Page 86 of Old Fashioned
“Is it because you and Jordan broke up?”
Shock zipped through me, and I couldn’t hide the expression on my face as I pulled back to look at my daughter.
“Come on, Mom,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Did you really think I didn’t know?”
I covered my smile with my hand, amused. “Knowwhat, exactly?”
“That you and Jordan are boyfriend and girlfriend, but that you thought you were hiding it from me and everyone else. But, I’m smart, Mom. I see the way he looks at you.”
“And what way is that?”
“Like helooooovesyou,” she said, drawing out the word and tapping my nose with her fingertip. We both giggled, and then she looked sad again. “But he hasn’t been here all week, and you haven’t been sleeping, and I knew something was wrong when you guys were acting weird at the game yesterday. You broke up, didn’t you?”
I sighed, but nodded, deciding it was no use to hide it from her now.
“Why, Mama? I like Jordan. I like having him here with us. He’s nice, and we play football, and he was nice to you, too, wasn’t he?”
My heart squeezed in my chest, and I let out another breath, trying to find the words to explain it to her, all the while trying to digest the words my sister had said tome. But before I could figure it all out, there was a loud, pounding knock at the front door — so loud we heard it all the way through the house and out the back door.
Then, a muted voice from around the other side of the house.
“Open up, Syd. It’s me.”
“Daddy?” Paige looked at me, surprised, before she jumped off my lap and sprinted through the house to the front door.
When I caught up to her, my heart stopped altogether.
She was looking up at where Randy stood on the porch, telling him how we’d made pancakes that morning to celebrate the big win, but I couldn’t take my eyes off my ex-husband. He was a complete disaster — his hair sweaty and matted to his forehead, eyes bloodshot, hands trembling where he patted our daughter’s head with an affectionate smile.
He’d been drinking, or worse, and when his eyes met mine, I knew without a doubt that he’d come looking for a fight.
“Paigey, why don’t you go make a pancake for your dad, huh?” I asked her, smiling and smoothing down her wild curls as she grinned up at me.
“Okay!” she said, and bounded past me and back into the kitchen.
I narrowed my eyes at Randy then, standing in the doorway so he knew he wasn’t invited in. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“It’s my fucking house.”
I ignored my urge to argue that point. “What do you want?”
“You know what I want,” he seethed back, and then his eyes traveled the length of my body in my thin pajamas.
I crossed my arms over my chest in disgust.
“You’re drunk,” I whispered, careful as to not let Paige hear. “Go sleep it off.”
“I talked to your boyfriend last night.”
I stilled at that, and Randy’s grin grew even more wicked where it grew on his ashen face.
“Oh yeah, we had agreatlittle chat at the high school after he’d unloaded the bus. You see, when I saw the way you were looking at him on the field, when I started putting the pieces together from everything Paige had been saying about him, I knew something was up.” He shook his head, as if he pitied me. “You were at his brother’swedding, Sydney. I’m not stupid.”
“It’s none of your business who I date.”
“Funny,” he said on a laugh. “That’s what Jordan said, too. But healsosaid that you guys broke up.” He tilted his head at that. “And you know, it got me thinking… what has our poor daughter been subjected to all this time that I’ve been gone? First, being allowed to play football — a dangerous sport, mind you — without her father’s consent. And her mother bringing strange men around… sleeping with them in our home… going through toxic breakups…”
I moved to slam the door in his face and dismiss him, but his hand caught it quickly, and he stepped a foot over the threshold, his nose inches from mine.
