Page 125 of Lost in Love

Have you seen the movieGone Girl?

I have and it’s fucking disturbing. I don’t know why but that entire movie is replaying in my head, and I’m thinking maybe I should check the bank account and credit cards or see if she’s hiding shit in the garage I don’t know about to set me up for her murder.

Downstairs, Noah’s in the living room watching his iPad and Callan’s still at the table, his magazine in his hand. “Hey, buddy, I’m gonna take you to soccer practice.”

I’m pretty sure this is the first time he’s ever heard these words out of my mouth because his eyes widen in surprise. “I’m not in the mood for jokes.”

Me either, dude.

I’m expecting him to be excited or at least show some sort of emotion.

He does neither.

He’s so much like me it’s ridiculous. I give a nod to the garage. “I’m not joking, let’s go.”

“Oh yeah?” Setting down his magazine, he looks at me, a hint of smugness set on his six-year-old face. It’s rather alarming how well he can pull said look off. “Do you even know where my practice is at?”

I play it cool. “Of course I do, but the question is, do you know?”

He rolls his eyes, clearly not amused with me. He and his mother have something in common. “It’s at the community center.”

“Well then, let’s go.” I hold my keys up. “What time do you have to be there?”

You know those looks you get when someone stares blankly at you, and for a split second, you feel kind of dumb? It’s like being back in school and you were talking in class but the teacher called on you, and you’re left wondering what the right answer is?

Well, that’s me.

Callan, he’s the teacher right now and the look I’m getting, if he had a ruler in his hand, he’d probably slap it to my forehead.

“Practice starts at four.”

I glance at my phone. “We better go.”

Mostly because I have no idea where the community center is, and it’s going to take me a while to find it.

Okay, let’s just stop for a moment because I can see the judgmental look on your face. You think I’m a bad father, don’t you?

I’m not, I swear. I love Callan. I just don’t have a lot of time and going to soccer practice I didn’t know he even had wasn’t one of the many things I had to get done on any given day.

Just as we’re by the door to the garage, Madison comes downstairs like nothing happened and hands Callan his cleats with Noah on her hip as she’s struggling to get the jogging stroller out of the garage. “Bye, baby. Have fun tonight.”

“I will, Mommy.” They hug and then Callan glances at me. I kiss Madison good-bye every time I leave, and you know, this timewon’tbe any different.

Stepping toward her with a smile, I can tell she wants to back up. Her eyes say “fuck you” while her body language remains relaxed in front of the kids.

Drawing her into a hug, I kiss her flat on the lips with intention. Christ, she fucking hates me. Do you see the way her body turns rigid like a corpse? When I pull back, I whisper in her ear, “We’re talking about this tonight,” because she needs to know I’m not letting this go.

Noah pushes me away about a foot still clinging to Madison. “No, Daddy.”

Madison’s lips press together in a tight line, and her expression turns serious. Her muscles tense, but she says nothing and smiles down at Noah and Callan who are watching us curiously. It’s not often Callan acts his age, but he is right now, innocent looking and probably sensing more than we want him to.

“See my boys tonight,” Madison says, untangling herself from me. She wants to punch me in the face. I can see it.

But Callan doesn’t move, his stare fixated on his mom. “What are you going to do, Mommy?”

She getsMommy,and I get called by my first name?

Madison kneels to his level, straightening out his tank top. With the garage door open, the afternoon sun shines down on her dark hair making the hint of caramel highlights shimmer. She touches the side of his face when she says, “I’m gonna take Noah for a run while Daddy takes you. Is that okay?”

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