Role Playing(89)

Trev’s mouth twisted in a smile. “Wow. That was easier than I thought. We used to argue about everything.”

“Now get out.”

His eyebrow quirked. “Ah. Here it is.”

“This is my house, Trev,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. Then she turned to Kit. “If you want to hang out with him, have a meal or two with him, you can absolutely do that. Just not in this house.”

“Jesus, it’s been five years,” Trev grumbled, rolling his eyes. “I’ve let it go. Why can’t you?”

“Dad!” Kit glared at him.

“What? You told me yourself: she’s been living like a hermit. That’s why you were worried when there was a strange car,” Trev pointed out. “Hell, you’ve been jumping through hoops to get her to have a life and make some friends! That’s not healthy, Mags, and it shouldn’t be Kit’s problem.”

Maggie spun on Kit, who winced. “What? What is he talking about?”

Kit looked pale, his expression guilty.

“I know I made a lot of mistakes. I didn’t think staying here would’ve made things any better for any of us, and I still believe that,” Trev continued. “I wasn’t in a good headspace. But I always knew he was a smart kid, and he turned out great. Better than I ever expected.”

Kit looked stricken, and in that moment, she could’ve murdered Trev.

“But you should let him be a kid,” Trev scolded. “Not have him worry about you and come up with crazy schemes to make you social. He’s not the parent here. You are.”

She felt like she was collapsing in on herself. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, which should’ve looked defiant, but felt more like she was hugging herself, trying to keep it together.

“Dad, you should definitely leave now,” Kit said, his voice deep and sharp, brooking no argument. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Trev huffed. “Sorry,” he finally said. “If I was, you know, harsh. I just feel like I’ve been out of the loop with Kit for so long. I don’t want to see us make things worse, and this isn’t good for him. You can’t expect me to see something bad for my kid and hold back.”

“You never did,” she said. “Kit, why don’t you go to your room for a second? I’m going to walk your father out to his truck.”

“Oh, fuck,” Kit muttered, and she shot a look at him. “Come on. Do you guys really have to do this? I’m sorry I brought him in, and I’m sorry I told him anything, but I’m eighteen years old, and I don’t need to hear a fucking shouting match between my divorced parents!”

She closed her eyes. That had happened, years ago, when Trev had left. They’d had increasingly bitter fights, with lots of yelling on his part, lots of crying on hers. It had been a brutal stalemate, right up to him driving away and not coming back.

“I’m not going to yell at him,” she replied, mentally reaching for the internal armor she’d built so meticulously. “Eat some pancakes if you want. Get a load of laundry started. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Kit’s mouth twisted, shooting her a suspicious look.

“And then we’re going to talk,” she added firmly.

He sighed, then nodded. She gestured to Trev to follow her. The air was cold, even though it hadn’t snowed, or at least it hadn’t stuck. She should’ve put a jacket on, but she didn’t feel the chill. Trev was driving a new black Ford F-150. He had always liked his vehicles.

“I really am trying with Kit,” Trev said defensively. “He’s a good kid.”

“I know.”

“I should’ve let him know that more,” Trev finally said. “I should’ve done a lot of things differently. I see that now.”

She shrugged.

“My girlfriend, Carleigh, is helping me see some of that.”

“Was it her idea that you reach out to Kit?”

“No. That was my idea,” he said. Then, reluctantly, he added, “After I saw the, uh, sonogram.”

If Maggie’s eyes went any wider, they’d pop out of her head. “She’s pregnant?” she said. “That’s why you’re getting married? How old is she?”

Trev’s expression pulled. “She’s thirty.”

“Wow.” Twenty years’ age difference. He was going to be fifty years old with a newborn. He hadn’t even liked having a newborn when he was thirty.

She thought of a meme Mac had sent her. It’s called karma, and it’s pronounced ha ha, fuck you.

“Don’t even start,” Trev warned.

“Whatever. She’s thirty, she’s old enough to make her own decisions. And you’re going to be a father again.” The thought made her shudder. The idea of having a baby at this age, the sleep deprivation, juggling the strain of a new marriage and an infant . . .

God, she hoped this Carleigh was a stronger person than she had been.

“Kit really does worry about you,” Trev said. No. Lectured. “He’s been—”

She cut across his words. “I will deal with Kit momentarily. You’ve made it clear that you didn’t think much of my parenting. You thought I was too soft on him. You just abandoned us when you decided that no matter what you did, my influence was going to be too strong, and you couldn’t ever ‘fix’ the damage I’d done. Do you remember that?”