Page 148 of Biggest Player
I rub my temples, feeling the tension in my shoulders mounting. “I know, I know. But I didn’t expect things to blow up like this. Can you at least tell me what she’s thinking?”
She crosses her arms, giving me a scrutinizing look that makes me feel about two inches tall.
“How the heck would I know what she’s thinking? She doesn’t talk about you, but there are signs.” Her little voice takes on an ominous tone as she dramatically tosses her ponytail.
Trying not to take offense at this tiny, formidable person, I see the wheels turning in her brain.
“You know how she’s been really stressed about work?” She has? I did not know that. “Maybe you could help her with something she doesn’t like doing. Like, if she has a bunch of papers to grade or something, offer to help out. I do it all the time.”
“I am not going to help Margot grade papers, good God, that would be a disaster.”
Wyatt scrunches her face in concentration; then her expression brightens again as she comes up with another idea.
“Oh! You could make a card. A real one with, like, drawings and stuff. You don’t have to be fancy, just make it look like you put some effort into it. And use stickers. I always do, and shelovesthem.”
I chuckle, appreciating the simplicity of her suggestions. “A card? That’s actually not a bad idea.”
I rub my chin and Wyatt rubs hers.
“Have you said you’re sorry yet?”
“Yeah, a bunch of times, but this is more about trust, and I don’t know how to get her to trust me when I fuc—when I screwed up so bad.”
Margot’s daughter tilts her head and looks up at me. “What’d you do exactly?”
Let’s see, how do I put this in a way this kid can understand?
“Um. A guy told me that dating your mom would be a good idea, instead of me just trusting my own gut and making the decision by myself.”
Wyatt squints up at me. “How old are you?”
“Uh—twenty-five.”
“Dude, why are you letting other grown-ups tell you what to do? Adults are supposed to adult.”
How is she so wise? And why is she calling medude?
“Because I’m a dumbass.”
Her nod is sage. “Yeah, I can see that.” She pats me on the arm to comfort me.
Once again, she’s insulted me, but I deserve it. No one wants a child agreeing with them when one calls oneself a dumbass, but here we are. This is my life now, I guess.
“You’re cool, do you know that?” I tell her. I’ve never met a kid like this, not that I’ve met many kids—not including the children that have come to meet and greets with their parents.
Another nod. “I get that all the time.”
I laugh, surprised at her candor. What a little shit.
A cool little shit, but a shit nonetheless.
“So to recap,” I begin. “You think the only way to get back into your mom’s good graces is to make her a card and do something nice for her, like grade papers?”
“It’s a start.”
“What’s something I can do now? Right now?”
We both turn our heads to see Margot exiting the bathrooms. She’s brushing her hair back and wiping her hands on the fabric of her jean shorts.
