I was annoyed.
Annoyed and frustrated. Not with either of them and certainly not at my daughter, but with my ex-husband, who still couldn't seem to handle a single tough moment as a parent even though she was sixteen and we'd already been divorced for more than three years. Furthermore, he'd known how hard the divorce was on Lainey because she was still in middle school when we first split up and unlike Maddie, who was in college, couldn't escape and had to live through just about all of it.
Naturally, she hated his new girlfriend and after my husband moved her into his new place, Lainey didn't want to spend time there. I don't blame her, of course, but I also wanted to follow all of the arrangements and agreements because I was paranoid he'd find some way to weasel out of paying what he owed me. So I sat her down and was honest with her about why she had to spend every other weekend with him and that she could text me whenever she needed anything.
It worked until fairly recently, and that's why I was standing in my bedroom wearing fishnets and high heels, my chest covered in cum, cutting my afternoon short. They were understanding (albeit disappointed) and went home, where I know they got to finish things properly once they got the chance. As for me, I showered, dressed, quickly discarded any evidence of our tryst, then treated my daughter to a night out. Later, I finished things for myself.
Then, for a month, nothing. Lainey stayed exclusively with me while I played main negotiator; I got slammed at work planning for my organization's spring gala; and I barely saw any friends, let alone her, except for the occasional cup of coffee. I'll admit, too, that it was a little more awkward than the times we'd gotten together after my Christmas party. I don't think anything had really changed; I told myself we were both incredibly busy and stressed. We talked mostly about our kids, work stress, and aside from her accepting my invite to that gala (we need tickets and donations, after all), none of our escapades were mentioned. Then again, we were in a Starbucks that was always filled with people we knew (or who knew people we knew), so you could never tell who was going to overhear.
At the beginning of April, she texted me to let me know that her husband was taking their son to a baseball game so she was free to hang out. The high school kids had been on spring break all week and while I love my daughter, I needed to be around someone other than a teenager (who was still refusing to see her father, although we were going to try again a week or two later), so I gladly accepted. Saturday rolled around and just after dinner, I told Lainey that I was heading around the corner for drinks. She could text me if she needed me, but I knew she wouldn't; she was home and chatting with her friends while binging her favorite show. So if I were to get up to anything, I'd be in the clear.
Of course, you have to know that I didn't assume anything was going to happen. I was ready, though.
I grabbed a bottle of wine and headed over, dressed in a T-shirt and leggings with a denim jacket and my hair pulled into a ponytail. She answered wearing a T-shirt and jeans and I immediately noticed that she'd cut her hair short again. It swept across her forhead and hit just below her ears.
"Thanks," she said when I complimented her, and explained that the long hair had started to annoy her and reminded her why she'd kept it short to begin with. I responded with a nervous chuckle.
But after an hour and a couple glasses of wine, my nerves cooled. We sat on her couch and talked about work, upcoming travel and vacation plans, what we were watching, and our kids. We were both animated and laughing and you couldn't have guessed that there was any awkwardness at all. Then, she asked about how my daughter was doing after all that drama. I clenched up a little.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up such a sore subject," she said.
"No, it's okay. I just wish he wasn't so useless, you know?"
"Yeah."
"At least you've got a husband who genuinely likes spending time with your kid," I said, "And likes you."
"Don't sell yourself short. He likes you, too," she chuckled.
I laughed, feeling the ice break again. "Well... the feeling's mutual."
"Oh, I'm aware of that," she replied.
I took another sip of wine. "Is it wrong that I was annoyed at him for interrupting us?"
"No, it's not. Although I guess it could have been worse?"
"Oh God. Could you imagine if he just dropped her off? How would we explain that?"
She laughed and snorted a little, which made me laugh. I refilled our glasses and sighed. "It was really fun, though."
"I'd say it was more than that," she said before taking a sip.
"Yeah. I... well, I'd say you got what you, uh... came there for?"
"Oh, I came all right," she laughed. I groaned and took another gulp of wine and there were a few quiet moments before she said, "So I was wondering..."
"Hmm?" I asked.
"Well, I know we were interrupted, but I did get what I wanted. So I guess we should plan what's next?"
"Right," I replied, "What are you thinking about?"
"I'm wondering what you're thinking about, actually. It's your... uh, turn."
"Oh yeah," I said and drank some more wine.
"I mean, I don't want to force anything. I know you've been very busy planning the gala and with all of this family drama, so I get it if you haven't had time to think about it."
"Oh, I've thought about it. Trust me," I said with a nervous laugh.
"Nice. So what is it?" she asked.
I breathed in, placed my wine glass on a coaster, reached across the crouch and kissed her. We broke apart, kissed again and while I slid my tongue into her mouth, she put her own glass down. I leaned in closer so that I was right on top of her while we made out, and she ran her hands up and down my back.
A few moments later, we came up for air. "You sure?" she asked.
I kissed her again while squeezing her breast over her shirt. "Yeah."
"You know I'll have to tell him about it."
"I'm counting on it," I replied.
