Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

NOVA

Mom anxiety was a beast of its own. Logically, I understood flag football wouldn’t make or break Ben’s introduction to Texas, but I also remembered tearing him away from the friends he’d known his entire life and the amount of tears he’d shed on our three day drive to Arcadia Creek. This felt a little like a Band-aid over the real, raw pain he was facing. I worried it would only serve to make things worse if he didn’t enjoy it but persevered because he thought it was the way to make friends.

At least with the practice looming and his new friend Pete, he hadn’t asked to call his dad in the last few days. Watching him hold the phone so hopefully and the FaceTime ring going unanswered was like a knife to the kidneys every time.

I slid my gaze to Alice, watching her play Letterland on her Kindle in the front passenger seat. In the two weeks we’d been here, the kids talked to their dad once, and it was a quick phone call Sunday morning on our way out the door.

The kids in the practice looked like they were rounding up and about to finish. My eyes trailed to Dusty standing in front of them, his hands around a football, smiling at the boys as he talked. The man was everywhere. It didn’t seem like I could get away from him—not that I wanted to. He was extremely respectful and, despite being crazy attractive, I hadn’t felt any sort of predatory behavior directed my way. He was friendly and kind of a tease, but he wasn’t a flirt.

Which made me like him, but it also made me wonder if I’d imagined him checking me out in the market that first day. It would make the most sense. I was constantly in some form of wrinkly clothing and hadn’t worn my hair in anything but a ponytail in eight years.

Not literally, but it felt that way sometimes.

There was that phase where I’d chopped my hair to my chin to make it harder for Ben’s pudgy baby hands to grab, but that only made it more difficult to get out of my face while I did chores or changed diapers or threw up thanks to my second pregnancy.

My phone lit up with a call from Trish, a woman who’d sat on the PTA board at my kids’ school in Manhattan. She’d called four other times, but I hadn’t bothered to listen to her voicemails. I knew I’d better answer so she’d leave me alone.

She’d been one of the moms eager to know how it had ended between Carter and me, and definitely didn’t believe me when I’d told her we’d drifted apart. He had been distant the last few years, but so had I. Two people could take blame for the end of my marriage, and I was one of them. Carter certainly hadn’t made it easy for me to try, but I did stop trying.

Though I will—privately—forever maintain that he checked out long before I did, he probably thinks the same about me. The difference was that I was busy trying to be a mom, and he was just bored. I didn’t love watching him flirt with waitresses or people at office parties, but I never wanted to argue either.

“Hey, Trish,” I said, infusing my voice with such false cheeriness that Alice looked up from her game for a moment in confusion .

“Nova! Hi! I didn’t think I’d get a live version of you!” She trilled a laugh that made me clench my teeth.

“Just been busy, getting back into the workforce and all that.”

“I’ve heard,” she said, lowering her voice. “Things are different for you now. How are you?”

The inflection was meant to make it sound like she really cared, but I knew her. Our kids had started in preschool together, so we had five years of history. Trish was the queen of the parent association and the biggest gossip in the Upper West Side. She was good at shrouding it in enough empathy that I’d felt safe confiding in her, so I constantly had to remind myself that anything I told Trish would be around the entire school by the end of the next day.

“Great,” I said. Okay, that was probably too much. I softened my voice. “Things are going well. The kids have found friends already, which is a relief.”

“I can only imagine,” she said, slowly and sadly. “I saw Carter the other night.”

Everything went silent around me, except for the sudden strange ringing in my ears. “Oh?”

“At that new restaurant off Amsterdam. Pickle. Have you heard of it?”

“Yes, I have.” It was in my planner, still, under the To Do List section as a possible date night when it opened. I had circled it because early critics had nothing but nice things to say and the ambiance looked romantic.

Which meant Carter probably hadn’t gone to dinner alone. “He was with the blonde, I’m guessing.”

“No, a redhead.”

Oh. Had he left the lawyer, or was he dating around? It wasn’t any of my business, but I felt a wave of umbrage that he had time for multiple women but couldn’t seem to answer the phone when his kids called. I inhaled patience, tracking the team on the grass and watching the boys disperse to waiting parents in idling cars. It was the end of twilight and dark, the lights over the park glowing orange on the grass.

The silence extended, and I didn’t know what Trish wanted from me. Crying? Raging? Dirt about the hot cowboys filling this town? My gaze flicked to Dusty, gathering cones with Brody, then fell to my lap. “Listen, I need to run?—”

“Did you get my messages?” she asked.

My cheeks went hot. “I’ve been so busy, Trish. I haven’t had a chance to listen to them yet.”

