Page 53 of Like Home
“Yeah,so well. He thanked me for my concern and reminded me what a fantastic mother I am. He’s putting me up for a good citizen award.”
“No way. You’ll definitely win,” he deadpans. Both of us laugh and I enjoy the break in tension, feeling my jaw unclench for the first time this afternoon. Once we sober he nudges, “No really. How did it go?”
I sigh and respond, “Not great. He accused you and me of meddling and told me to mind my own business. He can, and I quote, ‘handle his friend without me and my little boyfriend.’ Can you hear my eyes rolling? He’s literally the most dramatic person ever. I swear, if you had met him a year ago, you would think he was level-headed and dependable, if not a little self-centered sometimes. But that was overshadowed by the fact that he was such a good father.”
“I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry that he isn’t turning out to be the person you thought he was,” Ryan says softly.
“It’s just crazy how much a person can change when they don’t get their way.” I sigh, trailing my fingers along my string-of-pearls plant. “I cleared my conscience. I told him that I was worried and that he should see about getting Duncan some help. I can’t do any more than that.”
“Nope. You did what you could for a person who has been nothing but rude to you for almost a decade.”
I nod even though he can’t see and ask, “So what are you up to tonight?”
“I’m going to go out with the guys. They said something about a new action movie. As long as it's indoors and has air conditioning, we could be watching paint dry for all I care.”
“Yeah, you were in the heat again today, weren’t you? I’m sorry,” I say sympathetically, “I hate the idea of you working outside in the middle of the day when it’s hotter than satan’s left tit.”
“Is his right tit known to be cooler?” he asks dubiously.
“Smart ass,” I retort, laughing again. “Okay, I’ll let you go so you can get ready to watch people get blown up or whatever.”
When he speaks, I can hear the smile in his voice, “Thanks, babe. I’ll see you soon, okay? I miss you.”
“I miss you too. Have fun tonight,” I say.
“I will. Love you.” No matter how often I hear it, I can’t get past the swarm of butterflies that take flight in my abdomen when he tells me he loves me.
“I love you too. Bye.” When we hang up, I feel so much more at ease. It’s amazing how much just speaking to him grounds me. He always knows how to calm me down and make me feel better.
I breathe in through my nose and wrinkle it when I realize I smell like dust and dirty dishwater. I decide a bath is in order, even if itishotter than satan’s left tit out there. I head to my bedroom where I strip off my biker shorts and t-shirt and start the bath.
While it's filling up, I go back into the bedroom to grab my newest book,Obsession, off my bedside table. I could only get a chapter or so in last night before giving up and going to bed. The one thing that hasn’t changed in the last six months is how exhausting motherhood is, especially solo parenting. It never ceases to amaze me just how much energy my daughter has andhow much it feels like that energy gets funneled directly from my own reserves.
I step into the steaming bath and sink down into its warmth. After drying my fingers on my nearby towel, I open the book and gently set my rose quartz bookmark down on the side of the tub. I fully intend to read until my toes are pruny and the water turns cold.
CHAPTER 35
Ryan
Iput the finishing touches on my time card for this week, ready to head out since the fluorescent office lighting makes my eyes ache. I hate doing the damn time card, even though I understand it’s necessary. Billable hours and all that. Still, I wish there was some automated way to do it instead of having to go into explicit detail over every working hour, attaching each one to specific jobs. I always forget to do it until the last second, and I spend the last couple hours of the pay period scrambling to get it together. I’m reading over it one more time, the ache in my eyes getting worse as I try to focus on the tiny typeset in the Excel spreadsheet cells when my phone starts buzzing.
I let out a sigh of relief, glad for something to pull me away, and answer. “Hello, this is Ryan.” I close my eyes and rub them, making a mental note to get an eye exam soon.
A voice crackles down the line, sounding muffled and a little far away. “Ryan, hey man, this is Jared.”
My head rears back in shock and I clarify, “Forrester?”
“Yeah.” My eyes spring open and narrow in confusion.
“Uh. What can I do for you?” I’m trying to stay as polite as Ican in my bewilderment. I don’t want to give him any ammunition.
His voice breaks up again, and all I can make out is, “Can you… Emma?”
“Sorry man, you’re breaking up pretty bad. What about Emma?”
“Sorry, heading out to a work emergency. Better?” His voice sounds a little clearer, but it's still tough to make out. It makes sense that the call quality is so bad if he’s headed off to some lumber emergency. Summer usually has to rely on text messages when he’s at work to communicate about Emma. When I confirm I can hear him, he continues, “Can you pick up Emma from gymnastics in, like, twenty minutes? I can’t be there and I already tried to call Summer. She didn’t answer.”
I’m stunned by the request seeing as he’s had a zero-tolerance policy against this very thing: Me having even casual contact with Emma. “Are you sure?” I ask slowly, wondering if this is a test.
