Chapter Three
“We need to talk.”
As he sat in the stands, staring down at the softball field, Cindy’s “we have a problem” voice sent alarm signals in James’s brain.
When he glanced to his right, his ex-wife’s expression made his instincts kick in. “Oh no . . . what’s going on?”
Cindy sucked in a breath . . . then slowly blew it out. “When was the last time you went on a date?”
Of all the things to come out of his ex-wife’s mouth, this, James wasn’t expecting.
“What?”
“A date, James. With a woman?”
He dropped his hands to his lap and cocked his head to the side. “Why is my ex-wife asking about my love life?”
“Because you don’t have one.”
“You don’t know that.”
It was Cindy’s turn to cock an eyebrow and her head. “What’s her name?”
There wasn’t a her.
Or a name.
James turned his attention back to the field.
“I heard the girls talking . . . arguing.”
“That’s not new,” James said, unsure what this had to do with his lack of a love life.
“Don’t you want to know what they were arguing about?”
Not particularly, but he knew from experience that Cindy’s question was going to get answered without his input if he was silent long enough.
He took a breath.
“You. About which one of them was going to pick a college close to home to make sure you aren’t alone.”
Ellie’s teammate smashed the ball into left field, where it was caught by the opposing team. Even though the play registered in James’s vision, his mind was wrapping around what Cindy had just said.
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said. Madison wants Caltech, right?”
“That’s all I’ve heard of since the seventh-grade science fair.”
“And Ellie has her heart on—”
“U of A,” James said before Cindy could. Ellie had backups to the University of Arizona, but Arizona was the top pick.
“Caltech isn’t next door, and the University of Arizona is always an airplane away. Neither of them have a San Diego college in their top three.”
“She can drive from Arizona. And they both applied to San Diego State.”
Cindy met his gaze. “Oh, they both applied, but it’s not in their top three.”
“But they said—”
“Doesn’t matter what they said to our face.”
Something happened on the field, drawing both his and Cindy’s attention to the game.
The teams were switching places.
James noticed Ellie running to third base.
“When they got home from school yesterday, I heard them barking at each other. Like a good parent, I listened from the hall. What happens if they both get into their number one pick? Which one is going to sacrifice and take San Diego State? Then they started accusing the other of not putting as much effort into the application process to get accepted into SDSU.”
“Are you sure you heard this right?”
“To be honest, I wasn’t sure. Sooo, like a good mom, I checked for myself.”
“What do you mean?”
“I checked their applications.”
“How did you—”
James stopped himself from finishing his question. Cindy worked in cybersecurity, and if there was anyone who knew how to hack anyone’s computer anything, it was someone who was paid to keep people out.
“What did you find?” James changed his question.
“Both of them did in fact apply. And both of them left out parts of their educational history that would help them stand out. Ellie’s letter of recommendation from her Spanish teacher was conveniently not attached.
Madison’s letter from her English teacher.
Both of their essays had spelling errors, incomplete thoughts and sentences. I could go on, but you see the point.”
“But—”
“I considered that could be a completely innocent mistake, so I pulled up their chosen schools’ applications, and guess what I found?”
James stared absently at the field. “Perfection.”
“Every i dotted and every t crossed,” Cindy confirmed.
Why?
“They both applied to SDSU because of my relationship status?” he asked.
“Single you. Not dating you . . . Doesn’t even have a dog at home to keep you company you.”
It was utterly ridiculous. “They don’t have to worry about me. I’ll tell them I’m okay.”
“Yeah, sure. That will work, James. Our strong-willed, independent thinkers that we’ve raised to not accept anyone’s word for anything and only watch their actions are going to lie down and accept you ‘telling them’ that you’re okay.”
What was Cindy suggesting? “I’m not going to let them piss away their own dreams because they’re worried about their dad. I’ll sit them down next week, tell them I’m onto them and—”
“The hell you will. They’ll know exactly who dug up their college applications. You’re not throwing me under the bus.”
She had a point.
