Page 84 of Just This Once

I stride past him, pushing open the front door and storming to the back to find my motherfucker of an ex-husband.He’s in the kitchen and spins to face me with a beer in his hand, expression stony.

“What the hell happened?” I demand, but he doesn’t answer right away. Merely takes a leisurely sip of his beer then moves to lean against the counter. The kitchen—my old kitchen—is huge. The whole house—my old house—is huge because he can afford it. When we divorced, he bought me out, though he fought me tooth and nail on everything. Even wanted to split the garden tools, the rakes and shovels.

Though none of his money can buy him any goddamn sense, compassion, or parenting skills. He sets his beer down and crosses his arms, all smug. “Well, your son thinks I’m a shitty dad, so maybe you should ask him.”

“I’m asking you, Craig. What did you say to him?”

He clucks his tongue. “I told him the truth. If he thinks I’m so shitty, then he doesn’t need me for anything. Good luck paying for college without my money.”

My vision blurs with rage. “You selfish bastard. You think money makes you a father? You think throwing cash at them makes up for all the times you’ve let them down?”

Craig slams his hand on the counter. “I provide for them! That’s more than you can say.”

“You provide the bare minimum,” I hiss, my finger up and pointed in his direction. “You’re always late for Maddie’s events, if you even decide to show up. You never help with homework, you don’t do their laundry, you don’t cook their meals. I mean, my god! You get them for two weekends a month! How much do you think you’re providing for them in that time?”

“I am their father!” he shouts, as if that makes it so, and I take a step closer to him, all of the pent-up rage I’ve felt over the last fifteen years boiling over.

“Being a father is more than monthly checks. If you haven’tfigured that out by now, then you have your answer as to whymyson would call you a shitty dad, because that is what you are.”

His smile is pure self-importance. “You wouldn’t even begin to know what a good dad is, seeing as yours walked out on you.”

I refuse to let him see how much that hurts and instead throw it back on him. “Unfortunately for you, yours stuck around to spoil you and give you everything so you never had to work a day in your life. Just ran to Daddy with every problem or whenever you needed money. It’s so easy for you to play the victim when you’re really the villain.”

He steps closer to me, and I’m not afraid of him hitting me. In fact, I keep my hands behind my back, because I fear what I might do without thinking, and he wouldloveto call the cops on me. “You’ve been poisoning the kids against me from day one,” he grits out, proving my point. “This is all your fault.”

“Sure. Go ahead and believe that, but it’s not me they are trying to get away from right now. It’s you. And it’s not you they call when they need help. It’s me.”

“You’re such a?—”

“Mom?”

Craig and I both swing around at the sound of Maddie’s voice. Madeline is not a little girl, but the way her shoulders are drooped and her eyes are full of tears, she looks so young now.

“It’s okay,” I tell her, stepping toward her. “Everything is fine. We’re going to go home now.”

Craig makes a sound as if to speak, but when I shoot a glare at him, he closes his mouth. Typical. When the time comes for him to prove he can be a good father, he can’t. He doesn’t know what to say or how to act.

I provide an example of what he should do and caress Maddie’s head. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Whatever you heard, I’msorry. You shouldn’t hear us yelling at each other, but everything is all right. Go get your stuff. Your brother is already in the car. I’ll be out in a minute.”

She nods and turns away. I wait until I hear the front door open and close to face Craig once more. “I’m going to be contacting my lawyer. Don’t expect to see the kids again unless you’re ready to act like the man they need in their lives.”

I’m impressed that my voice is so steady. Resolute. When I’m shredded inside. For my children. For myself. For what could have been. For what I haven’t been able to protect them from.

But I’m done. I can’t continue to put them or myself through this anymore.

Craig doesn’t respond, and I stalk out of the house, leaving him standing alone in the house we used to share. Jake and Maddie are both in the car, buckled up. He’s in the passenger seat, features unreadable, while she’s in the back, crying quietly.

I don’t know what else to say to them besides, “I love you both so much, and I’m really sorry.”

They don’t reply, not that I expect them to, and I swallow down the lump of anxiety in my throat to focus on driving us home, where we all crash on the couch with Frankie. We watch reruns ofNew Girl, and it isn’t until about forty minutes later that Jake finally says, “He brought up Dante, asking about who he is and what I think about him. He was acting like… Like suddenly he had a say in things and had to protect us against this stranger, so I told him Dante has been around more in the last month than he’s been around in the last year. That pissed him off, and I said it wasn’t my fault he’s a shitty dad. That’s when he said if he’s so shitty, I don’t need him for anything. That I could leave and figure out another way of paying for college because hewouldn’t be.”

I put my arm around him, kissing his head, holding him to me like I used to do when he was younger. “You have every right to stand up for yourself and shouldn’t feel bad about speaking your mind.” I rub his back. “You did good.” Then I kiss him again before turning to Maddie to drop a kiss on her head too. “Time for dinner?”

Maddie smiles timidly. Jake lifts a tired shoulder, but he doesn’t say no, so I get up, making sure to tuck the blanket back around them and the dog then shuffle to the kitchen. I’d planned on going to the grocery store this afternoon, but since I never got to do that, I reach for a box of spaghetti and jarred sauce.

We eat huddled together on the couch, balancing our plates in our hands. Whatever was broken today won’t be healed anytime soon, but this is a start, our time to relax and be near one another.

As I hold out my hand to gather their dishes to take to the kitchen, Maddie looks up at me, her eyes serious. “Mom, I don’t want to go back to Dad’s again.”

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