Theo
I slid scrambled eggs onto a plate before grabbing toast from the toaster. Everything was perfect—fresh fruit, eggs, turkey bacon, whole grain toast, orange juice. Today was Scout’s first day of school, and I couldn’t let anything fuck it up.
Resting my hands on my hips, I glanced at the ceiling.
She’d holed herself up in her bedroom since we got back from Dockside a few nights ago.
I didn’t realize she would get so upset about the party—it wasn’t like it was happening that night.
But she was upset, and when Mom found her, she’d been crying.
And I just didn’t understand it.
I didn’t understand what I was doing wrong, how to fix it, or what to do to make her happy. It seemed like everything I did, everything I bought her, just made her more and more upset.
The floorboards creaked, and I let out a breath. At least she was awake.
Seeing Brynne was torture. She’d looked incredible in her dress, which was nothing new. But I couldn’t look at her without remembering the way I’d felt on my balcony the night before, without feeling my blood turn to lava in my veins.
I kept telling myself it was because I hadn’t slept with anyone in months. It wasn’t that I wanted Brynne ; I just wanted anyone . And if she was looking for someone to sleep with, then why not me?
But I held myself back because it would make things messy. She was Trin’s best friend, and I didn’t want to ruin anything between them.
It was fucking hard, though. Especially when those pictures on her profile were the worst kind of cockteases.
A ding sliced through the air, pulling me out of my thoughts about Brynne, and I grabbed my phone.
I grinned at the email. My new car would be delivered soon.
Before we moved, Mom told me I needed a car of my own, so I got in touch with one of Archer’s friends, and he set me up with the perfect car.
I couldn’t be more excited.
Something creaked at the entrance of the kitchen, and I whirled around, shoving my phone in my pocket. Scout stood in the doorway, her backpack slung over her shoulder, her hair braided to the side, a dark green hoodie and a pair of baggy jeans on.
“I made breakfast,” I blurted. Her eyes flicked to the counter, to the plate filled with food.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. You must be hungry.” She shook her head in response, and I sighed. “I packed your lunch.”
“Is it normal food?” she asked, her voice low and tight.
“ This ”—I gestured to the food before me—“is normal food.”
“ This ”—she mimicked my movements—“is not. The bread isn’t even bread?—”
“It’s sprouted whole-grain?—”
“Not. Even. Bread.” She folded her arms across her chest, leveling me with a look. “Can’t you get Pop-Tarts or Toaster Strudel—anything normal?
I stared at her in disbelief. “You want that stuff? It’s so bad for you.”
“It tastes better than this—” She flicked her fingers like she was genuinely disgusted.
Reaching up, I pinched between my brows. I couldn’t win. Give her healthy food, she complained. Give her the food she wanted, and suddenly I was the worst parent in the world.
“Fine.” I let out another sigh. “I’ll get you Pop-Tarts?—”
“Before or after the party?” she shot back, and I blinked.
“What? I’ll get them today while you’re at school.”
Her lips twisted to the side as she glared at me. How was I so thoroughly fucking everything up?
“I was going to talk to you about it, Scout,” I said gently.
“You weren’t going to tell me anything until the day of the party.”
“That’s not true.”
I was going to tell her with enough time for her to invite her friends from New York, and for her to get an outfit, not that I thought she’d want new clothes for it. But the offer would be there.
“This is as much your home as it is mine.” I stepped around the island, and she stepped back, putting more distance between us. It stung, the way she was so careful to never come too close. “If you’re uncomfortable with the party, we won’t have it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.” I ran my fingers through my hair, my eyes burning as I stared at her. “I’m trying here, Scout.”
We stared at each other. I waited for her to say something, anything .
“I just want to go home,” she muttered, turning toward the door.
Annoyance welled inside me so suddenly, so quickly, I didn’t have time to bite my tongue. “And you think I don’t?” She froze, her shoulders bunching. “You think I like living here? That I’m happy to be back in my hometown like some loser?”
“Then why did we move?” she shouted, whirling around. Her eyes— my eyes—burned with so much pain it took my breath away. “Why did you make me come here?”
“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing!” I squeezed my eyes shut and forced a deep breath in.
“That much is obvious.”
My throat tightened, tears burning the backs of my eyes. Slowly, I let my lids open, and I stared at her.