“Then we’ll do something more subtle.”
“We? No . . . you. I remarried. They’re not debating my happiness.”
The crowd around them jumped to their feet and started to cheer.
James and Cindy clapped before either of them realized what happened on the field.
“I’m happy.”
“Prove it to them.”
He stared at the hard eyes of his ex. “How do you propose I do that?”
“Date. Take a vacation and tell them you’re looking for the next Mrs.”
“Lie to them,” James said, deadpan.
“We’ve been lying to them since the tooth fairy, James.
If they think you’re at least considering a relationship, they’d feel less obliged to live their lives close by to take care of you.
That’s going to happen in time anyway if we both live long enough.
They shouldn’t be burdened with the task now. ”
Cindy wasn’t wrong.
Which was annoying.
“I can’t just pull a woman out of a hat.”
Cindy’s lips eased up slowly on each end.
“What?”
“Remember Summer?”
James started shaking his head. “No.”
“She’s single.”
“No!”
Cindy tossed her head back with a laugh. “Don’t worry, she wouldn’t date you for all the money in the world.”
Suddenly the hypothetical rejection of Cindy’s long-term friend slapped him in the face. “What’s wrong with me?”
Cindy full-on laughed then. “You’re my ex.”
That makes sense. “Then why bring her up?”
“She’s involved with a singles group that is going on a cruise in two weeks. They’re out of the normal staterooms, but they do have a couple of suites still available.”
Cindy sounded like she’d already booked a room. “Back up. I’m not going on a cruise in two weeks.”
“You are.”
Shit . . . did she book a room? “You can boss Clayton around, but . . .”
“A perk of you being my ex-husband is me no longer placating you. Acceptance letters will start rolling out as soon as next month. Ellie and Madison need to see you reaching toward stability without them.”
“As if I’m not stable.”
Cindy slapped at his arm.
“Hey!”
“Tell them you’re going on a singles cruise. You don’t have to come back with anyone. Just show them you’re looking. That should be enough so that when the acceptance letters arrive, they both pick the schools they truly want to attend, and you can go back to your hermit life.”
James screwed up his face, staring Cindy down. “Were you always this demanding?”
“It’s part of the appeal,” she joked. “It’s why you love me.”
And he did.
Not in an “in love” kind of way. But a “great friend” kind of way. A “mother of his children” kind of way.
Unlike every other divorced couple they knew, their split wasn’t filled with hate and venom. They simply fell out of love. If they were ever truly in it to begin with.
When the twins were born, they kept up the ruse of a happy family, until Cindy met Clayton.
The girls were just going into first grade when they called it quits.
In reality, James was relieved.
It would have been easy to blame Cindy since she was the one who found herself attracted to someone else. But that didn’t happen.
James was actually happy for her.
And Clayton was a good guy, despite his misguided Yankee-fan state of mind. He was a great stepdad to the twins and adored the ground Cindy walked on.
Even divorced, James had spent many holidays with them, to the surprise of their extended families.
His sister had asked him once if he was in some kind of polyamorous relationship. Although he denied her allegations, there wasn’t a holiday that went by without her giving James the side-eye.
James had dated in those early years. But nothing stuck.
He’d promised himself that he wasn’t going to bring anyone into his daughters’ lives that wasn’t going to stick around. He would be damned if his girls would suffer instability in their childhood despite the fact that their parents were divorced.
As time went on, the women he dated were like him, divorced with their own children. Many of them latching on for the wrong reasons.
Eventually, James shifted his focus to his work and his girls.
He had a lover a time or two . . . but nothing more than that.
James pushed away the thoughts of his dating—or in his case, nondating—life and released a sigh.
“Where is this cruise going?”
Cindy smiled like the Joker himself.
“I’m not wearing that.” Mari took the low-cut blouse Chloe had taken off the rack at the department store and put it back.
“Why not?”
Mari looked beyond her daughter and removed a button-up white shirt from a pile on a nearby table. “This is more like it.”
“That looks like something you’d wear to work.”
