Page 85 of Say You'll Stay

“What is it, Kat?”

“I told my mom we were engaged, so it’s a celebratory dinner. You will need to look nice, so I picked out your outfit for you.”

Again, when the fuck did I even ask her? Am I not supposed to get on a knee and make tearful eye contact or something when I ask? Isn’t it supposed to be memorable or something? I sure as hell don’t remember making it a real thing.

I agreed to talk about it.

Not. The. Same.

However, this will be good. I can go over there and then confront her dad and end this charade with Kat. Plus, she will already be at her house, so I won’t have to deal with her in the car.

Then I’ll pay Allie a visit and set her straight.

Jadon’s daycare is an irritant right now. It’s too happy and bright and the screaming laughter of all the happy children adds to my sour mood. The happy suns and flowers painted on the walls look like assholes that could stand to look a little less douche-tastic.

Or maybe it’s just me.

“Daddy!” Jadon runs to me like always and jumps into my arms. “What are we doing today?”

“We are going to go pick up something for you and your mom. How do you feel about cereal?” I help him into the back of my car. I taught him how to buckle himself in since he can manage it. He gives himself a high-five every time he shows me he did it correctly.

I’m teaching him how to tie his shoes, too, since that will help him out once he gets to school next year.

Next summer, he will know how to change the oil in his mother’s car. Or help me, at least, when she lets me do it for her.

“Mommy doesn’t let me eat cereal.”

Well, fuck. Bless Allie and her home cooking heart. It’s always something healthy. Not bad, but the kid could use some sugar once in a while.

She is, as I suspected, not home when Jadon and I get back from the store and Tom is staring at the inside of the refrigerator.

“Everything good, Tom?” He grunts and I guess that’s my answer. “Alright, well, I’ll probably be back later.”

“She called.”

I stop in my tracks just before I head for the front door.

“One of you boys did something, and she’s not telling me what it is, so it’s serious.” He closes the fridge and watches me with raised eyebrows. “She will be home later. She’s bringing Charity over. If I were you, I’d stay away tonight. Charity is protective of Allie, just like one of those little rat dogs women put in purses that snap at everyone.”

He always gives the best advice that I never listen to.

“I’ll probably still come over.” Not even probably. I’m sure I can handle Charity.

Tom shakes his head, and Jadon introduces me to his secret handshake before I leave. There were a lot of moves, but I am going to remember them all for the next time.

* * *

The Vandenburg house has always felt cold to me. I used to worry about Kat’s dad liking me so much when he really has never shown me anything other than his hospitality.

It’s too bad I’m disgusted by the man now.

Mark Vandenburg. He owns seven real estate companies and several investment businesses passed down from his mother’s side. From his marriage, he gained a hefty chunk of ownership over some other mixed businesses, and collects paychecks from them without lifting a finger. He likes golf. Has an Ivy League education and could live anywhere in the world, but chooses this small town like the big fish that doesn’t fit in this pond. He has all this money. I don’t know that there’s anything else the man could want.

His mistress’s name is Stacie, and she is two years older than I am. We had algebra together.

Vivian Vandenburg is Kat in about twenty-five years with the same blond hair and designer look. Enjoys her wine club, wine trips, and pretty much anything to do with wine. Though she thinks shirts with wine references on them are tacky.

She is on her third glass, and her face is frozen right now from a recent injection or something.

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