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“I’ll stop.”
“Thank you.” She sank back in her seat. “You’re a nightmare. Although I’m not sure talking to Allison would be that much easier. She sleeps with my dad. Maybe Killion, except he’s a guy, so no.” She frowned. “We haven’t seen him in a while. Is he coming over tonight?”
The unexpected question landed like a body blow. Erica wanted to crumble to the floor, where she could pull her knees to her chest and hold in the pain. Because of course Killion wasn’t coming over for dinner. He wasn’t ever going to see her again. She’d made it clear they were finished, and he was the kind of man who listened.
Breaking up with him had been the right thing to do but living with the consequences sucked. She missed him. A thousand times a day she thought of something to tell him. After Allison had given birth, she’d automatically phoned him, barely stopping the call before it went through.
“No, Killion’s busy with a business deal.”
She didn’t usually lie to her daughter but she wasn’t ready to admit what had happened. She didn’t want the questions, less so from Summer than from her mother. Mara would see through to the real reason she’d done it.
“I wish he could be here tonight,” the teen said. “We’d have the whole family together.” She hesitated. “Except for Dad. Does he know Bethany was born?”
“I haven’t asked Allison.”
“It’s got to be hard for him, knowing his daughter was born but he can’t see her and he wasn’t there. Allison’s really strong, you know? The way she’s handled this. It’s because she has us. Well, mostly you, but us. I like having them live here.”
Erica smiled at her. “I do, too. When you suggested it, I was furious and unwilling and a bunch of other negative things, but it’s worked out. So how about dinner? I’m thinking takeout. None of us wants to cook. We could overorder so Allison can eat the leftovers all night. We’ll get healthy starting tomorrow.”
She waited for Summer to start suggesting places but instead her daughter stared at the table.
“I have a summer job.”
There was a change in topic. “All right. You said you wanted one. It’s probably a good idea, if you’re not going to softball camp.”
“I’m not. I meant what I said about letting that go.” She glanced at Erica. “So I applied at this company that has a summer program for teens. It’s for eight weeks and you rotate through different departments, learning about the business. I’m not sure how much I’m going to actually help the place, but I’ll learn a lot.”
“That sounds great. Is it like what we do at Twisted?” She’d started a teen program about ten years ago. Students applied and were chosen based on a series of interviews.
“Mom, it is at Twisted. I applied and was accepted into the program.” She wrinkled her nose. “I have Dad’s last name so I got through the preliminary discussions without anyone knowing who I was, but Emmy does the final interview and she’s known me since I was a kid.”
Erica tried to understand. “I don’t understand. You applied at Twisted for the summer?”
Summer nodded.
“But you hate what I do.”
Her daughter slumped on the table. “I don’t hate it. I don’t understand it or respect it.” She sat up. “Sometimes it was easy to dismiss what you did. Dad always said kind of mean things. I didn’t get it before but since he’s been in jail, I’ve had time to think. I’m not saying I want to do hair, but you run a really big business. You’re successful and strong and stuff. There’s a lesson there.”
Now it was Erica’s turn to fight tears. She felt like one big emotional mess.
“I didn’t know you’d applied.”
“I asked Emmy not to tell you and I told her to hire me or not, based on merit. I don’t know if she listened. I mean I am your daughter.” She smiled. “I’m kind of excited to see what all you do there. Allison’s always talking about how she enjoys her work and how great the salon is. She really loves it there. So does Grandma.”
Erica told herself not to make a big deal about it. Her daughter working at Twisted. She would take that as a win.
“So takeout,” Summer said, pulling out her phone. “Does Allison have any food restrictions? She’s nursing so there’s that.” She looked at Erica. “If I do a search on what nursing mothers can’t eat, is it going to gross me out?”
“I doubt they’re going to mention the word penis, so you’ll be fine.”
“Mom!” She looked over her shoulder. “Stop saying that. It’s wrong coming from a parent.”
Erica smiled. “Sometimes you’re so mature, I worry you won’t be my little girl anymore. It’s nice to know you still have some growing up to do.”
“Whatever. Just stop saying that word!”
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