“Which makes it more sensible to buy for the cruise. I’ll wear it later.”
Chloe pulled the blouse out of Mari’s hands and shoved the low-cut variety back at her. “You don’t wear work clothes on a cruise, Mama.”
“How many cruise ships have you been on?”
“Just because I haven’t been on one doesn’t mean I don’t know how to dress for one. If you walk around looking like you work on the thing, you’ll be directing traffic or telling the kitchen staff how to do their jobs within a day.”
Chloe pivoted and pulled several shirts randomly from a pile.
“You need color, and short sleeves, and thin fabric. And linen . . . something nice for the day trips and warm evening strolls on the upper decks.” She kept moving around, tossing articles of clothing over her arm as she spoke.
A sundress draped over her arm . . . a skirt.
“Shorts . . .” Chloe moved to a table stacked with shorts and shirts that complemented them.
“I almost never wear shorts.”
“The Caribbean is hot.”
Before Mari could stop Chloe from stacking more items in her arms, an employee approached. “Can I get a room started for you?”
Chloe handed the ever-growing pile over. “Yes, please.”
“I don’t need all of that,” Mari said once the attendant walked away.
Her daughter ignored her. “When was the last time you bought clothing for yourself?”
Mari paused, opened her mouth, then shut it again. “I don’t remember.”
“Then you need it.” Chloe removed a lightweight beige shirt that was displayed on the manikin as a jacket. She held it up just below Mari’s chin, then put it back on the rack. The same shirt in a bright orange was looked at next, and a new pile started to form.
“I’m doing this for Rosa. She’s the one looking for romance.”
“I know that.” Not that it stopped Chloe from blazing through the store on her hell-bent mission.
“But here’s the thing. Women dress for other women.
Not men.” Chloe flipped through a rack with linen pants as she spoke.
“When you’re chatting away with the other women at your table, feeling and looking your best, you’ll thank me when you get home. ”
“Clothes don’t change a person,” Mari said.
“Lies.”
“Chloe!”
She marched to a section of the store where swimming suits lived and dignity was shelved elsewhere. “You wear something like this . . .” Chloe played with the string of a bikini. “It changes you.”
“I’m not wearing that, young lady.”
Her daughter didn’t dare push the bikini button.
She did, however, remove two one-piece suits before walking to the back of the store to the dressing rooms.
“Humor me, Mama. Try it all on.”
Mari felt a bit like an insubordinate child when she tugged the swimming suits from her daughter’s hands. Since Chloe received her stubborn streak from Mari’s side of the gene pool, she knew that leaving the mall without a swimsuit wouldn’t come without a fight.
A fight Mari had no desire to have.
Besides, that’s what receipts and leaving the tags on clothing were for.
Outside of the dressing room, Chloe chatted while Mari slipped out of her clothes and into her daughter’s choices.
“I have wanted to change your wardrobe for years,” Chloe said.
“There is nothing wrong with my clothes.”
“Debatable.”
Mari pulled on the linen pants and matching shirt. Turning to the side, she smiled back at the mirror.
The lightweight fabric felt like butter on her skin.
She could see how clothing like this would be welcome in the warm tropical sun.
“I wanna see.”
Mari pulled back the curtain.
Her daughter’s eyes widened, and a slow smile crept over her lips. “Now that is what I’m talking about.”
“I’m glad you’re happy.” Mari closed the curtain and moved on to the next outfit.
“Immensely,” Chloe called out with a giggle.
By the time Mari put a stop to the purging of her bank account, both Chloe and herself were overburdened with bags. More clothing than Mari could possibly wear for one vacation. New sandals and sneakers, makeup, and yes . . . a swimsuit.
The only stop she put to her daughter’s need to overhaul everything Mari put on her body was lingerie.
“There is no need for that,” she told Chloe.
“What if you meet—”
“Stop that right there. If you want to buy fancy underwear for anyone, let it be Rosa. She’s the one destined for the confessional when we return. Not me.”
Chloe didn’t push.