Chapter 2: The Meeting

The house is in Brentwood and it's worth maybe four million and I've only lived here for eight months since the divorce and Chloe is supposed to stay here every other week but she's been at her mother's for the last three weeks and when I ask about it everyone says it's fine and that she's just busy with school and I don't push it because I don't know what to push against.

I order sushi from Sugarfish. California rolls and salmon nigiri and tuna tataki and edamame and miso soup that no one will eat. It arrives at six-thirty. Jennifer is supposed to be here at seven with Derek and Chloe.

I'm wearing a James Perse t-shirt and AG jeans and I'm barefoot and I think about changing into something more formal but I don't know what that would be or why it would matter. I open a bottle of Sancerre and pour a glass and stand in the kitchen and look at the sushi and wonder if I should have ordered more or less or different things entirely.

At seven-fifteen Jennifer texts that they're running late.

At seven-thirty Chloe texts me a skull emoji.

At seven-forty-five they arrive. I hear the car in the driveway and I look out the window and it's Jennifer's white Range Rover and she gets out and she's wearing a Vince dress I bought her for her birthday two years ago and her hair is different, shorter, and then Derek gets out from the passenger side and he's maybe forty and he's wearing a polo shirt and khaki pants and boat shoes without socks and he looks like someone who sells real estate or manages a gym.

Chloe gets out from the back and she's changed clothes. She's wearing black jeans and a hoodie that says THRASHER and her hair is down now.

I open the door before they knock.

"Hi," Jennifer says.

"Come in," I say.

Derek extends his hand. "Derek Morrison," he says. His grip is firm and he makes eye contact and he smiles and I hate him immediately.

"Thanks for having us," he says.

I didn't have you, I think, but I don't say it. Chloe walks past me without looking and goes directly to the kitchen and I hear the refrigerator open.

"Can I get anyone a drink," I say.

"Water would be great," Derek says.

"I'll have wine," Jennifer says.

I pour Jennifer a glass of the Sancerre and get Derek a Pellegrino from the fridge and Chloe is standing there eating edamame directly from the container and I want to tell her to use a plate but I don't.

We sit in the living room. Jennifer and Derek on the couch. Chloe in the chair by the window, still eating edamame. Me on the other chair.

"So," Jennifer says.

No one says anything.

"Derek and I have been seeing each other for about four months now," Jennifer says and looks at Chloe when she says this and Chloe doesn't look up.

"Okay," I say.

"And we wanted to all sit down together because we think it's important that Chloe gets to know Derek and that we're all on the same page."

"What page is that," I say.

Jennifer looks at me and I can see she's trying not to be angry and Derek puts his hand on her knee and she softens slightly and this small gesture of intimacy in my living room makes me want to throw them both out.

"The page where we all want what's best for Chloe," Jennifer says.

"I'm right here," Chloe says. "You can stop talking about me like I'm not."

"You're right," Derek says and turns toward her. "I'm sorry. That was thoughtless."

Chloe looks at him for the first time. "Who even are you," she says.

"Chloe," Jennifer says.

"No, it's a fair question," Derek says. He's still smiling. "I'm someone who cares about your mom. And I'd like to get to know you, if you'll let me."

"Cool," Chloe says. "I'm someone who doesn't give a fuck."

"Chloe," I say this time.

She stands up. "Is that it. Can I go now."

"We're not done," Jennifer says.

"I am," Chloe says and walks toward the stairs.

"Chloe," Jennifer calls after her but she's already gone and I hear her door slam upstairs.

We sit in silence. Derek is still smiling but it looks strained now. Jennifer is looking at her wine glass.

"That went well," I say.