women dressed in sports bras and spandex shorts. Each is standing beside a pole, mimicking the demonstration led by a tall, beautiful woman who is dressed similarly, her blonde hair pulled into a messy bun on top of her head.

“Oh that looks like fun. Can I sign up?”

I jerk my head to the side to see Jay’s eyes sparkling with excitement. “Absolutely not.”

Twenty minutes later, the class ends and Juliette comes out and introduces herself. If I had to guess her accent, I’d say Russian. She’s super sweet and suggests Jay try out the hip-hop classes on Wednesday evenings.

“Why wouldn’t you let me take the pole dance class?” Jay asks once we’re back in the car and heading to Mac’s for lunch with the family. “It’s just a dance class.”

“You’re lucky I even agreed to the hip-hop class.”

“Why? I’ve seen the way you dance, hoochie mama.”

I laugh and wave her off. “Oh be quiet.”

* * *

Max once referred to his restaurant as an upscale sports bar, so when I walk into Mac’s for the first time, I’m expecting memorabilia plastered all over the walls and peanut shells on the floor. But it’s nothing of the sort. It’s open and airy, and the décor gives it an island feel. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the water, with tropical fans hanging from the high ceilings. The floors are a shiny polished marble, the walls are light, and the doors are a heavy wood with palm leaves carved into them. A circular hostess stand, made of the same carved wood, is positioned in the center of the room, and behind it are two sweeping staircases leading to a second level. The place is extremely upscale.

A young girl about Jay’s age with a gorgeous shade of red hair approaches our table with a pad and a pen. She’s wearing khaki cuffed shorts and a black three-button polo with “Mac’s” embroidered in red on the left side. Her hair is pulled back into a messy bun, showcasing her bright green eyes.

“Harper,” Max says, gesturing to me. “This is my little sister, Emerson, my niece, Jayla, and this handsome sonofa—”

“Language,” Jessica warns. Her eyes cut over to Willow, who’s perched on Jay’s lap.

“—gun is Bass,” Max finishes.

Harper smiles. “It’s great to finally meet you.”

After lunch, Jay and I swing by to pick up her uniforms, then spend the rest of the afternoon shopping.

Nothing like a little retail therapy between mother and daughter. It was a good day.

* * *

Cam

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