Page 1 of Finally, Our Forever

Maci Kate Gallagher

“Yes Mom, I know I need to be there in an hour,” I drone.

Why is this woman telling me, again, what time the barbecue is starting? Like she hasn’t already told me five times? I mean, I know I’ll probably be late to my own funeral, but come on, I’m an adult. At twenty-six, I think I’ve earned the right to be treated as an adult, and less like a child.

“Don’t you ‘yes Mom’ me, Maci Kate. I want you and Bennett here early.”

“So, what you’re saying is the party isn’t really starting in an hour, and I can be a little late if I have to be?”

I snicker, knowing she’s going to blow a fuse any minute now from dealing with my crazy.

“Maci, your ass better be in this house by the time noon hits, or you’re going to be one sorry girl!” she scolds.

After twenty-six years, Cassandra Lee Gallagher still scares the bejeezus out of me. So, although I love riling her up, I will be there when she tells me to. Today only, since she needs me and all.

“I got ya’, Momma. I’ll be there, with Bennett in tow. Love you, Mom. Gotta get in the shower if you want me there so early.”

As I go to click off the phone, I hear her say, “Of course she hasn’t gotten in the freaking shower yet…”

I laugh to myself. I know I’m a lazy ass on the weekends, but hey, they’re mine, and I will spend them how I want. I get up early Monday through Friday to get Bennett to VPK and me to work on time. By the time I drag my tired ass home from school, where twenty-two third graders have annihilated me with their madness, I’m exhausted. I still have dinner, bath, and bedtime to get through. So yes, I will most likely be in my yoga pants and tank tops, vegging out with my main man on the weekends.

Hearing a loud thud coming from the living room, I check on Bennett, who is currently sporting a chocolate milk ’stache and Spider-Man PJ pants. This four-year-old has mastered the art of entertaining himself. His specialty is the high jump from the couch cushions, followed by a flip, onto the hard wood floors. I roll my eyes at my son.

“Hey, booger, we’re going to Nana’s soon. I’m getting a shower. Be good and we’ll get you ready soon, okay?”

He looks over from the TV show he’s trying to emulate, nods his head at me, and goes back to living room karate. I go to my room and open the closet. Damn, I have a shit ton of laundry I need to finish. Hell, what am I going to wear today? It’s late October in Sweet Briar, Tennessee. Fall is here, cooling off the mountains, and I couldn’t be happier. I tap my index finger to my chin as my eyes sweep my deathtrap of a closet, trying to figure out my outfit dilemma.

At 5’1”, I’m on the softer side of curvy. My thighs touch, my arms jiggle, and I have a round face. I’ve also got a big ass, huge tits, and a natural tan. Thank you, genetics. You won’t hear me complaining. I’m confident in the way I look, even if I’m not most men’s wet dream. Men are the last thing I need to be worrying about these days—Bennett is way more than enough for me to handle.

I glance over at my nightstand that is currently holding my iPad. I shake my head at my decision to read my current book. I should have gotten a jump on my piles of laundry instead. I turn back to my closet and grab a pair of dark wash cropped jeans and an orange cardigan, deciding to wear it over one of my many white short-sleeved t-shirts. It will be comfy and cute. Score!

I hop in the shower to get my mess of dark hair washed. Twenty minutes later, I step out of my room. My long hair is up in one of my infamous messy buns, and I’m sporting the outfit I picked out earlier. I’m feeling good, especially with my signature Calvin Klein perfume sprayed all over me. Yeah, I’m a smell person. I love amazing smelling things like candles and wax burners—not to mention perfumes, body sprays, and lotions. I also love men’s cologne. And I do mean love, not like. Guys are even sexier when they smell all spicy and clean

“Benny, it’s time to get ready, little man,” I say as I round the corner to the living room.

I’m confused when the toons aren’t blaring, and I look up to find my ex, David, sitting on the couch with my son grinning in his lap. I see red immediately. My doors have been locked since I went to bed last night. I stop my entrance into the living room, and my spine stiffens. What. In. The. Actual. Fuck? Why is he here in my home? My home that he hasn’t lived in for over two years? I bought him out of his part of the house. He shouldn’t have keys anymore, which was part of the agreement in our divorce.

My eyes take in his 6’2” muscular frame. He’s a good-looking man with tan skin and light brown, short cropped hair. He isn’t mine though, not anymore. He hasn’t been mine since finding him in bed with one of my so-called friends over two years ago.

It was a hard decision that took me way too long to make. In the end, his affair made the decision clear and easy for me to follow through with the divorce. I wasn’t in love with my husband as I should have been. We didn’t click. We never had the relationship that I always wanted to.

He didn’t make the divorce easy, dragging it on longer than necessary. He tried using our son to get what he wanted, which was me. David wanted back in our house and me as his wife. After months of me not conceding, he finally signed the papers. We agreed to co-parent our son and share custody—not that he’s been picking Bennett up as much as he did in the beginning. It’s getting less and less as time goes on. I know he’s busy, being a cop and all, but he needs to make more time for his son.

I wonder why he’s here. I picked Bennett up last night after spending one night, not the three that were planned, with his dad. What’s up his sleeve? He didn’t mention anything to me about coming over today. My gaze goes to my happy son. His joyful expression from having both his parents in his home again kills me, but I remain strong.

“Benny, go to your room and start getting ready to go to Nana’s house, okay?”

“Ah Mom, not yet. Daddy just got here,” he whines, giving me his irresistible puppy dog eyes.

“Now, mister. We are already running a little late as it is.”

I said this, hoping David would catch on to the fact that I don’t have time for a long conversation.

“Yes ma’am,” he says quietly, and walks with his head down to his room.

“Your outfit is on your bed, Bennett. Make sure to go brush your teeth first!” I holler after his retreating body.

Bennett changes directions and walks to the bathroom. When I hear him turn the faucet on to start brushing, I turn to David.

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