Lainey’s List Chapter 18

Lainey

As I’m packing up, Charlie reappears. Her pretty face is flushed with anger.

“That man is such a jerk,” she fumes and then immediately turns to Cassidy who is waving her princess wand at the television. “Sorry, baby, don’t ever repeat that word until you’re like 18.”

“She’s not listening, and if ‘jerk’ is the worst word in her vocabulary, I think she’s going to be all right.” I brush a hand over my baby’s hair. “Cassidy, run into the kitchen and get your tiara, okay? Mommy needs to talk to Auntie Charlie for a minute.”

“’Kay.”

We watch Cassidy scamper into the kitchen before Charlie turns to me. “I don’t know how you deal with that.”

“I don’t. I don’t see him or talk to him. This is the most time I’ve spent with him in years so it’s fine.” I give a tiny shrug. “Not gonna lie. There were moments during dinner when I wanted to shove my steak knife into his throat but as long as he stays on his side of the city and I stay on mine, it’s all good.” I shoulder Cassidy’s toy bag and grab my keys.

Charlie makes an unhappy noise. “I hate that you’re leaving. Can we try again tomorrow?”

“Sorry. We have ballet lessons.”

“Mommy, I need to use the potty,” Cassidy interrupts.

I bend down. “All right. Run to the bathroom and then we’ll leave.”

“Can you come with me?” She twists a foot into the rug.

I exchange a surprised glance with Charlie. Cassidy’s pretty independent and the fact that she wants me to go with her to the bathroom is worrisome.

“Sure, baby girl.” I hand the toy bag off to Charlie and follow Cassidy into the hall bathroom.

Cassidy doesn’t actually go potty. Instead, she burst into tears.

I scoop her up. “What’s wrong?”

“Did I ‘barass you?” she cries, her bright blue eyes sparkling with tears.

“No, baby. Of course not!” I cradle her head against my shoulder and jiggle her a little, just like when she was a little baby.

“I knocked the man’s glass over,” she sobs.

“So what? That’s no big deal?”

“But we’re leaving now and it’s my fault.”

Oh Chip. Goddamn him. I hate him so much but storming out of here and slamming my fist into his face—no matter how personally gratifying that would feel—isn’t going to make Cassidy stop crying.

“It’s nothing. We all spill. Remember the other day when I dropped the bowl of yogurt and it splashed all over?” She nods, rubbing her wet face in my neck. Each pass of her little wet nose against my skin ratchets up the anger I have toward Chip. I suppress it as best I can. “We cleaned that up and got another bowl out of the fridge and it was no big deal, right?”

She nods again. I continue to rock her and rub her back until her thin body stops shuddering. Outside the bathroom door, I hear noises and then a slammed front door.

A knock on the bathroom is followed by a soft voice. “It’s me, Charlotte. Chip left.”

And it’s time for us to go too. Cassidy’s tired. I set her on the edge of the sink and wipe the tears off her face. “See, baby. The bad man left. It’s time for you and mommy to go home.” I rub my stomach dramatically. “I am so hungry for french fries.” Her little stomach contracts as I poke it. “Your tummy says it’s hungry, too.”

She gives me a watery smile.

“Okay, do you still need to use the potty?”

“Yeah.”

I help her down. “Do your business and then come out and say goodnight to Auntie Charlie.”

“And Uncle Nick?” she asks, as she waddles over to the toilet.

“And Uncle Nick.” I close the door behind me and look up to see Uncle Nick leaning against the wall, his arms folded, ankles crossed, and an unhappy expression marring his perfect, masculine features.

“Lainey, I’m sorry. He’s just not a fan of kids.”

“Oh really?” I say sarcastically. “I swear I heard him say he wanted two of them.” Nick’s face twists up but I decide to let the guy off the hook. My quarrel isn’t with Nick. We have our own problems but none of them are related to Chip. I wave my hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You don’t have to leave.”

“I’m tired. Cassidy’s tired. You have film to watch.” Suddenly, I do feel exhausted.

