CHAPTER NINE
KNOX
The parking lot is packed when we get to the store. Which means inside is going to be so much worse.
But we’re here on a mission for ice cream, so I don’t waste time dwelling on the amount of people who could potentially recognize me and get out of the truck so I can get the door for the girls before Kenley beats me to it.
“Any idea what happened to my baseball cap?” I ask her as she’s climbing out. I didn’t see it anywhere up front. “I had it in my pocket last night, in case I needed it at Denny’s, but the place was pretty empty, so I never put it on.”
She looks back across the rear bench for a minute, then bends down. A second later, she pops up again, waving the navy-blue hat and red brim in my face. “This one?”
“That’s the one.”
She hands it over. “It was under the seat. Must have come out of your pocket on our way to the beach.”
“Does that really work?” Sloan asks, stepping in closer and crinkling her nose as she watches me put on the cap and try to fix the hair sticking out from under it, using the window as a mirror. “Do people really not recognize you just because you put on a hat?”
I reach in my breast pocket and pull out my shades. “I wear these too.” I grin. “Turns out, I’m a pretty average looking dude.”
Kenley makes a funny sound, like she thinks I’ve just said something ridiculous, but she doesn’t voice it.
Meanwhile, Sloan is still studying the results of my disguise. “Hm. I’m not so sure,” she says, finger pointed and making circles at the general direction of my face. “I can still tell it’s you and I’m not even a fan of your music.”
“Ouch.”
She laughs. “Sorry, I just meant, you know...” she tries to explain.
“That I’m old and my music isn’t cool. Yeah, I know what you meant,” I tease her back.
“No!” But she’s laughing too hard now to be believable.
“Come on. Let’s get that ice cream before I act my age and suggest we get you some breakfast instead.” I usher her away from the truck and down the sidewalk leading to the front doors.
Sloan doesn’t need to be told twice. She’s quick to skip ahead, still giggling as she goes.
I shake my head, chuckling to myself when I feel Kenley slide her palm into mine, and turn toward her.
“Thank you,” she mouths the words.
I nod. I can’t even say ‘you’re welcome’ because that would make what I did special or extra or out of the ordinary, and it wasn’t. From here on out, it’s what I want her to expect. What I want her to know as normal.
Her gaze moves from mine to look forward. Sloan’s just a few steps ahead, but she keeps turning back to check on us too. It’s crazy how much she looks like her mama, and I can’t help but smile, taking in the sight of them both.
As soon as we’re inside, Sloan slows her steps and stays closer to us. It’s a fucking mad house in here.
“I’m going to call you ‘Dad’,” Sloan whispers. “That way even if people do think you look like you, they’ll think you can’t be because you don’t have a kid.” She grins, like she just came up with a foolproof disguise, certainly one superior to my hat and sunglasses. It is kind of brilliant.
“Sounds like a plan.” I try to look at Kenley without making it obvious. The last thing I want is for her to have second thoughts about removing the boundaries she keeps around her kid and letting me in. But she doesn’t seem bothered by our little scheme to hide my identity at all.
“You going to call me your husband?” I tease under my breath.
“Not for ice cream,” she deadpans. “A ring, a real proposal, and some vows...maybe.”
“Oh, yeah?” I can feel my whole face light up at the thought.
She just shakes her head and laughs. “Let’s just go with the ice cream for now.”
“Okay,” I agree, letting her lead me down the freezer aisle. “For now.”
“Dad!” Sloan calls out, louder than ordinarily necessary. “Can I get two?”
“No.” I know it’s all pretend. I know it is. But goddamn , I already feel like it’s real.
“Can we get a bottle of fudge?” she tries again, and I look to Kenley to make the call. Seeing as she’s the only true parent here.
“Will my answer affect your ice cream choice?” she asks, clearly having the insight required for this conversation which I stupidly thought was just about consuming as much sugar as possible.
“Yes.” Sloan steps back from the freezers far enough to point into two separate sections. “If we’re getting fudge, I want cookies and cream. But if not, then I’m getting the lemon sorbet.”
“We can get fudge,” her mom concedes, and Sloan literally does a little happy dance. Watching her, I almost forget the events that led us here this morning.
Kenley must have a similar reaction, because she suddenly looks as if she’s been drained of her life force, her shoulders go limp, her knees lock and her face tightens as if she’s fighting back feelings she knows all too well because she’s fought them off a million times before.
