13. Wade

thirteen

wade

Today will go down as one of the shittiest days ever. Nothing will ever trump the day Lemon broke my heart, even though she tried to do it again today. Admitting that she's jealous of Goldie really stung. It twisted my insides like a pretzel, and nothing is going to set them right again. As much as I want to think Lemon's being ridiculous, I get it. I would be pretty jealous if she had a child with someone that wasn't me. I know the day is coming though so I'm trying to prepare myself. Someday, Lemon will walk through town holding the hand of someone who isn't me, and I'm going to have to accept it.

Even when I don't want to.

At the end of the day, I drag my tired, sorry, and sore ass up the small flight of stairs to my back porch. It hurts to bend over, but I manage enough to loosen my boots to kick them off. They're caked in mud and probably manure. They're not something I want inside my house.

Inside, I hear Goldie laughing. It's the best damn sound in the world. There are days when I wish I could go back to the beginning to hear her laugh all over again. Each day I was with her, I wished Lemon was there with me, watching this little life grow.

I stand there, watching my daughter and my mom move around my kitchen together. They're best friends, always cooking together. I know my mom is trying to teach Goldie how to knit, but she might be a little too young for that. My mom always wanted a daughter and thought Lemon would become that one day. Boy did I feel like a total shit when I had to tell my parents I was going to be a dad and Lemon wasn't the mom.

My parents love Ana though. They treat her well because it's important for Goldie to see us as a united front for her. She's everyone's priority. The last thing I want is for her to grow up and ever think her grandparents didn't like her mom.

"Daddy!" Goldie squeals in delight when she sees me. I smile brightly and push off the wall, hold my arms out, and catch her easily. "How was work? Did you know we couldn't go outside because there's a swimming pool out there now?"

"Work was long and hard, and yes, I know. I was there this morning, or did you forget?"

She shrugs and squirms, so I put her down.

"How was school?" I ask, following her deeper into the kitchen. I dip my finger in the pasta sauce in the pan, on the stovetop. It's delicious, with the perfect mix of spices.

"It was okay," Goldie says. "I made you a picture." She gets down, runs down the hall, and returns before I can start talking to my mom. Goldie hands me a drawing of me, her, and Ana. On the outside, we look like a happy family, which is exactly what we want Goldie to think.

"Who is this?" I ask, pointing to a dog that neither of us has.

Goldie shrugs. "He doesn't have a name yet," she tells me as she climbs back onto the chair next to my mom who is rolling out a pie crust.

"Who does he belong to?"

"Us," she says without looking at me.

Instead of arguing with her about how we're not getting a dog, I put a magnet over the paper and stick it to the refrigerator. My fingers brush the Magnolia Grove school magnet, and my eyes immediately go to Lemon's photo, name, phone number, and email address. Under all the necessities of how to get a hold of her is a quote or tag line: Your children are my happiness .

Looking at Goldie, I huff. I should take the magnet to Lemon at the next board meeting and ask her if my child really is her happiness because after today, we know that's not true. As much as I want to push the memories from earlier out of my mind, I can't. I kissed her and she kissed me back. To me, that's very telling on how she feels.

She's jealous of my daughter though.

Jealousy is such a strong emotion and not one easily overcome. Maybe it's high time I push Lemon Walsh out of my system once and for all. There has been plenty of interest over the years from other women, but my heart has always been tied to Lemon. I wish I could shut that part of me off, to flip the switch and never have to wonder and long for someone who can't love me back because of my daughter.

Easier said than done.

"You're quiet," my mom says, breaking my thoughts.

"Long day," I tell her. "Thank you for picking this munchkin up from school." I run my hand down Goldie's curls and kiss the top of her head.

"I don't mind," Mom says. "Have you thought about hiring some help?"

I shake my head, but then nod. "I have delegated more and with Dad's help things are getting done on time. I just have to let go and trust that the team I have working for me is doing the job to my satisfaction."

"Well, if they're not, Ms. Linda will surely let you know."

My eyes roll automatically at the mention of Ms. Linda's name. She would surely be the first person to let me know if my business was failing.

While my mom is still at my house, I take a shower and start a load of laundry. The pile seems endless, and it might be because I refuse to wash my dirty clothes with Goldie's. In fact, I should probably take my stuff to the laundromat with all the crap I get on them daily.

My mom leaves as soon as the timer for the lasagna buzzes with strict instructions on the pie she and Goldie made. While I plate the pasta dish, with a side salad and garlic bread, my daughter has her face almost pressed to the glass on the oven, keeping an eye on the pie.

"Come eat."

"But the pie."

"It's not going anywhere, and I have the timer set."

"But Grandma said."

"We'll sit right here," I tell her as I set our plates on the island where we usually eat breakfast. For dinner, I like us to sit at the table, even though I'm far from formal. However, growing up, we always ate dinner at the dining room table. Even when my dad had to work late or my mom had a meeting, we were always at the table. It's where my dad would hold court—his words, not mine—and we'd talk about the goods and bads of the day. It's something I want to keep doing with Goldie.

I'm also not an ass and know how important pie is, and I know it's more special when you make it with your grandmother. There's no way I'm going to let the apple pie burn. I move Goldie's stool to the other side so she can see the oven and then help her climb onto the seat even though she tells me she's old enough to do it herself.

As her father, it's not about her age. It's how she's always going to be my little girl. I'm always going to want to help her, and I don't want to think about a time when she doesn't need my help.

