28. A Family Feast
A Family Feast
C harlotte’s phone buzzes again on the table.
It’s been lighting up since we walked in the door, vibrating angrily. I glance over as she flips it facedown for the third time. It’s Beatrice, isn’t it?
“You okay?” I ask as Sadie chatters between bites of pizza, her legs swinging under the table. “I can take you home if you need to go.”
Charlotte brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “Nah. I’ll come up with a lie. I always do.”
I study her for a second longer. “You sure?”
The last thing I want is to get her into more trouble.
“I’m fine,” she says then adds with a little shrug, “Half of these are just notifications from TOP anyway.”
My muscles tense at the mention. “Really?” I ask, aiming for a casual tone. “How come?”
“Guess my fans are worried about my prolonged absence.”
Prolonged? How long has it been? And will it be permanent?
She spent years under her mom’s control, and I’m not about to be the guy who tells her to quit camming, but if we’re going to keep seeing each other, we’ll have to talk about it eventually. Set some boundaries. Figure out what makes sense for both of us.
She turns to Sadie, who’s barely stopped talking since we got home—first about the performance, then about the ice cream we got after, then about the park, where she made Charlotte push her on the swings way higher than I ever would have.
Charlotte, for her part, played along like a pro.
She cheered at every trick, gasped at every daring move, and let Sadie cling to her the entire walk home.
And now, even as we sit around the table, she’s still giving Sadie her full attention, nodding along as if this is the most fascinating story she’s ever heard.
“And then I did two spins on the bars,” Sadie says around a mouthful of cheese, beaming. “Did you see?”
“I did,” Charlotte says solemnly. “I don’t know how you didn’t get dizzy. That was some Olympic-level stuff.”
Sadie giggles, and I just sit back, watching them together.
“Lucy’s mom says you’re dating my daddy,” she says out of nowhere.
Charlotte, mid-sip of water, chokes so hard she nearly spits it out. Her eyes widen and she thumps a fist against her chest as if trying to force the water down.
“Shit,” she gasps, dropping her slice of pizza onto her plate.
“Daddy, she said a?—”
“I know, sweetheart.” I shoot Charlotte a look, a mix of amusement and warning, before turning back to Sadie. “Charlotte and I are friends, just like the two of you.”
Sadie frowns, as if dissecting my words. Then she shifts her gaze to Charlotte. “We’re friends?”
Charlotte dabs at her lips. “Sure we are. I let you pick the biggest slice.”
Sadie lifts her chin. “I need it more than you! I’m still growing.”
Charlotte laughs, a full, warm sound that seeps under my skin and settles there. She watches me as she bites into her slice, eyes bright and happy.
“So are you having dinner with us again?” Sadie asks between chews.
“Would that be okay with you?” Charlotte asks.
“Yes! Daddy smiles more.”
I grin, ruffling her hair before meeting Charlotte’s gaze. She playfully widens her eyes. “Hear that? Even your daughter thinks you have no poker face.”
“Ha-ha.”
“Daddy, can we watch Bluey after dinner?”
“Sure, sweetheart.”
Sadie picks up her crust and chews absentmindedly. I’m so proud of her, even though she dragged me onto a stage to embarrass myself. Today was hard for us, but Amelie was right. We made it. “Are you happy, love?”
She nods and points at the biggest slice of pizza still in the carton. “Dibs!”
Charlotte sets the slice on her plate as I say, “Last one. We don’t want you to get a tummy ache, huh?”
The doorbell rings just as I take a sip of my drink, so I set my glass down and push back my chair, then walk to the door.
The moment I open it, my breath catches in my throat.
Josie.
For a beat, I just stare at her. I should probably be annoyed she showed up here without warning, but all I feel is relief. She’s here. Finally , she’s going to see her daughter.
Before I can even find the words, Josie brings a finger to her lips, her eyes flicking past me toward the house. She gestures for me to step outside.
I hesitate, glancing over my shoulder, then step out and pull the door almost shut behind me.
