Page 3 of Under My Skin

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CAMERON

“Fuck!”I yell, scrambling to block the water shooting out of the pipe as fast as I can. It’s erupting like a fire hydrant, and my mind goes blank for a minute just watching it. I contemplate letting it flood the bathroom and calling it a day on the remodel.

“Fuck!” I scream even louder this time, but it’s more out of frustration than surprise. I quickly run down the stairs of my childhood home and outside to turn off the main water line, suddenly questioning every decision I’ve made in the past several months.

Scratch that. At the moment, I’m thinking about every single thing I’ve done in my life and trying to figure out how I ended up here as I rub my hands down my face.

With a heavy sigh, I bring my hands down and uncover my eyes only to find two sets, the same color as mine, staring right back at me. There’s a mix of concern and laughter on their faces, and I’m pretty sure they’re wondering if this is when I’ll finally reach my breaking point.

There have been a lot of these moments in the last year. More than I want to admit in the last month alone.

“Sorry, girls. Daddy said a bad word, and we don’t want to repeat the bad words Daddy says when he gets upset. Okay?” I use whatever telepathic powers I may possess to plead with their little minds to please let this go and not turn it into a fifteen-minute explanation of why or why not they shouldn’t do certain things.

“Okay, Daddy,” both girls say in unison.

Thank God.

It’s only then I realize that they’re outside with me when they should’ve been inside and that they’re covered in mud. Some dry and caked on and some very fresh and wet. I take a deep breath and try to center myself so I can tackle this without losing it. God, my sanity is hanging on by a thread right now.

I open my eyes and kneel in front of them so we’re eye level.

“Girls,” I say slowly and calmly, reining in all my frustration. It’s not their fault. “Daddy told you to stay in the living room and watch TV while he worked upstairs in the bathroom for a little while. Remember?” I’m met with complete silence. It’s as if I’m speaking another language, and it just doesn’t register with them.

Mackenzie, my six-year-old, looks down at her feet, while Addy, my four-year-old, flashes me her cheesiest smile.Damn, they’re cute.I look at them, suddenly worried. “Girls? What happened?”

“Nothing happened, Daddy. We got bored watching TV, so we came outside to make mud pies,” Addy replies. I can’t help but admire the honesty of a four-year-old and their lack of reading the room.

Mackenzie finally makes eye contact with me and sweetly mutters, “Sorry,”under her breath. I can’t even be mad at them. Their lives haven’t exactly been fun and games the past few weeks. Organizing a funeral and moving back home has left little time and attention for the two little girls standing in front of me.

“It’s fine, girls. Just remember to ask next time. I don’t want you playing outside unsupervised. You guys can get hurt. Living on a farm is a lot different from living in the city.”

“But we weren’t unsupervised, Daddy. That nice lady from Grandpa’s funeral said hi to us and has been sitting over there watching us.” Mackenzie turns and points at my neighbor’s yard.

I see little Lizzie Montgomery sitting under the big oak tree between our houses and send her a wave as she starts to walk over. The thing is…She isn’t so little anymore. She is a full-fledged woman. That particular realization knocked me on my ass when I saw her for the first time in a long time a few weeks ago.

The Lizzie I remember was a teenager. All gangly limbs and braces. I remember her hanging out with my sister Morgan every once in a while. Two braids in her hair and baggy overalls covered in paint or something. She hadn’t even graduated high school the last time I saw her.

Scratch that. I actually saw her when I came back home before Mackenzie was born. I was feeling a lot of pressure about becoming a dad, and Renee and I were not on the same page when it came to life in general. I needed to get back to my roots and be with my dad. Get some advice and reset before the next chapter of my life began. Lizzie had just graduated high school, I think, and was helping her parents with something outside. I remember thinking she had grown up overnight and that so much had changed while I was away.

She was beautiful then—she’s even more beautiful now.

She’s a stunning woman that I can’t help but steal glances at whenever I can. Her all-natural beauty is sexy, with subtle curves, full lips, and pretty brown hair. And freckles. She’s covered in the cutest fucking freckles I’ve ever seen.

It’s like she doesn’t know how jaw-droppingly gorgeous she is, though. She’s so down-to-earth and humble in the way she carries herself, something I’m not used to anymore considering my lifestyleandex-wife.

Enjoying the view is as far as I can let it go. I have no business thinking about someone ten years younger than me. Plus, I don’t have room in my life for a woman. I’m barely staying above water as it is.

“Thanks for keeping an eye on them, Lizzie. I hadn’t realized they were outside. They know better than to do that,” I say once she’s reached my yard, looking down at my girls, trying to defend my parenting for some reason. It’s painfully obvious to everyone that I’m holding my life together by a thread right now.

“No problem, Cameron. It was fun watching them cover themselves in mud. Took me back to my childhood days. I used to love doing that.” She laughs, the sound melodic and comforting.

It’s almost as if she heard my thoughts and said that last part to remind me she isn’t a little kid anymore. Like I need a reminder. Tempting me to make a move. As if I could.

“Fuck me.”

The girls giggle and smile big, and Lizzie gives me an awkward grin, like she isn’t quite sure what’s going on.

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