The First Taste(36)

I flinch when she slams the door. She’s right. I didn’t spend last weekend with her because she was with Sadie. That’s three out of seven nights I’ll be away from her. At least my dad came home every night, even if he was drunk or pissed off.

I scrub my hands over my face. “I can’t do it.”

“You should go now,” Flora says. “Before she comes back out.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes you can. Andrew, look at me.”

I lower my hands, balling them into fists.

Flora’s face is earnest. “You’re the best dad I know. You’re nothing like your father, but you’re everything like your grandfather.”

I stare at her, my chest tight. Flora’s husband and my grandfather used to let Pico and me hang at the garage after school, and without us realizing it, they taught us how to be men.

“You remind me so much of him,” she says.

I swallow, feeling not unlike a small child. “He’s my role model.”

“I know, and it shows.” She leans in. “He was a lover, Andrew. He’d hate to know you were throwing your happiness away by not giving someone a chance to love you. Worse, that you’re not setting a good example for your daughter.”

“How is that setting a bad example? Everything I do is for her.”

“Do you want her to live her life for someone else? Even you?” she asks. “Or do you want her to stand on her own, make decisions for herself and be her own woman?”

I look toward Bell’s bedroom. I want nothing more than to go comfort her, tell her I’ll stay, change out of this stuffy suit. But Flora’s right. This isn’t healthy. She needs to learn how to be away from me. Not right away. Not for a long time, I hope. But we have to start somewhere.

I nod. “All right. I’ll go.”

“Good.” Flora looks way more relieved than I feel. “Let me know what you decide about staying overnight.”

I go into the living room, get my wallet and keys, and reluctantly head out the door before I change my mind.





TEN


Sadie’s definition of a bar is different from mine. When I meet my friends for a drink, it normally means beer and a game of pool at Timber Tavern. Tonight, I step into a place with a French name I can’t pronounce. The countertops are black-lacquered with white subway tile. The cocktails cost more than most of my meals. For once, I’m glad to be wearing a suit.

Sadie waves at me from the bar. I make my way through the light crowd and stop cold when I spot Nathan next to her. “I thought you had to work,” I say from a few feet back. I know when I’m being lured into a trap.

“He was able to get off last minute,” Sadie says, waving a hand. “How great is that?”

“Not great,” I say slowly, crossing my arms. Nathan keeps his eyes on the ground. “Why’d you make me come all the way here if you don’t need me?”

“Because it actually worked out perfectly. My new colleague—Mindy, remember?—her date fell through, and since you were already on your way, I figured you could take his dinner.”

I glare at Sadie. I should’ve guessed this was a set up. Sadie’s never invited me to one of her events before. “No.”

“Yes.”

“You tricked me.”

“No,” Sadie says. “It just happened to work out.”

“Come on, Sadie, I’m not an idiot.” Nathan busies himself inspecting the ceiling, the bastard. “Do you guys have any idea what it was like for me to get here tonight? Bell nearly took me down.”

“I figured,” Sadie says. “She had a meltdown on the subway when we left you Friday night.”

I run a hand through my hair. “Seriously? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want to worry you.” She shrugs. “I took care of it, Andrew. It’s normal for her to have some separation anxiety given the way Shana left, but at some point, you have to stop indulging that behavior.”

“You’re going to start with me too?” I ask. “I’m her only parent. Everything I do is for her.”

“We know,” Nathan says, coming over to rest a hand on my shoulder. “Nobody’s denying that. But Bell’s getting to an age where—”

“Dude,” I say, turning to him. “You’re supposed to be my bro. A heads up about this would’ve been nice.”

Nate rolls his lips together and removes his hand to scratch the back of his neck. “I am,” he says. “Which is why drinks are on me. What can I get you?”

“Whisky, neat. And I want top-shelf.”

“Of course,” Nathan says, smiling a little too hard. He leans in and talks to me through his teeth. “Don’t resist. She’s just hit month five, and she’s getting unpredictable.”

Sadie looks up. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” we say at the same time.

Nathan and I exchange a glance before he turns away to wave down the bartender.

I nod at Sadie’s half-finished drink. “That better be water,” I say.

“It’s vodka, obviously,” she says. “I’m not that far along.”

“Very funny.”