“Mmmm,” said Hallie as she took a big bite of pink frosting that almost looked like it sparkled. “This tastes like cotton candy.”
Luna had dark brown frosting on the tip of her nose. “Mine is chocolate.”
“Are you going to have one, Daddy?”
I washed my hands and came over to look inside the box. There were four cupcakes left, all different, and one of them had bacon crumbled on top of caramel-colored frosting. “Maybe I will.”
The girls laughed as I took the wrapper off and opened my mouth wide enough to bite the thing in half. “Mmmm,” I moaned, and I wasn’t pretending—the thing was fucking delicious. I ate the entire cupcake standing right there at the counter. The girls couldn’t quite finish theirs and left me to clean up the mess while they went upstairs to choose party outfits.
“I’ll be up in a minute to turn the shower on,” I yelled, hunting around for a roll of paper towels. I really wished Chip’s party wasn’t tonight—I hadn’t unpacked half my shit yet. I’d be lucky to find a comb and some deodorant.
But I wanted to see my old friend, and he’d already texted me that bringing the kids was no problem at all. He said he was looking forward to meeting them, and so was Mariah, his fiancée. I’d never met her, but judging by how fast Chip had proposed, I figured she must be pretty cool. Chip wasn’t the kind of guy to make a rash decision.
As I stuck the cupcake box in the fridge, my phone vibrated in my back pocket. I pulled it out.
“Speaking of rash decisions,” I muttered.
Naomi and I had been high school sweethearts who’d broken up after graduation, but we’d hooked up again a few years later when I’d been home between tours. Getting married had been an impulsive move fueled mostly by nostalgia and beer.
I debated letting her go to voicemail, but since I had the girls, I took the call. When she had them, she was pretty good about letting me call and say goodnight.
“Hello.”
“Hey. How was the move?” she asked breezily.
“Fine.”
“You’re all settled in?”
“Yep.”
“Because if there’s nowhere for them to sleep tonight, you can always bring them back here. I’m sure you have a lot to do.”
“Their beds are all put together, Naomi. They even have clean sheets on them.”
“Look at you.” She laughed. “What are you doing for dinner? Do you have a kitchen together yet?”
“Actually, we have Chip’s engagement party tonight.”
“You’re taking them to a party?” The pitch of her voice rose dramatically, as if I’d said I was taking them to a strip club. “You don’t want to do that. Why not bring them here?”
“Because it’s my time with them, Naomi. And they want to go.”
“Will they have dinner there?”
My headache returned with a vengeance, and I started hunting around a kitchen box for the ibuprofen. “I’m sure there will be food. It’s a party.”
“Make sure Luna doesn’t eat anything with nuts.”
“She won’t. They won’t be hungry for a while anyway, they just ate cupcakes.”
“Before dinner?”
“Is there something you want, Naomi?” I asked through clenched teeth. “Otherwise, I need to go up and get them in the shower. I don’t want to be late.”
“Are you okay? You sound stressed.”
“I have a fucking headache, and I can’t find the ibuprofen. Now what do you want?”
“I was going to ask to talk to them, but never mind,” she said. “I can tell you’re overwhelmed, and I know how you get when you can’t handle things.”
“I’m not overwhelmed, I have a headache!” I barked. “And I can fucking handle anything right now except you trying to barge in on my time with the girls! I’ll bring them back to you tomorrow, and don’t fucking call me before then!” I ended the call and shoved my phone into my back pocket as I stormed toward the stairs.
“Um, excuse me?”
Startled, I glanced to my left, and through the screen door, I saw Winnie on the porch.
Fuck. She’d probably just heard me yelling at Naomi. Exhaling, I moved toward the door and opened it.
“Can I help you?” I asked, more tersely than intended.
She looked a little nervous, not that I blamed her, as she held out a small pink box of Band-Aids. “I had these lying around and thought Luna might want them for her knee. Band-Aids sometimes come off in the shower, so . . .”