“What about you, Dexter?” Frannie MacAllister asked once the girls had chosen their breakfast. “Can I get you something?”
I glanced at the display case and ordered a slice of quiche.
“Good choice,” she said. “The ham and gouda is one of Winnie’s favorites too. She might have even created this recipe—she’s an excellent cook.”
“Daddy is a terrible cook,” Hallie announced. “He tries, but he burns everything.”
Frannie laughed. “Winnie’s dad isn’t a very good cook either. But he’s good at other things, like I’m sure your dad is.”
“He’s good at putting out fires,” said Luna proudly. “He’s a firefighter.”
“That is a very important job.” Frannie smiled as she took a slice of quiche from the tray. “Now, will this be for here or to go?”
“To go,” I said, still a little wary of running into Winnie. “Thanks.”
A few minutes later, we were sitting in the church parking lot, the girls eating their muffins in the back seat, me devouring a slice of quiche in the front, trying to avoid getting anything on my white shirt. “Girls, could you please stop telling everyone you meet embarrassing things about me?”
“What kinds of things should we tell them?” Luna asked.
“How about saying nothing at all if you don’t have anything nice to say? Wasn’t that what Bambi said?”
“It was Thumper who said that, Daddy,” corrected Hallie.
“Whatever. Just no more telling people things like I snore or I swear or I have hair in my nose.”
“But you do,” Luna said with a laugh.
“Tell them about the hair on my chest. I like that hair.” I finished off the last bite of crust and checked the bag for a napkin. “Or my muscles. Can’t you guys tell people what big muscles I have?”
“We could,” allowed Hallie, “but muscles aren’t as funny as hair. And we decided we don’t care if you swear anymore.”
“You don’t?” No more napkins in the bag. I opened the glove box.
“No, because we need money in the box for Future Cat. So swear all you want.”
“Fuck,” I muttered, unable to find another napkin anywhere.
“That’s a dollar-fifty, Daddy.”
“A dollar-fifty!” I turned around and looked at them in the back seat. “You said yesterday the F word was only a buck.”
Hallie smiled sweetly. “Prices go up on Sunday.”
“Because of Jesus,” added Luna.
Turning around again, I grabbed the wheel and slumped down in my seat.
After church, I stood on the steps next to fucking Bryce for ten solid minutes while Naomi looked the girls over, as if she was expecting to find evidence of neglect. “You’re sure you’re all right?” she kept asking Luna.
“I’m fine, Mommy.”
Bryce kept busy on his phone the entire time, probably checking the value of his stock portfolio. He came from a wealthy family and never tired of telling people about his Harvard degree, his investments, or his sailboat. It drove me insane that once he married Naomi, my daughters were going to live in his house. They didn’t belong to him.
“Hals, do you want me to fix your pigtails? They’re not even.” Naomi reached for one of the elastics I’d put in.
Hallie pushed her hand away. “No, it’s okay. We’re just going swimming.”
“We have to go,” I said impatiently. “I’ll have them back by five.”
Naomi sighed and kissed them both. “Okay. Be careful in the pool please. And don’t forget sunscreen!”
I took the girls by the hands and walked them back to the car. On the ride home, I let them choose the music, and I think they knew I was bothered by something, because after I pulled into the garage and turned off the engine, Hallie unbuckled her seatbelt and hugged me from behind. “You get a ten this morning, Daddy.”
I patted her skinny forearm. “I do?”
“Yes.”
I looked over my shoulder at Luna. “Well, do you agree?”
“Yes,” she said, grinning at me. “It’s anonymous.”
“She means unanimous,” Hallie explained.
“Thank you.” I opened the car door, feeling a little better. “Who’s ready to go swimming?”
The girls had just gotten into their bathing suits when Chip and Mariah arrived. Since the kids were impatient to get in the water, we went out to the pool and sat in chairs near the edge. I sprayed Hallie and Luna down with sunscreen and made them wait a minute for it to dry, which they counted off standing on the pool’s top step, then jumped in.
While they played in the shallow end, Chip and Mariah talked a little about what I’d missed at the party and how they were anxious to come back and look at some wedding venues.
“I’ve heard Cloverleigh Farms is beautiful,” Mariah said, “but Chip’s cousin Winnie mentioned Abelard Vineyards too.”
At the mention of Winnie’s name, my blood warmed, but I was careful not to visibly react. “I’ve never been there, but I’ve heard it’s nice.”
“We thought about Chicago too, but we’re worried not everyone would be able to make the trip down, especially if we do it in the winter,” Chip said. “Mariah’s family doesn’t live too far from here, so this makes more sense.”
“You’re thinking this winter? Like before spring training?”
“Yeah.” Chip hesitated. “Actually, I’m thinking of retiring after this season.”
For the first time, I looked away from the kids. “Seriously?”
He shrugged. “My arm is shot, I’m tired, and I feel like I did what I wanted to do. I’m sort of ready for the next phase of my life. We’d like a family.”
I focused on my girls again. “Will it be hard to walk away?”
“If you’d have asked me that last year, I’d have said yes. But today, I can honestly say no.” He put an arm around Mariah and kissed her head. “There’s more to life than baseball.”
I laughed. “That’s something I never thought I’d hear Chip Carswell say.”
He chuckled too. “Times have changed, haven’t they? But after a while, you start to realize what really matters, and it’s not the money or the fame or the speed of your fastball.”
“I don’t know, those things sound pretty nice to me.”
“They are,” he said, “but I look at you and your girls and think it’s so fucking cool what you have. I’d easily walk away for that.”
“Can we watch our mouths around here, guys?” Mariah whispered, glancing around at all the families at the pool.
“I do love being their dad,” I said. “But I worry that the divorce is gonna mess with them forever. Or that I won’t able to give them everything they deserve. Or that I don’t have enough time with them.”
Mariah leaned over and touched my shoulder. “My dad raised me on his own until I was nine, and I know it’s not easy. He was a cop and worked long hours, and he used to worry about the same things. But the time he did have with me—he made it count. You do too, I can tell.”