I rubbed my eyes, already exhausted by the conversation. “What do you want, Steven?”
“I want the kids next weekend.”
“We’ve discussed this already. I don’t want them going to your house.”
“Then I’ll come to yours. I’ll stay in your guest room.”
“That’s Vero’s room.”
“Then I’ll sleep on the couch.”
If he did that, Vero would probably learn to make Molotov cocktails on YouTube and light the sofa on fire herself. “The kids won’t even be here. They’re scheduled to spend the weekend with my parents.”
“Again?”
I mouthed an apology to my mom. I hadn’t even asked her.
“I’m not falling for that crap. I know what you’re doing. You’re making excuses to keep them away from me.”
“They’re not excuses—”
My mother grabbed the phone from my hand. “Steven,” she said through a saccharine smile, “so good to hear from you.” She tucked the phone between her ear and her shoulder, scrubbing the counter with unnecessary force. “Finlay tells me you’d like to spend time with the children. I think that’s just wonderful. Delia and Zach are staying with Paul and me next weekend so Finlay can spend time with her new boyfriend.” My mother called out to me, “Which one was it, sweetheart? The police officer or the law student? They’re both so handsome, I get them mixed up.”
“Savage,” Vero whispered.
“There’s plenty of room with us, Steven. And we haven’t seen you in far too long. Why don’t you pack a bag and come for the weekend? Then you and I can have a nice long chat. It’s way overdue.” I cringed. “What’s that? You’d like to speak to Finlay? Hold on, dear.” My mother’s smile was bitter as she thrust out the phone.
“Yes?” I cupped a hand over the receiver so he wouldn’t hear Vero giggling.
“This is not over, Finn.”
With a weary sigh, I said, “It never is.”
The line disconnected. I set the phone in the cradle and slumped into my chair, refilling my glass with the last dregs of the bottle. Vero stood up and stretched. “I’m going to put the kids in a bath. Don’t have too much fun without me.”
My mother folded her dish towel, settling into Vero’s empty chair once we were alone. “You’re handling Steven all wrong, sweetheart. There’s no sense locking horns with an ox. Fighting with him only gives him exactly what he wants.”
“What’s that?”
“Your attention,” she said with a sympathetic smile. “He’s like a toddler, Finlay. He’s done playing with his toy, but he doesn’t want anyone else to have it, and he’s going to throw a tantrum until he gets his way.” She sighed as she tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “He doesn’t deserve you. He never did. Find someone else. Someone who makes you happy. Someone worthy of you and the children.”
I swirled the wine in my glass. Nick and Julian both made me happy, I supposed. But I wasn’t entirely sure I was worthy of either of them. I turned to my mother. “How did you know Dad was the one?”
My mother laughed. “Who says I ever did? Most days, I’m still not sure.”
“But not because you didn’t really know him,” I clarified. “I mean, Dad was always honest with you, right?”
My mom’s hand closed softly over mine. “All couples have secrets, Finlay. You don’t have to tell each other everything to know what’s in each other’s hearts. But the kinds of secrets Steven was keeping … those weren’t the same kind.”
“So Dad never cheated?”
“Not unless you count that once with Jennifer Aniston.” At my dubious look, my mother’s grin became wry. “Your father fell for one of those internet scams. He clicked a link in an email offering to show him Jennifer Aniston’s breasts. He learned his lesson the hard way,” she said with a shake of her head. “Your father contracted a nasty virus and I had to hire one of those nerd people—you know, the ones that drive those tiny cars—to come to the house and clean it all up. She was a very nice girl; discreet,” she said, “but very expensive. I made your father pay for it.”
I drank the last of my wine, still chuckling to myself, having learned more about my parents’ relationship than I cared to. Maybe she was right. Maybe sometimes we were better off not knowing.