Cleo McDougal Regrets Nothing - Allison Winn Scotch Page 0,11

her only child and she didn’t have very many mom friends), he had confided that his coach this year was being “a total dick.” Lucas had been blessed with a bit of a godly foot, something Cleo assumed he must have gotten from his father, who she thought she remembered had indeed been an athlete. Her son’s natural athleticism had been seamless until middle school, when his legs grew faster than the rest of his body, and he had to reconsider his gait and his balance, and also the other kids were bigger and shoved and elbowed, and everything about Lucas’s game had to be recalibrated. He was up for it, Cleo knew, but he had also had the good fortune of the game always coming easily. And so when he had to exert the effort, he was not pleased.

Which subsequently did not please Cleo. She didn’t want to raise someone who got by with half efforts. She would have to add it to her list of regrets in that case, and it would stay there forever. Cleo saw half-efforted people all the time in Congress, and frankly, they disgusted her. Not because you should apologize for being born into a dynasty or for being carried into your position on a wave of charming popularity, but because if you didn’t do the work once you held the golden ticket, what use were you to anyone?

This privilege reminded Cleo of MaryAnne Newman, who felt entitled to plenty of things, including evidently publishing disparaging op-eds on SeattleToday! about her former best friend. And now Gaby was toying with the idea of Cleo making amends with her? Cleo acknowledged her culpability in the detonation of their friendship, but the salaciousness of the paternity angle was a bridge too far. Really.

“Coach was fine today.”

“Mrs. Godwin dropped you off after practice?”

Lucas finally looked up and met her eyes. “I mean, I’m here, aren’t I?”

Cleo sighed. She’d learned in debate and law school to avoid stupid questions.

“I just wanted to be sure. My day got hectic, and I forgot to check in with her about carpool.”

“She asked me if you were OK after that . . . article.”

“Oh!” Cleo didn’t quite know what to say to this. Emily Godwin was one of her few mom friends at Lucas’s school, but they weren’t friend friends. She couldn’t call her up and say: My chief of staff wants me to expose all of my regrets; can I come cry into a giant vat of wine with you and watch shitty TV to distract myself?

In fact, she had no such friends like that, and maybe she should add that to her list of regrets too. It would be nice to have a normal, nonpolitical friend who didn’t have an angle and who you did more than text about carpool or covering for you at a PTA meeting. (Cleo had never attended a PTA meeting, my God!)

“I’ll text her right now,” Cleo said. “And thank her and tell her that I’m fine.”

“Are you?” Lucas’s face was washed with concern, and Cleo saw him as he used to be, before all the hormones overtook him and hair sprouted from his chin and an occasional crater of a zit planted roots on his forehead. Maybe he’d have been better off with a dad in his life; Cleo didn’t know.

“I am. I’m more worried about you.” Cleo sat on his bed, just on the edge, because he didn’t really like her in his space. “Is there anything else you want to talk about, with . . . that article this morning?” Cleo hoped the answer was no, but she acknowledged that it might be yes, and she’d have to deal with that too. That all this may have reopened questions, wounds about his dad. Obviously Lucas had asked about him from time to time. And she never felt good about her answers: vague, noncommittal, that she hadn’t known him well. What else was there to say? She had tried her best, she’d tried to be all things for him, she’d tried to love him from all sides and perspectives. She had tried to be enough.

“I’m OK,” he said. “Seemed like typical political bullshit.”

Cleo started to chastise him, but what was the point? Bullshit was well incorporated into his vocabulary now. She leaned over and kissed the top of his head, and he didn’t recoil, which was truly something. She did notice that he needed to wash his hair, but because they were having

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