44. A Field Day
44
A FIELD DAY
Layla
A frog valiantly tries to cross the street, hopscotching past trucks on the screen as festive retro arcade noises beep from the Frogger console.
I’ve arrived early at Cosmo’s in the Village for the Saturday lunch I set up with David, so I’m at a booth, watching the door like a hawk as someone plays the retro arcade game nearby. But the frog pancakes, dying a pixelated death on the arcade screen.
I don’t want to be the frog today with David. I twist the skulls on my fingers as I wait. I’m not usually fidgety. But waiting for David has nerves flying under my skin.
The last time I was here, he told me about the woman he fell for.
Now, we’re going to talk about how I banged his pops.
Fun times.
I twist the rings some more, but the motion does nothing to settle my worries. I pop in my earbuds and turn to Ethan’s newest tune. He sent “Blown Away” to Harlow and me, and I can’t stop listening to it. But right when my friend’s beautiful baritone threatens to break my heart, David steps into the doorway of the shop, scanning the room for me.
I hit stop so fast, then with an I fucked up smile, I wave to him.
I brace myself since I can’t read his barometer. Especially when he gives me a chin nod, then strides over to me. A chin nod is not a smile.
“Hey, Mayweather,” he says as he reaches me, and I’m not sure if I should hug him, so I don’t pop up. I want to respect his need for space if he needs it.
“Hey, Bancroft,” I say. Or maybe I squeak it.
He slides into the booth across from me. But before he can say a word, I dive headfirst into the most important thing. “How’s Cynthia? She gets out tomorrow, right?”
“She does,” he says, like he’s proud of her. “And she got your self-care basket the other day and pretty much jumped out of bed.”
“That’s great. Not the jumping, but that she liked it,” I say. I sent her a gift—some candles, face masks, makeup, and yummy lotion.
“She said she didn’t know what half of the makeup brushes were for,” he adds.
Shit. Does that mean I picked a stupid gift and she secretly hated it?
“Oh. I hope that wasn’t a bad?—”
“She really liked it. And I like that you sent it to her.”
That’s good, but I don’t feel like we’re making real progress.
He’s quiet, and I can’t tell where we stand or even where he wants to stand. Especially when he’s studying the menu board on the wall like he’s never been here before. I can barely tolerate the awkward and it’s only been a minute.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, turning back to me at the same time I blurt out, “I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. I miss our friendship and our jokes and our teasing, and I really want to find a way to get it back. What can I do to make things right?”
He startles. “Oh.”
“Oh?”
“I mean,” he says, then scratches his jaw, furrows his brow. “Actually, I’m okay with everything.”
I lean forward, my eyes popping. “You are?”
“I figure it’ll be awkward, like the last few minutes were. But I think I get it, Layla.”
“You do?” Color me shocked.
The corner of his mouth hooks into a grin. “Well, you clearly have a type.”
Then he lets his grin widen like he caught me at something—liking Bancroft/Adams men.
I laugh, too. “Maybe I do.”
He reaches across the table and ruffles my hair. “Listen, we don’t have to rehash what happened. That shit was hard to do with my dad. I was a little exhausted and wrung out after I talked to him. And I decided I don’t want to stay pissed at people. Especially people I love. There are too many other shitty things in the world. There are animals who need homes, and people who are starving, and a planet that needs saving. And you ,” he says, pointing at me. “You helped me plan a fundraiser for something that matters deeply to me. What kind of asshole would I be if I was annoyed at you for liking my dad?”
My heart balloons until it hardly fits in my chest. And I’m not sure there’s much more to say, other than, “Thank you.”
“No,” he says, emphatic. “Thank you. You did all of that—you hosted it, you helped. There’s no list of grievances.” Then he sighs, long and pointed. “I mean, besides the fact that you cheated on me. But it’s all in the family so I can accept it.”
I laugh harder. “I’m so relieved.”
He looks to the board with hunger in his eyes. “Want to eat and then come with me to see my girl?”
“I’d love to.”
When we’re done, he grabs a sandwich to go for Cynthia, just like Nick has done for him in the past. I hide my private smile. He’s so much like his father in his love language.
On our way, he stops outside Cosmo’s, his expression suddenly stern. “But let’s just make one thing clear.”
Solemnly, I nod, ready for whatever he wants from me. “Anything.”
“When you marry him, I’m going to have a field day calling you stepmom.”
There’s too much to unpack there, so I zoom in on one thing. “Sure, stepson . Feel free.”
At the hospital, I meet his girlfriend for the first time, and she’s a total sweetie. In short, she’s perfect for him.
She gestures to the makeup brushes. “Now, can you show me how all this stuff works?”
“I definitely can,” I say, and spend the next hour doing her makeup.