She shifts on her feet, arms crossing over her chest like she’s bracing herself. “Hi. I...want to talk to you.”
If she wants to talk out here, it means Sadie’s not supposed to hear. Is it bad news? I don’t think I can take her saying she’s going back to rehab again. “Okay.”
“First of all, sorry for the ambush.” She takes a breath, looking down for a moment before meeting my gaze again. “But, uh...there’s a lot more I need to apologize for. Starting with what I said at the station.”
“Oh.” The memory of that argument is still fresh, but it’s the last thing I want her to apologize for. “Thank you, but?—”
“No, let me say it.” She holds up a hand.
“I have no right to tell you how to live your life. How to parent Sadie, when I wasn’t around to do it.
” A single tear spills over. “I never thanked you. Not once . You took care of our daughter when I couldn’t, and I never bothered to tell you how grateful I am for it. ”
A lump forms in my throat. “You don’t need to thank me, Josie. She’s Sadie. She’s the person I love the most in the world.”
“I never thanked you for that either.” She presses her eyes closed for a moment. “For being such an amazing, present dad.” She looks at her hands, then back up at me. “I know you didn’t do it for me, but...Sadie is the person I love the most too.”
We stand in silence, and I swear I can almost feel the grief. Can almost taste the regret, the loss. Maybe one day, seeing her won’t be such an ugly reminder, but right now, it’s devastating.
“I appreciate that, Josie. I do.”
She offers a tight, almost hesitant smile. “It’s not enough, but?—”
“No, it’s not nearly enough, because the problem isn’t whether you thanked me or you’re sorry for what you said. The issue is that you vanished from your daughter’s life for months. That I had to beg you to call her. That you came back without saying a word and missed her Mother’s Day recital.”
“I was there, actually.”
“What?”
“Yes.” Her lips wobble. “Sadie didn’t see me. I was going to her, but then, you and...” She huffs out a puff of air. “Charlotte...you hugged, danced. I...”
Oh, damn.
I can’t imagine that would’ve felt nice.
“It’s fine,” she says, wiping at her cheeks furiously. “I figured I didn’t deserve that moment, that you and Charlotte did.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were back, Josie? Why didn’t you come to see Sadie?”
She sniffles. “I needed time.”
“ Time ? Time for what? Because if you’re out of the rehab, I assume you’ve got your problem under control. Right?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then what do you need time for? What’s more important than Sadie?”
Josie flinches, wrapping her arms around herself. “I needed time to be okay. To not just be sober, but to be someone Sadie can rely on. I’ve relapsed so many times that...I was scared, Aaron.”
“Scared of your own daughter?”
“You don’t get it, do you?” she snaps. “I love her so much it hurts. And I was a bad mom to her. I was a drunk . The thought of doing it again, of screwing her up...I couldn’t take it.
I thought—” She chokes out a gasp. “I thought maybe it was better for her if I wasn’t in the picture at all.
If I never came back. If I didn’t exist .
Even a dead mom is better than a deadbeat. ”
I blink, caught off guard.
She doesn’t mean that, does she?
“Every single day, I convinced myself I was doing the right thing. That Sadie was better off with you and not me.” She sniffles. “I told myself that as long as she had you, she’d be okay. That she wouldn’t need me.”
My anger wars with something dangerously close to understanding. “No, Josie?—”
Her face twists in anguish, and when she speaks again, her voice is barely a whisper. “What if I ruin everything again?”
I scrape my teeth over my bottom lip. “You’re wrong. There is no scenario where Sadie doesn’t need you. She always will.”
Josie presses her fingers to her lips, her shoulders shaking. “I’m so sorry.”
I look down, nodding.
Of course I’m pissed at her. I don’t trust her, and I’m as worried as she is that she’ll mess things up again.
For a moment, the words burn on my tongue.
This is your last chance. But I don’t say them, because she’s Sadie’s mom, and she’s a human being who’s not perfect and will eventually make mistakes.
Because forgiveness doesn’t come with demands.