Without thinking, I reach my arm out for her and bring her to me until her head rests on my chest and I can wrap myself around her to steady her. I can hear her sigh the second I’ve engulfed her, and I can feel the darkness melt away as fast as it came.
When I look up, Sloan is watching.
Her eyes are filled with the same mix of old hurt, unexpected relief, and deep gratitude I saw in her mother’s a few minutes before in the parking lot. Then, just as her mom did, she mouths the words, ‘thank you’.
KENLEY
Once everyone has their ice cream, and we’ve grabbed a bottle of fudge, we swing by the soup station in the deli to grab three spoons before we get in line to cash out.
I notice Sloan makes it a point to call Knox ‘Dad’ at least seven more times before we’re finally walking out into the parking lot, and I can’t help but worry she’s making a habit of something she definitely shouldn’t be.
Not that I don’t understand the urge to just give into this feeling he seems to bring out in everyone.
At least everyone in my household. He fits so naturally, first with me, then with the dogs, and now with Sloan.
More than that, he’s easily filling a void we’ve been living with so long, I was just starting to come to terms with the fact it would always be with us, always empty.
“Can I have the fudge, please?” Sloan asks as soon as we’re back in the truck and settling in for our treat in the parking lot. I have to appreciate how random and not at all over the top this is.
“Here you go.” Knox twists in his seat to hand it to her. He’s back on the driver’s side. This time, I’m up front with him.
The next minutes pass mostly in silence while we each dig into our pints. Ice cream was a pretty perfect way to follow up the unpleasantness with my ex this morning.
“Hey!” Sloan pipes up, her wandering mind clearly having stumbled upon something. “Since I’m not hanging with Daddy today after all, do you think we could still go out on the boat with Uncle Devin?”
My little brother. Who towers over me by at least a foot. “I don’t know.” Once I declined the invite, I didn’t really bother to get more information. “I could call him and find out.” I look to Knox. “Would you be up for that?”
“Hell, yeah.” He points at my phone, still sitting in the cupholder where I put it on the way to my ex’s. “Make the call.”
I smile, slowly nodding. “Okay.” I guess we’re doing this.
As soon as I pick up my phone, I notice I have a slew of messages. Mostly from the same person. There’s one in there from Arizona I must have missed earlier. She made it home safe and sound.
I send her a quick thumbs up before I scan the rest. Ordinarily, I’d be in a panic, trying to smooth things over with Ebeneezer again. But there’s nothing remotely ordinary about today. So, I dismiss every last text for the moment and carry on with making that call to my brother.
“What’s up,” he answers two rings in.
“You out on the water yet?” I ask, trying to listen extra closely to see if I can make out where he’s at from his background noises. It’s pretty quiet though, which means he’s likely still on land.
“Just stopped at the gas station to pick up ice. Headed to the marina next. Why? You change your mind about coming?”
I take one last look around the cab of my truck. I already threw Sloan into the mix, why stop now? “As a matter of fact, we did. Turns out, Sloan’s sleepover at her dad’s ended early so we were hoping to still tag along.”
“Absolutely,” my brother confirms. “Just meet us there. We’ve got plenty of everything, so all you need to do is show up.”
“Awesome.” I take a breath. “Can I show up with a date?”
There’s a pause at the end of the line, and while my brother is prone to getting distracted while on the phone, I don’t think that’s what this is.
“Like, a date -date?” he asks a second later.
“I mean, not like we’re going on a date on your boat, but like he’s my plus one. Or plus two. Since Sloan’s my plus one. And he’s a he. Who will be there with me. Not looking to mingle.” Great. Now I’m rambling.
“So, like, you’re already dating,” my brother tries to summarize.
“Um, I’m not really sure we’re calling it that.”
Knox looks at me, trying to come across as stern but his mouth keeps giving way to a grin. “Do I need to talk to him? You sound like you’re having a hard time with this.”
I scowl, turning my head and thus my phone away from him. “I can do this,” I hiss.
“Doesn’t really sound like it,” Sloan chimes in dryly from the backseat.
“Look, just tell me you have room for three extra people on your boat and we’ll meet you at the marina,” I break it down to the basics for Devin.
“I’ve got room.” Even over the phone, I can hear him smirking.
“Great, we’ll see you there.” Then I hang up before I surrender to my compulsive need to overexplain everything again.
When I put my phone back into the cupholder in hopes of resuming my ice cream consumption, I find both Knox and Sloan staring at me. “What?”