Page 1 of Breakout
prologue
FIVE YEARS OLD
Iwatch as Mommy curls her hair.
“Are you sure I can’t go with you?” I whine.
Mommy laughs. “Not this time, sweetheart. Today’s Mommy and Daddy’s anniversary, and we are going out to celebrate.”
“What’s an anniversary again?”
She sets her curling iron down and picks up a can. She sprays the yucky-smelling stuff all over her hair. I hate that stuff. If I stand too close, it touches my skin and makes me feel sticky.
Once she’s done, she walks over and crouches down next to me.
“Well, years ago, before you were even thought of, Daddy and I got married. We promised to love each other forever in front of all of our family and friends. Today marks ten yearssince we made that promise to each other, so we are going to go celebrate.”
“I don’t see why I can’t go,” I mutter.
Mommy smiles softly as she runs her hand over my hair. “I know it’s hard to understand, but trust me when I tell you it’s important for mommies and daddies to take the time to go out just by themselves. Now enough, are you ready to hang out with Marcy?”
Marcy is the teenage girl who lives next door and watches me when Mommy and Daddy have something going on that I can’t go to. She plays games with me and cuddles when we watch movies. She’s nice and nothing like the babysitters I’ve seen on TV.
“Yeah, she promised me we could watchMulan.”
“And eat ice cream, I assume.” Mommy tickles my neck, making me laugh.
“We’re going to do sundaes.”
“Oh, how fancy,” she teases before she stands and holds out her hand. “Do you want to help me pick out a dress?”
I hop off the closed toilet seat and take her hand. When we enter her bedroom, I jump onto her bed and cross my legs. Mommy walks over to her closet and begins to move hangers around.
“What do you think of this dress, Pey?” she asks as she holds it up to herself.
The dress is red with white polka dots.
My nose crinkles. “It looks like a tablecloth.”
“No, it doesn’t!” She laughs as she hangs it back up before grabbing another. “What about this one?”
This one’s blue with white straps.
“You wear that in the summer, and it’s not summer,” I point out.
“True,” she says as she places it back in the closet and grabs another. “This one?”
The dress is black and shines when the light hits it just right.
“That dress is pretty. You should wear that one.”
“You are such a big help, Pey. What would I do without you?” She walks over and kisses the top of my head before going back into the bathroom to get dressed.
When she comes back out, I watch her stand and put on her jewelry in the mirror on her dresser.
Her eyes meet mine, and she smiles. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
