Lainey’s List Chapter Forty-three

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Lainey

“Time to get up, baby girl.” I nudge the door of Cassidy’s room open, acutely aware of Nick watching my every move. He’s got my phone, saw my notes, and now I need that phone back to text a warning to Charlotte.

My girl’s head pops up. She always goes from asleep to awake in a nanosecond. I suppose she gets that from her dad because I go through two snoozes and have to engage in intense arguments with myself before I roll out of bed in the morning. “I’m hungry,” she announces. “Are we going to the park today?”

“Sure. What should we do?”

“Feed the ducks!” she exclaims tumbling out of bed. Over my shoulder, she spots her favorite person in the world. “Uncle Nick!” she screams. “Are you coming too?”

“I sure am.” He catches the little ball of curls and soft skin as it hurtles toward him. Lifting her high, he presses a dozen kisses against her face. She squeals with joy and kisses him back. Oh, to be young and innocent.

I pull out a pair of knit pants and a matching t-shirt and toss them onto the bed. “Get dressed, honey, and you can have a snack before we go. Faster you get dressed, sooner we can play with the ducks.”

“Let me go, Uncle Nick.” She wriggles out of his grasp and pushes at his knees. “I gotta get dressed.”

I finish the job, pushing Nick all the way out of the room and slamming the door shut behind me. I hold out my hand. “Can I have my phone back now?”

“Nope. You don’t need it. We’re going to the park, remember?” He shoves the phone in his front pocket. I grab for it, my hand brushing his dick. “Baby, if there’s something you want down there, I’m happy to get it out for you. No games necessary. Although,” he leans forward to whisper, “maybe we oughtta wait until Cassidy is sleeping again.”

A punch to his chest yields nothing but a hurt fist. “Give. Me. The. Phone,” I hiss. “What if I have an emergency and need to call for help?”

“I’m here,” he says.

“Don’t make me hurt you.”

His eyes light up with mischief. “How about this? I’ll give you your phone if you give me a kiss.”

“I’ll kiss you alright. With my fist.” I attack him but he skips backward, into the bathroom. I jump, grab his arm, and right when I’ve got my hand on the phone, Cassie’s little voice chirps behind me.

“Are we playing, Momma?”

I jerk around and bump Nick’s arm with me head. The phone drops out of his hand and into the toilet.

“Oh sh-shugar,” I cry, pushing Nick out of the way. I plunge my hand into the toilet water, but the screen on the phone is black. I press the power button and nothing happens.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Nick says quietly.

“You’re a walking, talking penis-head,” I hiss. “Let me use your phone.”

“No. I’ll buy you a new phone.” He pushes past me and grabs Cassidy. “Yeah, we’re going to play tickle monster.” He buries his face in Cassidy’s neck, and she screams with laughter.

As they giggle and play, I wash my hands and take a hair dryer to my phone but the quick dousing in the toilet has done the old thing in. Frustrated, I stalk out of the bathroom to find Nick and Cassidy eating peanut butter sandwiches.

“Uncle Nick’s gotta call his brother before we go, Momma,” Cassidy tells me. Her stubby legs swing back and forth, hitting Nick in the shins. I’d like to kick him there.

“I made you a sandwich too.” He points to the plate beside him. He shoves the rest of his sandwich in his mouth, gulps down half a glass of milk, and then leans over to ruffle Cassidy’s hair. Said asshole gets to his feet and says, “Be right back, sweetheart. Make sure your mom eats her sandwich.”

“Sit down, Momma.” Cassidy smiles sweetly up at me, having no idea what an asshole her favorite person is. “We put ‘nanas in yours.”

“Did you now?” I give in, taking the seat Nick abandoned. “How’d you know I’d want my sandwich just like that?”

“I didn’t,” she admits solemnly. “Uncle Nick said you liked them.”

“You love your Uncle Nick, don’t you?” I sigh. The sandwich is just how I like it—chunky peanut butter with a drizzle of honey and sliced bananas. I wonder when Nick saw me eat them. I can’t remember ever making them in front of him but I must’ve because how else would he have known? His own sandwich was a flat affair of bread and peanut butter, hold the honey.

“Yup. He’s the bestest.” The peanut buttery smile she gives me tugs at my heart. I’d been wrong to move her away from the people who loved her into a house full of sick people who all needed more attention than I could adequately give them.

I reach over and swipe a napkin across her face. “Your Uncle Nick sometimes does things that are aggravating.”

“What’s that?” she says around her last mouthful of sandwich.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” I chastise gently. “Aggravating is like when you’re tickled too much, and it isn’t fun anymore.”

“Oh, I don’t like that. Can’t you tell him to stop? He always stops when I tell him too. You should speak up more, Momma.”

“I suppose I should.”

She climbs off her chair and presses sticky fingers against my face. “Sometimes you can’t stop tickling because you just want to hear more laughing.”

I poke her in the side. “Like this?”

She arches away, holding her side and giggling. “Like that! Hurry up.” She skips away. “I wanna go to the park.”

Nick strolls in, leans one broad shoulder against the doorframe, and tucks his clean, dry phone into his pocket.

“Call your brother?”

“I did.” He holds out his hand. “Get your stuff. We’ll stop by the cell store after we feed the ducks, and I’ll replace your phone.”

There’s no point in arguing with him. My phone is dead, and he won’t lend me his.

“Come on, Cassidy. You ready?” I grab the day-old bread I’ve been saving for this and stuff it into my purse.

As we’re walking out, Nick places a hand on the small of my back. The simple touch causes all my nerve endings to jingle in excitement. He bends down, his mouth only a fraction away from the top of my ear. “I’m not doing this to hurt Charlie. I want her to be happy, same as I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy,” I tell him as I watch my pride and joy skip-hop to the elevator. “I have Cassidy.”

His hand tightens briefly and then falls away. “I want you to be happier.”

The loss of his touch sends a pang of loneliness through me, but the ache in my gut has more to do with fear than anything else. I’ve tried to be content with what I’ve had because each time I’ve reached for more, my hands have been brutally smacked. A girl can only go through so much before she learns that settling is a fine way to live.

Isn’t it?

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