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“Back in my day,” Savage says, sounding like he’s sixty rather than in his thirties, “we played outside. Don’t kids ever go to the quarry anymore? We used to fish and swim and get up to all kinds of shit.”
“Swear jar,” Alex and I say in unison.
My daughter shoots me an uncertain smile. I return it. I’m angry about earlier, but I’m more concerned about why. And why she won't tell me. I’ve never had to ground her before, and I don’t want to start now, but we’re entering dangerous territory.
“Kids don’t go to the quarry any more. It’s so 1999,” Alex says. “I just, I like games.”
Savage leans forward, the chair creaking under his weight. “But Alex, how are you going to meet cute boys if you don’t go to the quarry?”
“I will throttle you,” I say, pointing a finger at him.
Alex laughs. “Dad, I’m done. Can I go watch YouTube?”
“Yeah.” We’ve already talked about how her behavior today was unacceptable and that there will be repercussions. I’m still figuring out what they are. There are parenting books, but theory and practical work are worlds apart.
Alex cleans off her plate, stacks it next to the dishwasher and hurries off to the living room to sit down.
“You’re going to let her watch YouTube after the stunt she pulled?” Savage asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m figuring it out. This parenting stuff isn’t for the weak.”
Savage nods. “I bet. So, what are you going to do about the nanny situation? Crouchbottom’s in the hospital? What did the doctor say?”
“That she won’t be on her feet for months,” I reply. “So, she’s not going to be around to nanny. I’ll figure something out.” I have to. I can’t leave dad hanging when he needs me, and I won’t compromise on childcare for Alex.
I’m not panicked, but I’m certainly fucking concerned. If I could just—
“Just about every woman in this town would bend over backward to be a live-in nanny for you. I can hear them gossiping from here.”
“Yeah, well, that’s exactly the problem,” I said. “I don’t want a woman around who wants ‘Cash Taylor’ country music star.” It’s the reason Crouchbottom was perfect for the job, and totally uncomplicated.
“I heard June Jackson’s in town.”
My fist drops to the table so hard, the knives and forks clatter in our plates. “Oh.”
“Oh?” Savage eyes me. “You haven’t heard about that?”
“I saw her today.”
Savage waits for more from me. I’m not giving it.
He gives a low chuckle. “Come on, Cash.”
I get up and take his plate, not caring whether he’s done or not. “Beer?”
“Sure,” he says. “But I think you need one more than I do.”
Savage is smiling so hard, I can hear it with my back turned to him.
“Cash, you’ve always had a hard-on for that woman, and now that she’s back, you’re not going to make a move?”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. And keep your voice down.” But I know Alex won’t hear us. The sounds of her favorite gaming streamer’s goofy laughter is penetrating the entirety of the bottom floor of the house.
“I do know what the fuck I’m talking about,” Savage says. “You were the one who told me that she’s the one who got away.”
“Didn’t say that.”
“Yeah, you did. Every time we go out and grab a few drinks, which is never anymore, you talk about her. You talk about her more than you talk about your ex, and you didn’t even fuck June,” Savage says. “You can’t tell me you’re not tempted. What happened to the country music star who could have any woman he wanted?”
