“You thought I’d be okay with this?” she asks me angrily.
“She’s going to be on an entirely different floor of the house. It doesn’t make sense for them to stay in a hotel and pay all that money and go back and forth,” I say, mimicking my mom’s argument. I can tell by the look on her face that she’s not buying this at all.
“Why the hell does she need to stay with you, Chris?” she fires back angrily.
“She’s not staying with just me. My parents are here!” This is not working at all.
“Caylen is your daughter too! She doesn’t need to be here. Don’t tell me she doesn’t trust you with her,” she states in disbelief.
“She’s only one, Jenna. Maybe she doesn’t feel comfortable leaving her with people she’s just met,” I say a little irritated.
“You are NOT a stranger to her,” she says angrily. “You can’t be that oblivious. She’s in love with you, Christopher!” she says, jabbing her finger into my chest.
“It’s not me she's in love with, Jenna! It's Cal.” I say angrily. If I need anyone to get this, it’s her. If she doesn’t get it how can I expect anyone else to?
“Who do you think she sees when she looks at you?!” she says sharply.
“Exactly! She’s going to get to know me while she’s here and see that I’m not him,” I shout back at her. She looks surprised. “Jenna I don’t want to argue about this every time I see you,” I plead, grabbing her hands. She snatches them away and puts them on her hips.
“There aren’t going to be anymore arguments,” she says calmly, and I’m a little caught off guard by her mood change. “I’m going to have my mom’s firm draw up papers for your divorce,” she says simply. My eyes widen.
“No, you’re not going to do that. I don’t want your parents to know about this!”
“Christopher, they already know. Apparently almost everyone in this town knows that you have a daughter now. I had to explain before they found out and came to a much worse conclusion,” she shrugs, and I scratch my head. What could be any worse than this?
“What did they say?” I ask reluctantly. She smirks.
“What do you think they said?” she says, sighing. That’s fantastic.
“Have you stopped to think about how this makes me look, Chris?” she asks, and I look down guiltily.
I haven’t.
I’ve been so busy trying to figure all this out that I didn’t think about what people might think of her.
“Look, I don’t care what people think about me, especially here. I’d just like you to be considerate of me, the other woman involved in this,” she says, looking up at me with tears in her eyes. I tug her towards me and she lets me hug her. I stroke her hair.
“I want this mess to be over with. I want us to start our life together and having her here, waving your marriage in front of me makes this a thousand times worse. I feel completely ridiculous wearing my ring while she has your last name,” she whimpers.
“Everything’s going to work out. I promise. Okay?” I step back and tilt her chin up to mine. She smiles at me and I hug her tightly. The past few conversations we’ve had end with her crying in my arms. I tell myself again, everything’s going to work out but each time it feels like a lie. At the end of three weeks, someone’s going to be hurt.
How do you hurt someone in the best way possible?
After our fight, Jenna made me feel so bad about Lauren staying that I agreed to go to her dad’s partner fundraising dinner I had forgotten about. I’m not looking forward to it, but I’m hoping I can blend in with the background or bump into someone who might talk about last night’s game.
When I told Lauren I was going she didn’t say much. She just gave me a small smile and kept watching TV. My mom reacted more to the news than Lauren, asking how I could leave Caylen on the first night home. But Lauren actually jumped to my defense, saying she’d be out in less than a half hour after I leave. My dad disappeared into his man cave after I heard him and my mom arguing about Lauren staying with us. I didn’t stick around to eavesdrop about the details. I’ve had enough arguments this week to last a lifetime.
I only have three suits. A grey one that makes me feel like I’m going to a funeral, a blue one Jenna bought me that makes me feel like a car salesman, and a black one that makes me feel like I’m in the mob. If I had to choose between them, the mob seems more exciting, but I grab the one Jenna bought. I shower and throw on the suit with a white shirt and black tie. I look at myself in the mirror and feel like I’m playing dress up in someone else’s clothes. I don’t know anything about fashion or what’s in and I can’t help but feel like something is off about my look. Jenna will have to give me a break on this one. I head towards my mom’s room and see her already sleeping. I was going to ask her to help me out but she’s had a long day. She was up even earlier than she usually is to prepare for Caylen’s arrival. I head downstairs in the dark except for the light shining under the door of Caylen’s new room. I can hear music playing. I walk towards the door to knock, but I don’t. Lauren has been pretty quiet since the talk with Jenna. Not that I blame her. She didn’t say much at dinner and looked a little dazed. I don’t know what they said to each other but whatever it was has caused her to be standoffish with me. I guess that’s a good thing. I know there’s a certain distance we should keep. I turn from the door and head across the kitchen to go out the back door.
“Chris,” she calls quietly. I turn around and see her standing in an oversized t-shirt that swallows her tiny frame over grey sweat pants. She has black reading glasses on but she still looks amazing. I shake the thought from my head.
“Hey,” I answer. She looks at me curiously, her eyes scanning me, and I realize that I’m dressed like a cross between a penguin and a valet parker.
“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” I say, taking the spotlight off me. She takes them off as soon as I say it. She looks embarrassed.
“Just to read,” she replies, closing the door behind her. “A little thirsty,” she says, gesturing towards the refrigerator.
“Oh sure,” I say, as she walks past me towards the refrigerator. I watch her as she opens it and grabs the container of orange juice. I don’t know why my feet feel stuck, why I’m so fascinated with what she’s doing, and why I haven’t left yet. I’m about ten minutes late already. After she pours her drink, she closes the refrigerator and starts to head back to her room.
“Have a nice time, Chris,” she says. That’s it. She doesn’t even glance at me. I don’t know why I care so much, but I do.
“Lauren,” I call out more urgently than I intended to. She turns around, a little surprised. Her eyes glance over me and she smiles.
“I don’t know what Jenna said to you earlier, but I know—on her behalf, I apologize.”
She nods but doesn’t say anything else. We both stand there a little uncomfortably. Not because there’s nothing to be said. I guess there’s too much to be said. I wish she’d say something, anything. I wish we could talk like we did that night. But at least she’s still standing here. She hasn’t gone in her room and shut the door in my face. Our eyes meet and my heartbeat speeds up.