Page 27 of Axe Backwards
See? Quite a trio.
Alice leaned back against the couch cushion, smiling. “I think theI don’t give a fucklook suits you.”
The bark of a laugh that escaped me echoed off the tall wood-paneled ceiling.
“That is true,” Becca said, scooping up a bite of eggplant parm. “After you had that stick up your ass surgically removed, your complexion has improved. Your skin has never looked better.”
Alice sipped from her glass of water, then carefully set it on a coaster on the end table. “You’re glowing. Are you finally sleeping again?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m getting less sleep than usual, actually. I’m helping out my neighbor. His baby won’t sleep, so I’m walking circles with her in the middle of the night.”
“So the rumors are true?” Becca clapped, her face lighting up. “You’re boning the hot single dad?”
Alice wiggled in her seat. “I heard it from Steph, who heard it from Cole at knitting club, so I know the intel is good.”
“Guys. No.” My stomach sank. Damn Lovewell and its rumor mill. “Not at all.”
As if choreographed, their faces fell simultaneously.
“We’ve become friends. He recently moved cross-country with a baby, and I’ve been all messed up about Alexandra’s pregnancy and the wedding.”
Alice gasped, her eyes widening. “Alex is pregnant?”
I nodded.
Becca stood and paced to one side of the room, then stomped back. “Your ex is a motherfucker. Your sister too. I hate them both, and I’ve never even met them.”
Alice shimmied off the couch and wandered into the kitchen. A moment later, she returned with another bottle of wine. “How did they even end up together?”
The answer to that question was more than a little complex. So I went with the simplest explanation I could. “Alexandra is the princess of the family. She’s a lot younger than Elizabeth and me, and what she wants, she gets.”
Becca cocked a brow. “Including your shitty ex.”
I shrugged and held out my empty wineglass to Alice. “I guess so.”
She obliged, using a heavy hand as she poured. “Is Elizabeth okay with this?”
“I guess. She lives in her own world. She’s got her own problems. Two homes, three kids, and one semi-public cheating scandal. A few years ago, Ralph slept with my niece’s kindergarten teacher.”
“Jesus.”
“They moved and pretended it never happened. Now she’s addicted to Pilates and Adderall.”
“God, your family sounds like the definition of dysfunctional.” The second the words left her mouth, Becca grimaced. “Sorry. That was harsh.”
I shrugged. Therapy had given me some perspective. I wanted to love them, and I wanted relationships with them all, but I had grown to accept we were too different.
“How did they take it when you got divorced?” Alice asked.
“My mom was furious. Screamed at me and then gave me the silent treatment for weeks. She doesn’t believe chronic cheating and infecting one’s spouse with an STI should be grounds for divorce.”
“Oh fuck.”
“Yup.” My stomach twisted painfully. “So much fucking fun. I was the family disgrace, especially after my sister stayed with her husband when he cheated. My mother said to me, ‘You think you deserve better, but you don’t.’”
In unison, my friends screamed.
Alice leaned forward, bottle held out to top off my wine again.