“I lost everything, Scout. My entire life is different now. I don’t know?—”
“What about me?” she screamed, her chin wobbling. The rest of my words died on my tongue. “ I lost everything, Theo. Not you. So, what? You had to move closer to your family—at least you have that. My family is six-feet under in some cemetery I can’t even visit.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I rasped, taking another step toward her. She plastered her back to the wall behind her.
“I wish I never met you.”
I clenched my jaw. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I wish you hadn’t either.”
I wished her mom was still alive. I wished she was happy. I wished she never had to feel this pain.
We stared at each other again. Her chest heaved as she fought her emotions, blinking back tears. I wanted her to break, to cry, to scream. Anything that would make her feel better.
But she didn’t.
A sudden honk cut through the tension, and her shoulders lifted to her ears.
“That’s probably Trinity,” I said softly.
What was I supposed to say now? What did I do now?
She couldn’t miss her first day of school, even if everything inside me was saying let her stay home.
I shook myself. She had to go. “You’re okay with her taking you?
” She nodded, her throat bobbing. “Demi will pick you up this afternoon.” Another nod.
It looked like she wanted to say something else, but she didn’t. Turning on her heel, she rushed from the kitchen, leaving the breakfast and lunch I made her on the counter.
The automatic doors slid open, and a rush of cool air greeted me as I slid my sunglasses onto the top of my head. It had been a long time since I’d been to Sunny Lane Grocers. I’d worked here when I was sixteen and hadn’t stepped foot in the place in nearly twenty years.
It looked exactly the same.
Smelled exactly the same.
Just like everything else in Cedar Ridge.
“I need to grab some soil from the back,” Mom said as she pulled out a shopping cart. “Do you want to split up or come with me?”
“Divide and conquer.” I watched as she pushed the cart toward me, and flicked my gaze her way, confused.
“You’ll need it for shopping.”
“I’m only getting one thing. A box of Pop-Tarts.”
She leveled me with a look as she grabbed a cart for herself. “Scout is growing. I promise you those Pop-Tarts will be gone tonight . Get…a little of everything.”
“Everything?” I repeated as she started toward the gardening section. “Like what?”
“What did you like to eat when you were a kid?” she asked. “Just get that.”
“That’s—that’s not an answer. I haven’t been a kid in like, thirty-years.”
She just laughed—actually laughed . Before I could say anything else, an older man stopped to talk to her.
“A little of everything,” I repeated under my breath. “Alright.”
The wheel on the cart wobbled and squeaked as I made my way through the store. Heads turned my direction, all staring at me and my obnoxious cart. Could Mom have chosen a louder, more attention drawing one?
Quickly, I glanced at the watch on my wrist. It was only ten, which meant Scout had only been in school for two hours, yet it felt like an eternity. How was she doing? Did she hate it? Was she making friends?
Not knowing was killing me. I knew she wouldn’t answer those questions when she got home, though. She’d probably hole herself up in her room, pretend like I didn’t exist, just like she did every night.And after this morning, I deserved it.
I turned down the cereal aisle and froze. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sterile glow over the endless sea of rainbow-colored sugar bombs. A man stood at the other end of the aisle, a baby in his cart chewing on a toy giraffe.
Frosted Flakes, Froot Loops, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Lucky Charms…how the hell was I supposed to know what Scout would actually eat? Did she just like sugar , or did she have a preference?
Sighing, I flexed my fingers before reaching for the Frosted Mini Wheats. Would she like this one? It used to be my favorite in college, but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten cereal.
I sighed. This was ridiculous. I was making a bigger deal out of this than I needed to—I knew that. But it was so damn hard.
I didn’t want to fuck up.
The man beside me cooed at his baby, making him laugh. My throat tightened.
What was Scout like at that age?
I shook myself, roughly clearing my throat.
“Uh—I’m sorry to bother you,” I said, my voice too loud as I stepped toward him.
He jolted and turned around, his dark brows bunching.
His brown hair curled around his ears, and his shirt had a weird stain on it.
Gray was beginning to peek out at his temples, and I subconsciously lifted my hand to my own, knowing mine mirrored his.
“I’m so in over my head here. Do your kids like this?
” I lifted the box of cereal, but that only made him look more confused.
“Shredded wheat? Does anyone actually like that?” He chuckled, and I bit my tongue to keep from telling him I did.
“So…what do kids like, then?”
“I mean, I love Lucky Charms,” he said. “Can’t go wrong with those. But Fruity Pebbles is a safe bet too.”
