Page 13 of Passing Notes
“Fine, okay. Thank you. But don’t you think she’s pretty?” she pushed.
“Uh, I guess so.” Pretty was not the right word, not when Clara was still the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. We’d been here for a little over a week and Sasha’s preoccupation with Clara was glaringly obvious.
As was my own, unfortunately.
“She’s so nice. She always says hi and talks to me and Ethan when we’re walking home from the bus or Mom’s house. I like her.”
I grunted in answer and resumed sautéing the asparagus for our dinner. My own preoccupation with Clara was hidden, like it had always been, and her nearness was driving me to distraction.
A few nights back I discovered our bedrooms were separated by nothing but a few feet of empty air, windows, and two sets of fucking curtains. When I saw her sexy silhouette changing clothes through her sheers, I’d installed blackout blinds and gave up on ever seeing natural light in my room again.
After the way she’d broken me when she left town, I found it infuriating she still had the power to occupy my mind. It was constant. It was torture. It had to stop.
“I wonder if she’s on her porch. She’s always out there. We should decorate our porch like hers. Then you could go outside and sit there and drink coffee or whatever, and maybe talk to her. Or ask her on a date, or something.”
Little did she know . . .
“Decorating the porch is a great idea. You can be in charge of it.” Anything to distract her from talking about Clara worked for me.
Her eyes lit up. “I know! I could do my homework out there. Ethan is always hogging the backyard with his football crap and his dumb friends. And you too, with all your barbeque stuff. I want a pretty porch, just like Clara’s.”
“Great idea. Go online and pick out a few things for me to buy. But stick to the sales, okay?”
She hopped off the stool, buzzing with excitement. “Yes! Thank you, Dad.”
I loved seeing her happy. “You’re welcome. I want you to love it here, and if having a pretty porch is what it takes, then that’s what you’ll have.”
She beamed at me. “I already love it here. You picked the perfect house. My room slays.”
“I’m happy to hear that?—”
“But I still want a pretty porch.”
I laughed. “Of course you do.” I watched as she ran off to the living room to the computer. “I’ll try to have it ready for you before you come back from your mom’s place.”
“Yay! I love you! I’ll make a list.”
“Love you too.” My every other week was almost up. But we were within walking distance now, so I anticipated seeing them much more throughout the week. They’d had dinner at Morgan’s house a couple of nights during my turn and I was happy that she’d been willing to loosen her stringent adherence to our custody agreement. The kids were already more relaxed now that they could go back and forth between our two houses without lots of planning and a car ride across town.
In fact, Ethan was there right now raiding her pantry because I was out of chips. Speak of the devil... I looked up as he appeared in the doorway carrying a bag of Doritos.
“It’s official. Sasha’s lost her mind over Clara. Check out what they’re wearing. They match.” He tipped his head toward the kitchen window, which I studiously avoided since it had the perfect view of Clara’s porch from the side of the house. “She wants to be her clone or something. They’re both wearing purple. What’s for dinner? It smells good.”
“Garlic-rubbed baked potatoes, asparagus, and steaks on the grill.” I pointed to the bag in his hands. “Maybe save those for later. You’ll spoil your dinner.”
“Nice. Can we eat on the patio?”
“Sure.” Eating outside always ran the risk of a Clara sighting. But half the reason I’d bought this damn house was for the yard, and the kids knew it.
“Can we go in the pool after?”
“I guess so.”
Sasha shouted from the living room, “Can we invite Clara to swim with us?”
“Not this time,” I answered.
Or ever.