“I don’t want to run anymore.” She looks at me, her light green eyes red-rimmed. “I want to be her mom.”
Silence stretches between us. “You are her mom. You’ve always been her mom, whether you were here or not.”
She steps closer, arms tentatively open. “C-can I give you a hug?”
I wrap my arms around the top of her back. She drops her face against my shoulder, crying, and I wait for her to feel better, because I don’t want Sadie to see her like this.
“I missed you, you know?” When I tense up, she quickly adds, “Not—not that way. Just...you.”
I let her go. “I missed you too.”
She clicks her tongue. “And I missed your pancakes.”
“Pancakes for breakfast tomorrow then.”
“Breakfast?”
I shrug. “You’re crazy if you think Sadie will let you go back to your parents’ place after she sees you.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
Oh, I’m fine with that, but I’m pretty sure the woman who made me spill into her panties because Penny asked me out might not be. “I’ll take the couch or sleep at my parents’.”
With a grateful smile, she points at the door. “Let’s go?”
“Wait, before we—” I begin, wanting to warn her about Charlotte, when the front door opens and Sadie’s big eyes meet Josie.
“Mom?”
Josie sucks in a sharp breath. “Hi, baby.”
For a moment, Sadie doesn’t move. Then, like something snaps inside her, she launches forward. “Mommy!”
Josie drops to her knees just in time to catch her, and Sadie crashes into her chest, her arms wrapping tight around Josie’s neck. “Oh, my sweet girl,” she sobs, rocking her back and forth. “I missed you so much.”
Sadie squeezes her tighter, and her voice is muffled against her mom’s shirt as she says, “You left.”
Josie pulls back just enough to cup Sadie’s face in her hands. “I know, baby. And I’m so, so sorry. But I’m here now.” She brushes a tear from Sadie’s cheek. “If you want me to be.”
“I do, I do, I do!”
I step back, giving them space, my throat tightening at the sight of them together. Charlotte, leaning against the wall near the hallway, she shifts and crosses her arms with a light smile.
What is she thinking? Is she jealous? Worried? Upset?
Josie kisses Sadie’s forehead and pulls back. “She got taller.”
I ruffle her hair. “Yeah. She does that.”
Josie’s expression falters when she notices Charlotte. “Oh. Hello. Charlotte, right?”
“Yes.” Charlotte straightens but doesn’t step closer. “Nice to officially meet you.”
“You too.” Josie studies her for a beat. “Thanks for looking after them.”
“I didn’t—” Charlotte cuts herself off. “You’re welcome.”
It’s quiet for a moment, until Sadie pulls at Josie’s sleeve. “Mom, are you staying?”
“If that’s okay with you.”
Sadie beams. “Can we watch Bluey ? Can I sleep with you tonight?” Without waiting for an answer, she grabs Josie’s hand and tugs her toward the couch. “You can see all my new drawings! And my new books! And I got a gold star at school last week?—”
Josie lets herself be pulled away, throwing one last look over her shoulder before disappearing into the house.
“Well,” Charlotte says as she takes a step forward. “That’s certainly something.”
“You okay?” I ask.
She lifts a shoulder. “Yeah. I’m just happy for Sadie.”
So am I.
She begins moving. “Guess I should go.”
“What? No.” I lace my fingers with hers. “They need time together. We can both go.”
“No, you all need time together. As a family.”
As if on cue, Sadie calls my name. I guess Charlotte is right. Sadie needs to see that things are okay between her parents too. That we’re still a family, albeit not the one she’s used to.
“It’s okay.” She squeezes my hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She steps away, but just as her fingers slip from mine, I tug her back to me. “Please, don’t go.”
Her eyes fill with something as sweet as sugar. “Aaron...”
“ Please . I need you here, and more importantly, I want you here. You’re part of my family too.”
When she hesitates, Sadie turns to us over the couch. “Charlotte?”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Didn’t I tell you that you and my mom look the same?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
Charlotte tilts her head at me, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. “You think so?” she asks before entering the house again. “I really don’t see it.”