Page 89 of Whenever You Call

I decided to leave her to her own thoughts instead of pressing her to open up to me. I saw so much of her father in her that I sometimes forgot she was made up of me, too. When I had too much going on in my head, I shut the world out with the best of them, so I had no business demanding anything different from my daughter, especially when we traveled on roads unfamiliar to her.

It took thirty minutes for her to eventually speak.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, bug?”

“Did you stop being friends with Mr. Logan?”

The mention of her special name for him made me turn to look at her as she stared out of the window, as though a random thought had simply popped into her head and rolled out without any realization of what it did to me. Of the memories it invoked or the ridiculous desire that still pooled in the very depths of my belly.

Memories of that kiss.

“What makes you ask that?”

“I haven’t heard you talk about him since I stayed at Aunt Liv’s that weekend.” Bella turned to me with innocent eyes. “I liked him. He was nice.”

Trying to compose myself, I focused on the road ahead, ignoring the thumping of my heart. “I liked him, too, sweetie.”

“But you don’t anymore?”

“I never said that.”

“Your face did.”

I cast a quick glance her way, unable to stop my small scowl before I schooled my features and stared straight ahead again. “It’s a little… complicated, Bella.”

“Why? At school, you’re either friends or you’re not. Why is it complicated for you and him?”

“It doesn’t quite work that way as adults, unfortunately.”

“Why not?”

“Because adults are foolish.”

“I don’t understand.”

I took a moment to gather my thoughts. “What’s that saying? We have friends who come into our lives for different reasons. Some for a lifetime, some for a season. It means not everyone is going to stay, bug. Sometimes we have friends who will be there when we need them the most, but once we’re better, they go away again, knowing we’re okay now.”

“That’s what he did?”

“I think so,” I said with a small nod.

“That’s sad,” she said softly. “He helped us. He should have been able to stay for doing that.”

I had no argument for that without exposing her to the truth, and she was too young to bear the weight of any more news that could destroy her already fragile happiness.

“He was a good listener,” she said. “I liked that about him. Guess I’ll have to find someone else to help me now.”

“Help you?”

She sighed dramatically. “There’s another thing at school. Most people are taking their parents in to do a talk about what they do for a job, and I wanted to take part, but you don’t work, and Daddy is…” She trailed off, not needing to finish that particular sentence.

I had to swallow down the self-loathing, the anger at Cole, and the disappointment I held for my six-year-old daughter, who was having to grow up way too quickly when all I’d ever wanted was for her to enjoy her childhood for as long as humanly possible.

“Do you think Mr. Logan would have done it?” she asked with hope still in her voice as she turned to face me again. “If you’d still been friends?”

Logan would have been there for her without question. He probably still would, had it not been for me standing in the way. I tried to think of other people in her life she could show off with pride, whizzing through a feeble list in my mind. I didn’t want any of Cole’s bandmates to show up at her school on her father’s behalf. They’d spent far too long in the limelight and would no doubt roll up to the building with a hooker in the back of their limo before pulling up their zipper and walking the school halls with a smoke perched between their lips, reeking of scotch.

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