Page 45 of Bad Husband

“You look…” I breathe in, watching Madison move around the kitchen. “…pretty today.”

“Thanks,” she mumbles, keeping her distance from me.

“Do you need help?”

“No, I think I got this, but can you make sure Noah has pants on? He didn’t earlier, and I don’t want people showing up when his pants are off.”

I chuckle and itch my balls by sticking my hand right down my shorts. “I wish I didn’t have to wear pants today because you know, my balls still itchso bad.”

I know what you’re thinking, gross, right?

Just wait. I do this on purpose because the moment I stick my hand down my pants, Madison’s eyes follow as if she can’t help butt drag her eyes there. She’s just about to say something when Nathalie walks in carrying a box of what looks to be cake. “That’s disgusting! Wash your hands!”

Madison laughs and shakes her head as I remove my hand.

Moving past Nathalie, I’m behind her about two feet and then lunge back at her, my ball sweat hand covering her mouth. “You were saying?”

It’s really paybacks for her son ruining my delicious steak the other night.

But here’s the thing, I should have looked at what she had in her hand when I did. Whatever’s in her hand makes contact with my junk. Hard. I don’t even know what was in her hand, but it hurts.

I may never father another child, and I’m pretty sure I can’t breathe.

Yep. Can’t breathe.

Falling to the floor, I curl into a fetal position. Madison walks over to me, shakes her head and then steps over me like she holds no concern for me and my pain. “Go find Noah and his pants.”

Nathalie, on the other hand, is gagging in the kitchen sink and washing her mouth out with soap.

“I hope you get diarrhea,” I mumble when I can breathe again.

She spits bubbles at me. “I hope you die of blunt force trauma!”

HAVE YOU EVER been to a child’s birthday party?

They’re awful if you ask me, but no one does today and I’m glad they don’t. Mostly because after two beers, I’m afraid I’ll give them my honest opinion.

Guess who I meet at the birthday party?

Pedro. Remember the pool guy? I’m very excited about this because I want to see if there’s anything going on with him and my wife, and I know I’ll be able to tell when I see them together.

I motion for Callan to come over when I see a darker-skinned man appear with what looks to be his son and he’s staring at the pool. “Who’s that guy?” I ask Callan when he’s next to me, kneeling to his level.

“Pedro.”

He acts like I should know him, and I sorta feel weird that I don’t. “Who’s he?”

“He’s the pool guy. You hired him, Dad.”

I raise an eyebrow and stand up. “I did?”

“Yeah.” And then Callan walks away probably thinking I’m crazy. Which really wouldn’t be a surprise.

Intending on asking Madison about Pedro, I walk inside the house to find her arranging the cookies on a platter as kids rush around the house.

“Why are these cookies shaped like rats?”

Madison hands me a white rat cookie. “Because it’s a reptile and rodent party.”

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