“Well, we have the spring science fair coming up, and a few of the parents mentioned those adorable cookies you brought last year. We were hoping you could make them again.”

I blinked. “I live in Texas now.”

“I know. You can ship them, can’t you? How much would you charge for five dozen?”

My mind spun. I couldn’t ship her sixty cookies. I hadn’t even made cookies since that science fair, so I was probably rusty. “They’ll end up a box of crumbs.”

Trish’s laugh grated against me. “I researched it, Nova. I’ll send you the article on how to pack them. But we’ll pay you before they arrive anyway, so you don’t need to worry about losing all that money if it doesn’t work. Is three hundred enough?”

Dollars? I almost choked.

“That’s for the cookies, shipping costs and postage fees,” she said.

I could use three hundred dollars, easily. After paying the fees for this flag football endeavor, my bank account was dangerously low. But when would I have the time? After the kids were asleep?

“Nova?”

“Sorry, I was trying to figure out if I could fit it in. When do you need them by? ”

“Next Friday. We can overnight them so they stay fresh. Let me know what the postage comes to, and I’ll reimburse you if it’s extra.”

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Fantastic!” Trish made a kissy noise. “Lovely. Thanks, Nova. We’ll chat later.”

We hung up the phone right as my car lit up from Ben opening the door. “Who was that?” he asked.

“Trish. She wants cookies for the science fair. I’m going to make some and mail them to her.”

“Rockets and astronauts like you did last year?” he asked, sounding excited.

“Maybe some beakers or DNA, too. What do you think?”

“I liked the rockets.”

Of course he did. “Hop in the back,” I said to Alice, who obeyed with a world-weary sigh.

“Everyone’s going to Gigi’s for milkshakes,” Ben said quietly, buckling his seatbelt.

My hand hovered over the gear selector. “They do this every practice?”

“No, just on Fridays.”

Mentally, I calculated how much money I’d already spent registering for the team and buying the necessary shoes, socks, and athletic shorts. Bring in milkshakes once a week, and whatever else they were going to throw at us, and I didn’t know if my bank account would survive the rest of the season.

“I don’t know, babe.”

“We don’t have to get ice cream,” he said hurriedly. “Or we can all share one.”

That sounded worse. The fact that he knew it was probably money keeping us away made my stomach hurt.

A knock on my window made me jump, screeching in surprise. When I rolled down the window to Dusty’s laughing face, I tossed him a wry smile .

“We’re all heading to Gigi’s for milkshakes,” he said, his voice rich and slow. “She does kid sizes for a dollar on weekends, but I’m guessing you already knew that.”

I didn’t, and it made a difference. I could manage two dollars. “She doesn’t have me work evenings, so I wasn’t aware. Thanks.”

He waited a second before his attention shifted to Brody walking a bike past my car. “Toss that in my truck,” he told Brody. “I’ll drive you to Gigi’s.”

“That’s okay.”

“I owe you dinner, and it’s getting too dark to ride that thing without a light.”

Brody hesitated before turning his bike toward a black truck.

“We’ll see you there?” Dusty asked, winking at my kids over my shoulder.

“Yeah, you’ll see us there.”

His gaze dropped to my face, a flash of something in his eyes I couldn’t name. I held my breath, my eyes locked on his, before breaking the connection and looking down at my phone, ostensibly to check the time.

“Great,” Dusty said, tapping the hood of my car before walking toward his truck.

I rolled up the window, letting out a shaky breath.

Yes, okay, so I could no longer deny the attraction I felt to Dusty, but that didn’t change anything about my situation or priorities.

“That’s mine!” Alice said, her shrill whine cutting through my thoughts.

“I just want to play one round. I’ll give it right back.”

“But you didn’t ask,” Alice cried. “You have to ask. Mom ! Ben took my Kindle!”

“Give it back, Ben,” I told him, putting the car in reverse and looking in my rearview mirror.

His face was lit by the screen. “After I finish this round. ”

“Mom! It’s mine! He didn’t ask!”

“Ben,” I said, more sharply this time. “If you expect me to take you for milkshakes, your behavior needs to earn it.”

He scowled, but it only took a second for him to toss the Kindle on the floor. “Fine.”

Alice scoffed in outrage. “He threw my Kindle!”

“Ben,” I repeated, more pleading this time.

He made a frustrated sound, but picked it up and put it in his sister’s lap, then frowned out the window. I wanted to ask about practice, but that conversation would probably go better at bedtime, so I bit my tongue.

Gigi’s was noisy when we let ourselves in the back door, having parked just outside the entrance to our apartment. Bonnie looked up from where she was manning the stove and gave us a wide grin. I hadn’t gotten to work with the evening cook yet, but we’d met a handful of times.

