The First Taste(86)

She balks. “Money? If I wanted money, I wouldn’t come to you. You never had any.”

I mash my molars together. Two minutes, and we’re already having the same argument. That’s got to be some kind of record. “You’re right,” I say. “I’m broke, so there’s nothing here for you. Move along.”

It’s a lie. Those first few years we had Bell, I invested any extra money I had into the garage, leaving only enough in our bank account to cover Bell’s basics. I’d worked like a dog once I had Bell to take care of, but it meant Shana and I’d had to go without. That hard work has paid off now that the garage is doing enough business to keep us busy around the clock, but Shana wouldn’t know that. Unless, of course, she can sense it, which wouldn’t surprise me.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” she says. “I told myself to stay away. I had no right to come back into your life, but I just can’t help myself. I’m not the girl I used to be.”

“You can stay away,” I say, keeping an eye on Bell, who is, so far, oblivious to what’s happening over here. “You just don’t want to, and you always do what you want. You are the girl you used to be.”

“My parents died, Andrew.”

I whip my head back to her. “What?”

“First, my mom. Breast cancer.” Her voice cracks. “Six months later, my dad started to lose his mind. It happened so fast. One day, he just didn’t know me anymore. I had to put him in a home.”

“He’s alive, though.”

“Yes, but he might as well be dead. He doesn’t remember anything beyond the immediate short term.”

Shana’s parents had her late, but they’re too young to have both gone like that. Ashamedly, for a split second, I wonder if she’s lying, but not even she would stoop that low. They’re strangers to me now, but once they were Bell’s grandparents. “I’m sorry,” I say.

“I called a few times, but—” She swallows. “I didn’t know what to say.” She takes a step toward me and I automatically put my hands up. Her mouth falls open. “My parents are gone—I’m not contagious.”

“No,” I say suddenly. “You don’t get to come here and play the sympathy card. You don’t have the first clue what we’ve been through.” My voice is rising, and a couple of the moms look over at us.

“You keep looking at her,” Shana says fondly. She glances over her shoulder at the girls. “I don’t even think you realize you’re doing it. She’s really beautiful, Andrew. I can’t even believe how big—”

“Don’t—don’t look at her,” I say, panic knotting in my chest. I stand up, towering over her even more than usual since I’m on the third step of the bleachers. “Don’t even look at her.”

She turns back to me. “There’s no need to overreact. I promise, I’m not here to cause trouble.” She snorts. “And you say I’m dramatic.”

I swing an arm between us. “You don’t think this is dramatic? Ambushing me out of the blue in the middle of Bell’s gym class?”

“You didn’t know I was in town?” she asks.

“How the f*ck would I?”

“The card I sent home with Bell. I thought you’d see that and understand—”

I take a step down to the first bleacher, and she shrinks. “You talked to Bell when I wasn’t around?”

“I didn’t tell her who I was. I was gently sending you a message that—”

“How f*cking dare you.”

“I’m her mother.”

“No you’re not. You’re nothing to her. She doesn’t even know about you. She never asks. Never.”

She gapes at me. “Oh my God, Andrew. That’s so mean. And it’s a lie.”

“No it isn’t,” I say, and almost unbelievably, it’s true. Bell has yet to come to me and ask why all her friends have moms and she doesn’t. “I’m enough for her. Because I’ve taught her to be smart. Independent. That way she’ll never get f*cked over again.”

“Andrew—”

Bell looks over at us, tilting her head, and I snap in the most contained way I can manage so I don’t alarm her. I shove my hands in my pockets and school my expression and my tone. “Get out of my face,” I say slowly. “Right now, or I swear to God, if you ever come near her again, I’ll file a restraining order. If you ever come near her again while I’m not around? I’ll make your life a living hell.”

Her nostrils flare. “Jesus. When did you get to be such an *? You were always trying to control me, but you were never mean. Not like this.”

She turns and stomps out, making no secret of her discontent. The few moms in the crowd look either at me or her, because f*ck this small town, of course they know who she is. They know my situation.

I plaster on a smile and Bell waves emphatically at me. “Watch me,” she yells. She starts her floor routine, then stops abruptly and says “No, wait, watch,” and starts over, even though I have no clue what she did wrong. I grin as my heart pounds right up against my chest. When I’ve lost her attention to tumbling, I scrub my hands over my face.

Fuck shit f*ck. For a long time, I wished Shana would come back, just so I could tell her to f*ck off. Now, though, I don’t want to do that. I don’t want her here at all. Bell and I have figured it out without her. We have balance. We’re happy. I don’t need revenge. I don’t need to prove anything. I just want Shana to leave us alone.