Night Road(115)

“Maybe she got mean when she was a spy.”

“She’s not a spy, Princess.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know.”

Grace bit her lower lip nervously. “What’s she like?”

Daddy shook his head. For a long time, he was quiet. Grace was about to ask something else when he said, “I met your mom in high school.” His voice was weird; it sounded like he had something stuck in his throat. “I would have asked her out on that first day, but she was already Mia’s friend. So … I tried not to love her … until one night … she almost kissed me. That changed everything. I couldn’t stay away from her after that.”

“Girls aren’t supposed to do that,” Grace mumbled around her thumb.

“Your grandmother would tell you that girls can do anything. That’s what she told my sister, anyway.”

Grace frowned. Daddy seemed all … gooey, and his eyes were shiny. He was acting like he loved Mommy, but that was stupid because he said she didn’t like him. None of this made sense. “But she didn’t want me,” Grace said. “She left me.”

“Sometimes people don’t have a choice about what they do.”

“Is she gonna visit me again?”

Dad looked down at Grace. “Your mom is really special, Princess, and I know she loves you. That’s what matters now. The reason she’s been gone is … well, really it was my fault, too. I let her be the one who was wrong. But I was wrong, too.”

“Wrong about what?”

He acted like he was going to say something, then he must have changed his mind. He kissed her forehead instead.

“Daddy?”

“You go to sleep, baby. This is all going to work out. You’ll see. We’re going to work all this out.”

“But you’ll stay with me, right, Daddy?”

“Of course, but she’s your mom, Gracie, and you need her, no matter what you think.”

*

“I screwed up, Scot,” Lexi said again. She was in his office, pacing back and forth in front of the window, chewing on her thumbnail.

“Lexi. Lexi.”

She stopped, faced him. “Did you say something?”

“Sit down. You’re making me dizzy.”

She went to his desk and stood there, looking down at Scot, who looked a little tired today. His hair was a mess and his tie was askew. “Are you okay?”

“Danny has colic. Jenny and I aren’t sleeping much. But I’m fine.”

Lexi reached down for the framed photograph on Scot’s desk. In it, a pudgy bald baby boy held a plastic key. It made her sad, seeing this baby, thinking of Grace, wondering if she’d had colic or if she’d slept through the night like an angel. “I don’t know anything about being a mom,” she said quietly, feeling defeated again.

“No one does at the start,” Scot said. “I kept looking for a manual with Danny, but all he came with was a blanket. And I’m pretty sure his grandma gave it to him. Sit down, Lexi.”

She collapsed more than anything, realizing all of a sudden how exhausted she was. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Scot handed her a newspaper. “It won’t do any good to dwell on your mistake. Now is the time for action, Lexi. We need to show the court, and the Farradays, that you’re here to stay and that you’re ready to parent Grace. The best way to do that is to find a job.”

“A job. Of course.”

“I’ve circled a few possibilities. I wish I had enough business to employ you here—”

“You’ve done enough. Thank you, Scot.”

“Jenny has a navy blue suit that she thought you might want to borrow. It’s hanging off the door in the conference room.”

Lexi was once again filled by gratitude to this man, and his wife. She got slowly to her feet. “Danny is a lucky kid. You know that, right?”

He looked up. “So is Grace.”

“I hope so,” Lexi said quietly, feeling a thin resurgence of hope. Saying good-bye to Scot, she went into the conference room and put on Jenny’s navy blue summer-weight suit. It didn’t look great with Lexi’s ice blue T-shirt and flip-flops, but it was the best she had.

In less than forty minutes, she was on her bike, heading to the local drugstore, which had advertised for a sales clerk. Full time, minimum wage.

Inside the bright store, with its array of colorful shelving, she paused and looked around. At the nearest cash register, a heavyset woman with a beehive-like gray pile of hair stood, talking on her cell phone.

Lexi went to the checkout line and stood there.

“You buying something, hon?” the woman said, lowering the phone just a little.

“I’m here for the job.”

“Oh.” The woman bent forward, pressed one scythelike red fingernail to the store intercom, and said, “Manager to register one, please.” Then she smiled at Lexi, straightened, and went back to her phone conversation.

“Thank you,” Lexi said, although the woman wasn’t listening.

Lexi saw the manager approach register one. He was a tall, thin man, very Ichabod Crane–y, with a nose like an eagle’s beak and spiny eyebrows that grew wild as blackberry bushes.