Page 5 of With a Cherry On Top

I get that Josie is sick, and she needs help before she can come back and care for her daughter, but I’m so fucking mad at her. I can’t help it. She left me here to deal with the aftermath of our relationship failing. With our daughter wondering where her mom is. It’s been two years of this—of her jumping from rehab to rehab, relapse after relapse.

“Why—er, why did you ask me that?”

“Dalton’s mom says you’re divorced and Mom left us behind.”

Dalton’s mom, whoever she is, should chew glass. “Oh, really? Do you know what divorce means?”

When she nods, I do too. “Okay, well...first of all, Mom didn’t leave us behind. She’s not well, and she’s in a place that’ll help her so she can come back to us. But she wishes she could be with you every day.”

We come to a red light and I twist in my seat, turning my focus on Sadie. “But yes, Mommy and I are divorcing.” A light in her eyes dims. “It’s not your fault, and it doesn’t mean we don’t love you or each other. We do, so much.”

“Then why are you not together anymore?”

“Because sometimes you can love someone a lot, but they’re still not good for you.”

Sniffling, she looks down at her lap. “Is Mom sick because you’re not good for her?”

This question isloaded. I take the honest approach with Sadie whenever possible, but how do I explain that, yes,I’m partially responsible for my wife’s drinking, seeing as I unknowingly took her from the love of her life—mylittle brother—and got her pregnant, effectively trapping her in a relationship she didn’t want in the first place?

“You know how Uncle Logan is allergic to strawberries?”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s just fruit. And it’s delicious, right? You love strawberries.” I get a nod. “But they hurt him anyway. It’s like that with me and Mom. Nothing wrong with us, and we love each other. But we don’t want to make each other unwell.”

This time, without any sign of acknowledgment, she turns to the window. Someone behind me presses on the horn, and noticing the light is green, I drive.

I need to change the topic. It feels like that’s all I’ve been doing for months.

“Ian and Amelie invited you to a pajama party.”

She straightens at the news, eyes lighting up in the mirror. “Really? At their house?”

“Yep.”

“Can I take Mollie?”

Mollie. Also known as the worst mistake of the last month. I figured, Sadie has been asking about a pet for as long as I can remember, and what better moment than when she desperately needs a distraction? So I got her the gray-and-brown cat the lady at the local animal shelter swore was “cute as a button.” Instead, I got a demonic beast who wishes upon the destruction of every material good I own.

“No, I think Mollie should stay.” It’s one thing she’s ruining our house, but I can’t let that feral creature loose in someone else’s apartment.

“Pleeeease,” she insists.

“No Mollie, sorry. She’ll keep me company tonight.”

A few minutes of silence go by. I’m about to ask if she wants to put some music on when her small hand reaches forward and squeezes the top of my arm from the back seat.

“You’re not bad, Daddy. Even if you’re like strawberries for Mom. Strawberries are my favorite.”

I swallow down a sob. Dealing with Sadie as a single parent on and off for the past two years has been impossibly hard, but sometimes, she’ll say stuff like this and all the worries and concerns I have over not doing a good job by myself vanish into thin air.

“I love you, baby,” I say as her hand squeezes. “Daddy’s not going anywhere, okay?”

CHAPTER 2

Cherry Mis-Chief

Iglance down at my list and cross off another item. Groceries are done, the kitchen is clean, and the garbage has been dealt with. There’s still a disgusting amount of chores I should take care of, so I check the time and walk to my entryway. I’ll have to stop by the dry cleaner tomorrow, and I should add my coat to the pile.

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