“Gigi’s out there.” Bonnie’s eyes dropped to Ben. “A crowd just came in that looks to be about your age, young man.”

Ben grinned, his face lighting up and all contention with his sister forgotten. “It’s my football team.”

The ownership with which he said this made my heart sing. “We’d better join them. Good to see you, Bonnie.”

The dining room overflowed with people. The boys had crammed themselves into two booths and parents were milling about, chatting and taking seats at different tables. I imagined waitressing and figuring out bills here was a nightmare in the evenings, and was glad Lacey was the one on shift. She seemed competent.

“Mom,” Alice whispered, grabbing my hand.

I leaned down. “Is this overwhelming? We can leave and come back for Ben later. I bet Gigi would keep an eye on him.”

“No, I see Kendall.”

I looked where my shy girl was pointing and found Kendall at a table with Desi and a redheaded man in a blue button- down shirt, which accounted for Kendall’s strawberry blonde hair.

“I think they’re having a family dinner. We shouldn’t interrupt.”

Alice tugged on my arm. I didn’t know why we had to run into people my kids knew everywhere we went, but it was a little exhausting.

Desi looked up and noticed me. She lifted her hand in a wave.

No choice but to speak to them now.

“Come on,” I said to Alice, weaving our way through the people.

“Hey,” Dusty said, pressing lightly on my arm. He immediately removed his hand. “Do y’all need a place to sit?”

“Maybe. We were going to say hi to Alice’s friend first.”

He pointed to the booth he and Brody had with another couple I had seen at the practice. “We can fit two more. I’ll save you seats.”

“Thank you.”

“Not a problem, ma’am.”

His slight Texas twang with those southern manners were going to give me weird cowboy dreams tonight. I could feel it in my blood.

“Sit with us!” Kendall said when Alice and I approached their table.

I glanced up to see Officer Partridge sitting with them, the one I’d met with the red hair. I hadn’t realized Desi was married to him. Now that I thought about it, I don’t think she ever provided her last name.

“We have a seat already,” I told them, not in the mood to eat with their perfect little family. “We just wanted to say hi first.”

“That’s sweet of you,” Desi said, leaning close to her husband. “I’ve heard y’all met already.”

“We have.” I smiled at him .

“Listen,” Desi said. “We’re having a little dinner at our house tomorrow night. Why don’t you come? Bring the kids.”

“I don’t want to impose.” Especially since we were clearly an afterthought. She’d said nothing about this the other day at the park.

“Nonsense. It’s just a casual group of friends. Bring a side or a dessert and we’ll throw it in.”

Every part of my being wanted to turn down the invitation, but the pleading way Alice looked at me clinched it. “We’d love to,” I said.

“Great.” Desi flashed her perfect teeth. “I’ll text you the details.”

“Well, we’d better sit, Alice.”

The noise was growing, energy in the room buzzing. Ben was sitting with his friends, beaming, which gave my heart a little shot of joy. We slid onto the bench beside Dusty, a little more relaxed.

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back, cushioning himself in the corner of the seat to face me. “Are we scaring you away with our Texas customs, or are you buying into our southern charms?”

Despite the overwhelming nature of the crowd, the fact that Gigi was so caught up talking to people she hadn’t greeted us yet and the unending smell of diner grease that seemed to live on my skin, I couldn’t deny the way this place was starting to grow on me. A little.

“Jury’s still out,” I told him.

His laugh was dynamic. It slipped under my skin, making me feel warm and glowy. He introduced me to the other parents at the table. I admired the easy way he had about him, like he wasn’t conscious of his attraction or size or accent. He just occupied his space with nothing but the easy confidence of a man content with himself .

Brody folded his napkin into a triangle and tried to flick it into a goal post made from Dusty’s fingers.

Alice watched them eagerly, but she was too shy to ask if she could join them.

I was about to ask on her behalf when Dusty seemed to notice. He reached over me to put the paper football in front of her on the table, narrowly missing a drop of chocolate milkshake. He angled the goal posts her way. “Get it in one,” he challenged.

Alice took some coaching and about forty flicks, but she finally made it. The way Dusty and Brody cheered, you’d think she’d gotten it on her first try.

I didn’t think I could smile any wider after watching her succeed.

“You’ve got a little admiration on your face,” Dusty said softly, pointing to his lips like I had chocolate milkshake on my mouth. “I think that means you like it here.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Awkward. Yours is covered in try-hard.”

His eyes glittered. “Weird. I’ve never had to do that in my entire life.”

That one I could believe.