Chapter Twenty-Nine
TWENTY-NINE
The rain last night had filled the parking lot, making every available space a disaster zone for Shepherd’s sneakers. This is what he got, choosing the support of dad shoes over his summertime Crocs. Wet socks.
Grimacing, he managed the path of least resistance, crossing between parked cars to get to higher ground.
The girls went straight through, though Ginny made constant noises of disgust and distress while Lex tried a variation of sayings like “Hot brown water! Do the stingray shuffle, Ginny! C’mon, man, are you nutso butso? This is clearly a no-wake zone!”
That last one was to the driver of a Ford truck who drove past them at normal parking-lot speed and created waves.
But the girls were both wearing sandals—no socks—and so he continued on without looking back.
“Waffle House,” Ginny sighed as Shepherd opened the door for her. “I googled all those cute little breakfast places, and you pick Waffle House.”
“You’re the born and raised Floridian, Virginia,” Shepherd counted. “Look around. Breathe it in. This is your culture.”
Lex took her hand and gave it a gentle pat.
“Me too, Ginny. This is our culture. Let’s enjoy it together.
” His daughter tugged his employee to a table closest to the kitchen.
So close, in fact, that the waitress stood in the kitchen to take their order.
Three waffles, two coffees, and one chocolate milk later, Lex was filling them in on all her plans for the day with Chloe.
Chloe, who had her own pool. Chloe, who lived near the park.
Chloe, who had two bikes so they could go to the park together without any parents.
“As long as you keep your phone on you,” Shepherd said. “Don’t talk to strangers. And be back at Chloe’s house before dinner.”
She waved her hand and gulped down her chocolate milk. The liquid clung to her upper lip when she replied, “I’m not a baby, Dad.”
Ginny’s arm bumped into his when she reached across the booth to hand Lex a napkin. He wrote it off as an accident, an unintended touch, but when she lowered her hand back under the table, her fingers rested against his knee.
His wife was a loser for having been married to him, Ginny had said. Which was very similar to what Hayley herself had said during their divorce.
Hell, it’s what his mom had said to his dad, so …
Maybe it was a generational thing. He was good for hitting people over the back of the head with a bat, but not so great for a relationship.
That was totally fine. He didn’t need or want a relationship.
He’d gotten what he wanted from Ginny last night.
And if the way her hand was caressing his leg was anything to go by, maybe again soon.
That was all he needed. Physical connection.
That was all he wanted, anyway. If Ginny ever realized how much of a walking, talking scab he was—a disgusting, oozing shell covering over a multitude of anxieties and failures, and anxieties about those failures—well.
She’d run away screaming, like Hayley did.
Her phone rang. Ginny squeezed his thigh before reaching into her pocket and pulling it out.
“I don’t know this number, but it’s local,” she said.
“Maybe the po—” She stopped, looking at Lex across the booth who was busy drowning the rest of her waffle in maple syrup.
“I’m going to take this outside. Be right back. ”
Shepherd nodded and super-subtly watched her walk away.
Lex grunted around a mouthful of syrup. Like she’d spooned it in when he wasn’t looking. “Jeez, Dad. Have some self-respect.”
He swore, rubbed at his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mimicked, her voice as low as she could make it. “You’re embarrassing me. You’re embarrassing yourself. Pull yourself together! She’s your girlfriend, Dad. You don’t need to look so in love all the time.”
“I do not! And I am not.” He huffed. “The disrespect. From my child, from my employees. Oh God. I should call Noah.”
Lex went, “Duh,” and put another spoonful of syrup in her mouth.
Shepherd called Noah, who answered on the third ring with a breathless “Dude!”
“Sorry,” Shepherd replied, “things came up with Ginny’s family.”
“Girlfriend problems already, man?”
Shepherd pushed his breakfast around on his plate, the prongs of his forks scratching the ceramic, leaving trails of scrambled egg behind. “It isn’t like that. I just … I can’t come in today, OK. Keep me posted if something comes up.”
“Sure it isn’t,” Noah teased. “Whatever you say, Boss.”
Shepherd hung up. Ginny still hadn’t come back.
He finished off the rest of his breakfast, glancing around the restaurant every few bites. He was just about to go outside and check when she came back to the booth, her hair windswept and her cheeks pink and—
Lex kicked him under the table.
He closed his eyes and got himself together.
“That was our friend Charlie,” Ginny said. “He wants to meet us again.”
“He just wants more free pizza.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, grabbing more napkins and cleaning his daughter’s face simultaneously. “Can you get the check, please?”
Shepherd sighed. “That’s what I’m here for.”