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Chapter Fifteen
Ryan
Grace came back from the bathroom angry. Even more angry than she already was. I don’t have to have a fully functioning brain to know it’s me she’s mad at.
Because I don’t know what else to do and I don’t want to say anything in front of Molly, I pretend not to notice the way she looks at me. Like I’m an intruder. An imposter. Someone who doesn’t belong.
I can’t blame her for feeling that way. She’s right on all counts. I have no place here. I have no right. I’ve never belonged.
Not here.
Not really.
But despite the fact that I know she has a million reasons for feeling the way she does and all of them are spot-on, I can’t help but be a little angry myself because I didn’t ask for this.
For them.
I didn’t want them to come here and fuck up my day. Drag me out of my cave and into the light of day. I was perfectly happy where I was. By myself. I’ve always been alone and there’s never been a reason to think that things could ever be different.
I don‘t need them.
Either of them.
So, I let Grace sulk. Detached from Molly, giving her short, one-syllable answers when she lobes questions at me between bites. I focused0 on getting through the last forty-five minutes. Made it my mission.
Pushed through so I can move on.
When the check came, Grace reached for it but I snatched it from the waitress’s grip before she could even touch it.
“I got it,” I tell her, reaching into my pocket for my wallet. Normally, residents just sign the bill and it’s charged to their room, like a hotel. Patrick pays for my stay at Sojourn. He pays for my physical therapy. For my bad temper when I let the opportunistic assholes who work in this place get the better of me. If it weren’t for him, I’d be living in a halfway house, relying on my VA benefits and monthly disability checks. He pays for everything the government won’t.
But he’s not going to pay for this.
Pulling a few twenties from my wallet, I toss them on the table before starting the monumental task of extricating myself from the booth I insisted on sitting at. By the time I manage to unfold my stiff joints and aching bones, Grace and Molly are waiting for me next to the table.
“You guys should take off,” I grumble at her while I grapple with my cane. “I’ve got physical therapy in—”
“We can walk with you.” Molly reaches for my free hand. “Right, Mom?” she looks up at her mom and gets a bright smile in return.
“As far as the lobby,” Grace says, shooting me a quick, guarded look. “Ryan is right, we need to get going. We still need to buy new shoes, remember?”
Molly starts bouncing around like a pinball at the reminder of new shoes and by the time we’ve left the restaurant, she’s pulled away from me completely to streak across the lobby toward the indoor play area at the center of the atrium.
“You want to tell me what I did?” I say to Grace as soon as Molly is out of earshot. “Because as far as I can tell, I’ve been on my best behavior since the two of you showed up.” I’m picking a fight. Putting her off on purpose, because I need to re-draw the line in the sand between us. I need to convince myself that, despite the question, I don’t really give a fuck why she’s mad at me.
“Is that what you call it?” She barks back.
“Uh, yeah.” I plant my cane but don’t take the proceeding step. “I hate cotton candy but I ate it anyway.” Holding up my free hand, I start to tick off all the reasons that, for once in my life, I’m not the asshole in this scenario. “I haven’t said fuck or shit one time, I even took a goddamned shower and changed my—”
Stopping mid-stride, she turns to look at me. “The waitress thought you were Molly’s father.” She says it like it’s my fault. Like by being nice to her kid, I’ve committed some sort of crime against humanity.
“I’m sorry?” I swipe a rough hand over my face before shaking my head. “Is that what I’m supposed to say? Am I supposed to apologize for being nice to your kid?” When all she does is stare at me like I just slapped her, I let out a rough sigh. “Help me out here, Grace. Just tell me what I did so I can apologize and you and Molly can leave.”
“You lied.”
She seems just as surprised by the accusation that hangs between us as I am. “Excuse me?” I’ve been an asshole but I’ve never lied. Not to Grace.
“You like Molly.” She turns away from me to find Molly, who’s climbing the steps to the slide. Seeing us watching her, Molly waves and I automatically lift a hand and wave back. When I look at Grace she’s looking back at me, watching me. “You’re good with her.” Again, it’s like she’s accusing me of something. Of pretending to be something I’m not.