“Fruity Pebbles. Right. What else do they eat?”
He laughed. “You an uncle or something?”
“That’d be easier,” I muttered, pressing my lips into a smile. “My daughter just moved in with me, and I’m trying to figure out what she likes.”
He made an O with his mouth as if he understood. “How old is she?” he asked.
“Twelve.”
“Oof. My daughter is eleven,” he said. “I feel your pain.”
I turned toward him, my shoulders falling slightly. “How do you do it?” I asked on a breath.
“Do what?”
“Make her…like you?”
The corner of his mouth tucked up in a half smile. “They’re almost teenagers, man. They’re not supposed to like you.”
“Well, damn.” I huffed out a laugh, but it was too tight. Revealed too much.
“My daughter still loves fruit snacks and Nutella cookies. Maybe those will win you some points.”
“I think anything with the word fruit in it is off-limits.”
“Can’t go wrong with the cookies, then. They’re a few aisles over.” He paused for a moment, his head tilting to the side. “Wait. Are you Theo Caldwell?”
My stomach sank to my feet. “Yeah,” I said warily. Shit. Had I fucked this guy’s wife during a hometown visit?
Shit.
Shit .
“It’s Troy.” He pointed at his chest. “Troy Atkins. We played ball together in high school.”
I blinked, and everything came rushing back to me.
“Holy shit. Troy?” I laughed, stepping forward. He gave me a bro-hug, his eyes bright. “Man, I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“Yeah, you missed the last reunion.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “We saw you in a magazine a few years ago.”
I knew exactly what he was talking about.
The “Forty Under Forty” article in Architectural Digest. It was an article all about architects changing the game.
It was a total vanity piece, but I looked damn good in that spread.
Still, I felt weird knowing people from my hometown saw it.
That they likely laughed about it, passed it around the bar.
I pushed that thought away.
“So—” I gestured toward the baby in the cart, babbling to himself. “You have kids now.”
“Yeah, and an ex-wife who’d rather see me dead than with our children.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Shit, that was too much.”
“Newly divorced?”
“It was finalized a few months ago, and—” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “You know how it goes, man.” When I didn’t say anything, his brows rose. “You’re not divorced?”
“Uh, nope. Just found out I had a kid—it’s a long story.”
Interest filled his eyes. I knew he had a million questions and would likely spread the info everywhere, but I knew that would happen when I moved back. Privacy didn’t exist in a small town.
The baby made a sound bordering on a meltdown, and Troy glanced over his shoulder. “Look, if you ever want to hangout or grab drinks or something, let me know. Maybe we can go to The Taphouse.”
“Yeah, for sure,” I said. “Let me give you my cell.” He pulled his phone out, and I rattled off my number.
“See you around, man.” He lifted his hand in an awkward wave before pushing his cart away, leaving me standing awkwardly in the middle of the aisle.
Did I have a friend now?
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out, nearly rolling my eyes at the message.
TRIN:
Is Theo Caldwell seriously in the GROCERY STORE?
RONAN:
Why is that weird?
TRIN:
Because he’s Theo. He doesn’t do his own grocery shopping. He hires a peasant to do it
ME:
Did Mom tell you?
TRIN:
I can’t reveal my sources.
RONAN:
Yeah, Mom said you’re freaking out about snacks?
WILLOW:
Oh, I love snacks. Why are you freaking, Theo?
ME:
What do I get for Scout?
TRIN:
Literally anything with artificial dyes and white sugar
It’s not that hard, big big bro
I shoved my phone back in my pocket and tossed the Frosted Mini Wheats in the cart. For me, not Scout.
Fuck. Why was this so hard?
I grabbed four boxes of cereal and dropped them in the cart, and after going up and down every aisle, my cart was overflowing with processed foods. It would kill me, but it would make her happy.
I’d just force-feed her a vegetable at dinner and call it balance.
I knew this was all stupid. But as I pushed the cart toward the checkout, I kept picturing her walking into the kitchen and seeing it all.
Just once, I wanted her to look at me like I’d done something right.
Even if it was just cereal.
I rounded the corner, heading for the checkout. Of course, no one was in line. I didn’t know where Mom was, but I’d hunt her down when I was done. I glanced at the too -full cart.
If Scout hated it all…I didn’t know what I’d do.
Maybe eat everything out of spite.