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“C’mon, let’s go for a walk.” Abby leashed Gen and grabbed her light jacket, necessary now that the weather had finally cooled down.
The fall wind rattled through the last remaining dead leaves in the white oak trees, acorns raining down like pebbles, and the dry, loamy, spicy scent of the decaying foliage fought with the rich aroma of her coffee. Palm fronds littered the sidewalk, and Gen grabbed one in her mouth, parading ahead of them while they walked.
Laughing, Abby soon stopped telling her todrop it, as she’d simply pick up the next one she came across.
“I shouldn’t have let her get to me. I’m pretty sure that’s what she wanted, anyway. And Mark is worried showing my temper, well, between that and the football, it’s ridiculous, but he thinks the judge might see me as too aggressive.”
Scott had already filled her in on what had happened during the latest hearing, and as he processed the last several days, their arms brushed occasionally.
“But the guardian spent a whole day with you and Dylan,” Abby said. “She has to have told him you’re, like, the best dad ever.”
He pulled her into his side, planting a kiss on her temple before releasing her again. “Maybe. We’ll see.”
He stared into the distance, quiet and distracted, and Abby, hoping to cheer him up, curled her fingers in his. Juggling her coffee and Gen’s leash in her other hand, she snatched sips between the dog’s zig-zags across the sidewalk. “But, hey, you won yesterday.”
Scott frowned. “I didn’t even score a single point all game.” He blew out a breath. “It’s exhausting, worrying about Dylan all the time, still having to play. I thought I could compartmentalize better than this.”
Abby had nothing to say. She couldn’t imagine the pressure Scott faced.
Like lightning, the obvious solution to Scott’s problem struck her.
“Hey, if it would help, I could, you know...” She trailed off. “I mean, if I’m such a part of the problem...”
She didn’t want to say the words. Didn’t want to admit the reality that something as simple as stepping out of his life might make all the difference, at least for him and Dylan.
“No.” He squeezed her hand, then tucked it against his chest. “No, I don’t want that. Anyone with an ounce of sense is going to know you are nothing but good for Dylan. This is the stupidest circus, but I have to believe the judge is going to see through Lindsay’s shenanigans. She’s going to get tired of fighting, or of paying, or of flying down here for hearings. She’s going to get sick of Dylan and remember why she doesn’t want to be his mother, anyway. The season will end, and I won’t be burning the candle at both ends...”
His voice trailed off raggedly.
Did he believe any of his words, or was he trying to convince himself as much as her?
“Please,” he finished, stopping and turning her toward him. “Don’t give up on me. Not yet.”
“Okay.” Abby pressed herself close to him, burrowing her nose into his collar, where the sharp odor of his aftershave permeated the fabric.
Breaking apart, Abby stumbled, then grabbed Scott’s sleeve for balance. Gen, trying to move into position beside Abby when they’d stopped, had gone around Scott to do it. Now, the leash looped around their calves, tangling them together.
Laughing, Abby tried to free herself, but she couldn’t slip the leash off over her cup of coffee, and if she let go of Scott, she’d fall.
“Here,” Scott took her drink, freeing her hand to shake off the leash.
Dropping it, Abby wiggled an ankle until it loosened enough for her to step out and pick it up again. Taking her coffee back, she sloshed it for a second and, deciding she’d had enough, tossed the rest into a garbage can. Then, linking her fingers in his again, she leaned into his side.
“So, Dylan asked to go to the hospital with me this week. I said I’d ask you. He says he misses Ethan and Liam, but Liam... He’s not doing well. I’m not sure you want Dylan to see him like this.” She paused. “Maybe he and Ethan could play in the atrium while I visit Liam with Gen.”
Scott’s brow wrinkled. “I don’t know. Things are so unsettled right now for him...”
Abby nodded. “I had the same thought yesterday. Everything we do has the potential to mean much more than an off day for him.”
“Maybe when things are less...”
“Fraught? Yeah, okay.” She frowned. “He’s going to be disappointed. I can’t win either way, these days.”
Scott squeezed her hand. “We’ll tell him tonight. Together. We’ll explain it so he understands. I won’t make you be the bad guy.”
She smiled up at him. “Thanks.”
Not long after Scott arrived home his phone pinged with a new message.