Page 17 of Delay of Game
“It’s not. Thankfully, Rob took care of most of the shopping. I’m in charge of the important part: helping Ms. Mila pick out a school wardrobe. Can they wear princess dresses to class?”
“I had a boy who came in a Spiderman outfit for the entire first half of the year. Princess dresses are fine,” I laughed, the tension in my shoulders draining. I slipped into my car, keeping my eyes off the building in front of me.
“Good. She’d be devastated if she couldn’t dress up. But that wasn’t why I called. I called because I stopped by the hardware store the other day and made you a key for the studio.”
My brow furrowed. “A key?”
“Right, so you can drop by whenever.”
My heart skipped a beat, excitement building. I tamped it back down. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I told you, besides Rob and I, no one is using the pottery studio. I’d love for it to get more attention. You’d be doing me a favor. And with our schedule, well, it’d just be easier if you had a key. Unless you decided you don’t care for pottery? That wouldn’t hurt my feelings.”
“No,” I blurted out. “It’s not that. Rob doesn’t mind?”
“If you have a key to my studio? Frankly, that’s none of his business, but no, he doesn’t mind. Why don’t you swing by tomorrow evening and he can show you around?”
“Not you?” The question slipped out of my mouth.
“I have a hot date tomorrow, but I don’t want to hold you up. He’ll be happy to show you the ropes.”
I doubted Rob would be happy to show me around. He didn’t seem like much of a teacher, and despite the apology, I doubted he wanted to see me.
“I actually have a thing?—”
Gloria cut me off. “It’ll take ten minutes, tops. At least stop by and get the key so you can glaze your pieces. Trust me, once you get your first piece finished, you’ll be hooked. Let’s schedule a dinner on Sunday, too. I’ll give you an official tour with where you can find supplies and the cleaning checklist and all that?”
My mouth twisted into a frown. I didn’t have a plan. Didn’t have friends. Didn’t even work full time currently. “Yeah, that’d be great.”
“Dinner won’t be as decadent as last time. Rob is on his training meal plan, so roasted chicken and vegetables, but I’ll add in a dessert for us ladies. Say, five?”
“Should I bring something?” I asked, reeling.
“Your beautiful self. We’ll see you Sunday, and I’ll let Rob know to expect you tomorrow evening. Night, love!”
She hung up, and I lowered my head onto the steering wheel. Spending more time with Rob wouldn’t be bad. He’d apologized and probably would give me the bare minimum tour before leaving me alone. And an evening in the studio sounded nice.
I started the car and drove back to an empty house, glad for something to look forward to.
SEVEN
ROB
“DADDY!”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes, counting down from three before I opened them again. “Princess?”
“Where’s my dance outfit?” She stomped to the top of the stairs, glaring down at me, a unitard in hand.
“Are you holding it?”
Her eyes narrowed, mouth forming a line. A replica of my expression when someone asked me a dumb question. “It is not. This is my gymnastics outfit. I need my dancing outfit.”
I grabbed the banister, preparing to mount the stairs and wade into the knee-deep disaster of her room. At first, her toys and clothes and art were contained to her nursery and then they spilled into the second guest room. Then, the guest bathroom. The living room. Now, I could barely walk around my own house without tripping over dolls and hair ties and miniature unicorns. Mila’s manifest destiny of the house was nearly complete as Mom fled to her pottery studio and I built a brewery in the backyard.
“Did you check your dresser?”
Her look turned from annoyed to offended in a heartbeat. She clutched the unitard to her chest. “I looked everywhere.”