I cut Goldie's lasagna before sitting down to eat my dinner. "What else happened at school today?"

After she takes a heaping bite, she gives me a toothy, spaghetti sauce smile. The parent in me wants to remind her to chew with her mouth closed, but the kid in me giggles and then touches her nose because she's so damn cute.

"I take it you had a good day?"

"I made a friend."

"What? No way. What's their name?"

"Rosie but I don't know her last name. She was my reading partner today and then asked me to play at recess. And we sat together at lunch."

"Well, that's fantastic."

Goldie nods. "She asked me for my phone number, but I don't have a phone."

"No, you don't. And you're too young to have one. You can give her my number though, or Grandma's."

"Okay. Can you write Grandma's number down for me?"

"I will and I'll put it in your backpack." I plan to write Goldie's name on an index card with mine and my mother's contact details on there so she can hand her number out at any time. Not that I have the time, but I'd figure something out if she was invited to parties or playdates. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for her.

A few bites into dinner, the timer goes off. Goldie's off her stool before I can even move. She's lightning quick with getting her stepstool in front of the oven and shutting the timer off but waits for me to open the oven.

"Step back a bit so you don't get burned from the hot air."

"Okay, Daddy."

As soon as I open the door, the smell of baked apple pie wafts through the air. I inhale deeply, close my eyes, and take in the fall aroma.

"I'm ready for Halloween," Goldie says, pulling me quickly back to the task at hand.

"Do you know what you want to be?" I reach for the potholder and slowly pull out the tray my mom put the pie on and set it on the trivets.

"I think I want to be a witch or a ghost or a princess."

All three are characters she wanted to be last year, and she ended up being Olaf from Frozen .

"Okay, we'll go shopping for a costume soon."

"When can I have pie?"

"Let's finish dinner, we'll call Mommy, then after you take your shower, we'll have pie."

"Plan," she says, giving me a fist bump.

When Goldie says she's done, I hand her my phone and watch as she heads to the living room to call her mom. I like to give her some private time. I don't have the need to be up in Goldie's space all the time. She's used to living with Ana, and while Goldie spent her summer and vacations here, she knows this is different.

After I get the dishes done, our lunches packed for tomorrow, and the leftovers put away, I head into the living room. Goldie's on the couch, lying on her stomach while she video chats with her mom.

"Mom, Daddy is here. I gotta go shower. Don't leave." Goldie gets up and leaves Ana on the phone, upside down. I pick it up and sit down.

"Hey."

"She made a friend?"

I nod and recap what Goldie told me over dinner and tell Ana I'll put some cards in Goldie's backpack to hand out if someone asks for her number.

"This is a good thing."

"It is," I say to Ana. "What's new?"

"I filed for divorce today."

I'm shocked, but surprised it happened so quickly. "Does he know?"

"Yeah, I called and told him. He's sorry and wants a second chance, but I'm not willing to give it. I would never trust him again, especially around Goldie."

"I'm proud of you."

"Thanks."

"So, I've been thinking. What do you think about me moving to Magnolia?"

I work hard to mask how I'm feeling. "I think that would be great." And it would be great . . . for Goldie. For me, not so much.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me, Wade Jenkins. We may not be lovers, but we are best friends. I know everything there is to know about you. Spill."

I sigh and rub my hand over my face. "I kissed Lemon today."

Ana's eyes widen and she covers her mouth. "You did not!"

I nod. "And then we argued. She thinks I cheated with you, and I can see why she thinks that because we disagree on the whole break up thing, but the worst part is . . ." I pause because how do you tell a mother that another woman is jealous of her child?

"But what?" Ana prods.

"Lemon's jealous of Goldie."

Ana's eyes narrow. "How can she be jealous of her?"

"Look, what I'm about to say makes sense to me because if you knew Lemon and me back then, you'd get it. Being that I dragged you into this shit, you're an innocent party in all of this. Lemon and I had plans, you know this, and when she looks at Goldie, she not only sees a reminder of the night she asked for a break, but also sees a little girl that could've been her child if she hadn't broken up with me."

"Oh, Wade." Ana shakes her head. "I'm sad for you and her, but I'm also angry because Goldie is innocent in all of this."

"I know. Deep down, Lemon knows this as well. She's a good person."

"Maybe I shouldn't move there."

"What? No! You'll move here because our daughter is here. My parents are here, and you'll have support. You'll have me. Lemon . . ." I say her name and sigh. "If we're meant to be together, it'll happen. If not, maybe it's time I move on."

"I could totally be your wingwoman."

I can't help but laugh. "Yes, I can see it now. ‘Hi, I'm Wade, and this is my best friend, Ana, who is also my baby mama, but don't worry, there isn't anything between us.'"

"Strictly friends." Ana laughs. I can't imagine introducing myself like that. But saying those words out loud gives me a different perspective. Ana and I have a unique situation. It works for us but may not work for everyone. There are times when I wish Ana and I could make things work. Not for Goldie's sake, but because life would be so damn easy. Ana and I get along, but that's where things stop. We're not in love with each other or even attracted to each other. We ended up in a situation, thanks to our inebriated state.

"Strictly friends," I say. We talk about when she's moving here and I tell her I'll start looking for a place or that she can probably stay at my parents, which I know Goldie will like, until she can find a place. Living with me would be the easy option, but then I'd have to kiss any chance of getting close to Lemon out the window.