Page 85 of Delicate Storm

“Paige.”

“Paige?” My voice is louder than I planned for it to be, and Paige pauses before spinning around to face us. And when she spots Isaac waving her way, a warm smile lights up her features, gutting me in the chest. With her smile still locked in place, her eyes lift to mine before she slowly walks over, perhaps giving me the chance to escape the situation. We haven’t directly spoken about Isaac, but I’m sure she knows he’s the reason I’m holding back from us. And while I should be mad about the fact that they clearly know each other—and on a first-name basis—I’m not.

It feels oddly comforting to know there’s someone else in this building that cares about him.

Isaac tugs on my arm until I walk with him, but when we reach Paige, he shies away, trying to hide behind my leg. Unsurprisingly though, Paige doesn’t let him. It seems to be her thing.

“Hi Isaac. How are you?” She squats down to his level, peeping around my legs to see him.

Isaac nods his head, but otherwise remains silent.

“I like your sneakers,” she says as she keeps trying. “Are you going out with your dad?”

At that, Isaac’s confidence returns. His mom bought him new shoes—with my credit card—and it’s like he’s never been given a present before.

“They’re red and Mom says that will make me go faster. Like this. Zoom. Zoom.” He runs to the door of the restaurant and back again like he has super speed, and Paige laughs, but not before giving me a sympathetic smile.

“I think she’s right,” Paige says, her face scrunching when Isaac glances away. “You were so fast I couldn’t see you at one point.”

“Really?” He smiles so wide it’s infectious. “Was I, Dad?”

“You sure were, Buddy. I thought we’d lost you.”

Isaac shakes his head and reaches out to grab my hand. “Don’t worry, Dad. I wouldn’t go away. Never.”

My smile internally drops but on the outside it remains strong, hiding my true feelings. And the truth is that I’m breaking for him. His mind shouldn’t “worry” like that. At his age he shouldn’t even know the feeling of someone disappearing. But he does. All too well. And I hate that for him.

And I hate that she keeps sucking him back in. Buying his love when he’s too young to know better. I want Macy to fuck up, but at the same time, I don’t. I know what it’s like to grow up in a broken home. Especially one where the party that walks out never fully gives their kids the love and attention they deserve. Like my dear ole dad. Keeley may have forgiven our father, but I haven’t. I was only a year older than Isaac when Mom had to go it alone. Raising us with barely any help except the rare pop-in visits and minimum child support. Keeley and my older sister Addison accepted it easily, claiming they loved the second birthdays and Christmases—the only time he ever showed up. But I just wanted my dad.

They were at school when he left. And Mom never cried around them. I was home. And whether she thought I was tooyoung to remember or too busy playing with my toys, she was wrong on both counts. I heard it. And I‘ve never forgotten.

I will never put Isaac through that.

Over the last month, Macy’s only visited once and called twice. It’s not enough. I’m giving her another couple of months to get her shit together and then I’m seeking legal advice. I’m not naive; I know the courts usually side with the mother. But a little part of me hopes it will be too much effort for her and she’ll give up the fight. She’s never been big on commitment.

Paige asks Isaac if he thinks her red-soled stilettos are as fast as his new ones, changing the subject, and I smile when he laughs out loud. “No.” He covers his face with his hand. “They’re not like mine.”

“You’re right. I think I need to get some red sneakers.”

“Dad can take you.” Isaac straightens on the spot, the excitement obvious in his stance. “He said he knows where Mom got them.”

“Oh, really?” Paige stands tall, hitting me with a mischievous grin. “Do you think you can help me?”

I don’t have to look to know Isaac’s expectant eyes are gazing up at me, waiting for a response. I can feel it. But what the hell do I say to that? And why is Paige playing with fire?

“I think they only sell kids’ shoes,” I say as a buffer, knowing neither Isaac nor Paige will let me get away with that response, but at least it gives me a second to come up with another excuse.

Deep down, I know Paige is joking. But even so, I’m not ready to joke about us yet. Even now we shouldn’t really be talking to each other. Her dad lives in this building, and I know some of the guys frequent the restaurant here. We’re on dangerous ground.

“That’s too bad,” Paige says, instead of calling me out like I expected her to do. “I’ll have to keep an eye out when I’m shopping. In the meantime, I don’t mind you beating me in a race.”

“Do you want to race?” Isaac asks, arms locked, ready to take off.

Paige bursts out laughing at the same time Isaac does, and the sound is so beautiful it warms me. My heart bleeds for how badly I want Isaac to bethishappy all the time.

My phone buzzes in my hands and I realize the time. “We have to get going, Buddy,” I say reluctantly. “We’ll miss the movie if we don’t leave now.”

Isaac pouts until I remind him what we’re going to see and then he’s tugging on my arm again, ready to go in the opposite direction.

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