“I suppose so.” He tucks a few fingers into the tops of his pockets and looks down at the tops of his shoes. He’s embarrassed by what happened at dinner, caught between his coach and his friends. And I don’t like being the source of his discomfort.

Without another word, I retrieve Cassidy. After she gives her hugs and kisses goodbye, I take her hand and we walk down to the parking lot. She helps me buckle her in and happily accepts my phone with Imagination Movers cued up. I shut the car door, and when I turn around, Chip is there.

I jump back, hand over my heart. “Good gracious. You scared me.”

He steps forward, into my space, until the toes of his expensive loafers are nearly flush against the tips of my ballet flats. “You have a nice little set up being friends with Charlie and Nick. How’d trash like you get hooked up with a quality pair like those two?”

I’m so grateful for the night that disguises the heat on my cheeks. “Go to hell, Jonathan.”

His face grows angrier at my use of his birth name. He likes being called Chip, although I have no idea why. It’s a snack food, for Christ’s sake.

“You’re nothing but camp pussy—a whore that goes from player to player. Except you have a particular fetish, right? Quarterbacks?”

I glance back at Cassidy hoping to God she can’t hear him through the glass of the car door. “Seriously, move the hell away from me.”

He doesn’t move. If anything, he leans closer.

“What do you think your precious Charlie and Nick would think about the fact that you got pregnant during an orgy? That you weren’t even sure who the father of your kid was? Do you think they would want you to hang around? A slut like you?”

My cheeks burn with shame. Charlie doesn’t know the specifics of how I became pregnant, and I would die before Nick ever found out. I try not to let Chip see this though. I try to not give him another weapon over me. “You know this kid is yours. And I would never have been in that situation if it weren’t for you.” I was seventeen and at a party with a bunch of pro players where drugs and liquor were being passed around. What chance did I have?

“But you were. And I’ve got the pictures to prove it. Anytime I want, I can pull those pictures out and smear your name all over this city. By the time I’m done, there wouldn’t be a judge alive who would let you keep your kid.”

I curl my hands into fists and fantasize about pummeling Chip until his jaw is broken and he can’t spew this filth.

“You don’t want a child. You said that. We agreed that you would have nothing to do with Cassidy. That I would never make a claim on you.”

“Because I paid you a hundred grand,” he spits.

“Right. That’s Cassidy’s college fund.” I don’t feel an ounce of guilt for taking his blood money. If anything, I regret not trying for a higher amount although the nest egg is growing nicely. By the time my girl is eighteen, there’ll be enough for her to go to any school in the country. Grad school, too. She won’t be like me, taking any kind of job there is to put food on the table.

He laughs. “You’ve probably stuck half of it up your nose. Whatever, none of my business. I don’t really care. But what I do care about is your skanky ass hanging around the Mustangs. And you definitely don’t belong near Charlie.”

“Nothing in our agreement defines who my friends are,” I say, and am surprised at the evenness of my tone, despite the fear and anger raging inside of me.

“Charlie and I are about to become real close. So my suggestion to you is to find a new circle of friends. Or one of these days someone might see that picture of yours.”

“I was seventeen, and you drugged me,” I hiss.

He rocks back on his heels, still smiling his smug-ass grin. “Really? An NFL quarterback with more pussy than I can handle is drugging some teenage cunt? I don’t think anyone is going to believe that. Isn’t that why you didn’t go to the police? Because you knew no one would buy your story?” He leans so close I can smell the onions and beef on his breath. I turn my face to the side. “Rethink your options. You leave or I humiliate you and take away your kid. Leave or your friend, Nick, is going to have a real tough year. I’m his coach. He’s barely out of his rookie year. The franchise could easily look for a new quarterback if he doesn’t pan out.”

He reaches out, and I flinch. He tweaks me on the nose. “It’s all in your trashy hands, Elaine. What are you going to do?”

He tucks his hands in his pockets and walks off whistling. It takes three tries before I can get my door open, my hands are shaking so bad.

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