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“She what?” Tala seems horrified. “That bitch.”

“Language.”

“It’s the right word for the situation,” she says. “I thought she was nice. You even looked happy for about six seconds.”

“I was, but it’s okay. I have kids. I can’t exactly send you guys back. There’s a reason your dad didn’t date all this time, Tala. Being a parent makes things hard,” I say as we park right by the yellow door to Thorne Designs. She looks a bit sad at what I’ve said. “I wouldn’t swap you three and all your shit for anything.” It’s not their fault, she shouldn’t feel bad. Tala hops out to go fetch the clothes we ordered.

When she comes out, she’s falling over trying to carry everything herself, so I get out to help her. I do a double take when I see Channing walking up to the door; she slows down. Probably hoping I’ll leave.

“Channing. Hi.” After our talk in the car, Tala’s greeting is restrained.

“Hi,” Channing replies with an awkward wave. She’d obviously tried to miss us, but we’re late after shopping.

“Channing,” I greet her, fighting the feather-light feeling that’s floating my guts, just looking at her has my palms sweating. She looks fucking amazing, her boobs in that outfit will cause a man to have an accident.

“Kalon.” Our eyes lock, and we stare for just long enough that it’s noticeable. Thankfully I have sunglasses on so she can’t actually see me; she’d know I was undressing her with my eyes. A large garbage truck comes barreling past, breaking the connection between us. Channing gags, putting her hand over her mouth. The smell is something rank, it hangs in the hot city air, and she heaves again. Only this time it’s projectile, all over me, the garment bags, and the small bit of sidewalk between us.

“I’m sorry.” Channing looks as if she’s going to burst into tears as she uses a tissue to wipe her mouth.

Oakley rushes to Channing’s side and looks between us. “Uh.” She notices the state of the garment bags, and takes them from me, offering up their small bathroom in the studio so I can clean up.

“That’s okay. I have clean clothes in the car.” I don't want to go inside, I want to get far away from Channing fast. I can feel her watching me pull off the puke covered t-shirt and swap it for a new one at the trunk of my car. I’m checking on Tala and getting the freshly packed clothes from Oakley when I notice she’s done a runner inside. I’m relieved and sort of sad at the same time.

“Sheesh, just the sight of you made her sick,” Tala jokes while wiping her mouth. I furrow my brows when I see she also got sick.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine, Dad.” She plasters a fake smile on her face, which I don’t buy, but I also don’t push. When I’m sure she’s okay, we climb back into the car.

“Was the smell that bad?” I ask.

“It was awful, Dad. I’m surprised you didn’t get sick.”

“Maybe I should have my sinuses checked or something,” I remark, putting my car into drive.

“You are getting old,” Tala teases, and I give her a look.

“I’m not that old. I believe the term is silver fox.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Dad, whatever helps you sleep at night.” She’s full of shit, I’ll give her that. In some ways I think I am old.

“What are you three doing on the weekend?” They’ll be free by then, and I have plans.

“I have polo on Sunday afternoon, otherwise nothing.”

“Want to join me on a weekend away? I’m going to a classic car show at Bear Mountain Inn.”

“Classic cars? Old bits of paper aren't enough? Now you want an old rust bucket car? Where will you park it? We don’t exactly have a garage, and you wouldn’t know what to do with tools. Your age is showing, Dad. I can smell your midlife crisis from here.”

I just wanted to go look, to get out a bit. Something different than usual. “I’m not going to buy a car. Stamps accumulate value, cars eat money, they're worthless things. There’s a spa. And a very nice restaurant.” If she’s with me, she’s not with the boyfriend.

“Okay.” That didn’t take too much convincing. “As long as I’m back for the game Sunday.”

“We can leave early in the morning.” I don’t mind coming back early Sunday to watch her game.

“Are the boys coming?” she asks.

“Do you want them to?”