Page 49 of The Slapshot and the Single Mom
“Don’t call me Mags,” I say through gritted teeth. “And how is it not fair? You’re supposed to have him every other week. Youmaybetake him for one day a month.”
“So, what? You’re saying you don’t want to spend time with your son now?”
“This isn’t about me, Kyle.” I spit the words, rage boiling inside me. Howdarehe suggest that I’m the slacker here? Howdarehe try to turn this around on me?
Another heavy sigh. “Look, Mags. Sorry—Maggie.” He says my name like I’m a toddler he’s appeasing. “I have a work thing that just came up. You know how it is.”
“No, Kyle. I do not. You talk about sports for a living. There are very,veryfew sports emergencies that you’d need to cover last minute. And somehow you use that excuseevery timeyou have your son.”
“I need you to come pick him up. Now.”
It’s not even a question. “I can’t just?—”
“He’s ten. I can leave him home alone until you can deign to wrap up whatever crucially important thingyou’reworking on and come get him. I have to leave in thirty minutes. It’s your call.” And with that, he hangs up.
I hold my phone away from my face, impotent rage making me want to chuck it across the room, but I don’t want to break myphone or anything it might hit. Instead, I stomp over to my bed, fling it down, then sit down hard, burying my face in my hands.
“Was that your ex?” Jack’s soft voice drifts to me from the doorway.
Lifting my head, I meet his sympathetic gaze. “Yeah,” I croak.
“You have to go get your son.” It’s a statement, not a question.
“Yeah,” I croak again. Groping around on my bed, I find my phone, hating the tears welling in my eyes. I stand and sniff really hard, dashing the tears with the back of one hand. “Sorry. I really wish things were different, but this is my life right now.” Swallowing hard, I shake my head, then glance down at my phone. “He says he’s leaving in thirty minutes, and if I’m not there to pick up Liam in time, he’ll just leave him home alone. And while yeah, he’d probably be fine, I don’t want him feeling like he’s being abandoned by both his parents.”
“How long does it take to get to your ex’s place?”
“Twenty minutes.”
Nodding, Jack pulls out his keys. “Let’s go. There’s not time to go back to my place and pick up your car. I’ll drive you, then take you to your car after we’ve picked him up.”
I hesitate for the briefest second. Jack taking me to pick up Liam is … well, I hadn’t really thought about introducing my son to Jack except in the most vague way. It certainly isn’t something I was planning on doing today. And if Kyle sees him …
Well, fuck Kyle and his bullshit. If he has a problem, he should think about that before constantly yanking all of us around.
“Thank you,” I breathe, my shoulders slumping. I stand, looking forlornly at the bag I just finished packing. Guess I won’t be needing that.
Of course, for all I know, I won’t ever need that again. I wouldn’t blame Jack if he decided this kind of bullshit was too much trouble for him. It’s one thing toknowabout all my baggage on an intellectual level. It’s another thing to experience first hand.
Forcing a smile, I head for the door.
Jack stops me, then pulls me into a hug. It takes every ounce of strength I possess to not break down crying into his chest. There’s not time for that right now. If we don’t hurry up, Kyle will just leave, and Liam will be sitting there wondering when I’ll show up.
God, I hate Kyle so much right now. Not just for interrupting my weekend with Jack, though that’s annoying, but for the way everything is always on his schedule. It’s not new, of course, but he’s taken his selfishness to new heights in the last couple of years.
We drive to Kyle’s house in silence only broken by me giving directions. Jack drives a two-door sports car, but the back seat is big enough for Liam, and he might even think getting to ride in a cool car is fun.
Or he will if he’s not too heartbroken from his dad being … himself yet again.
Jack waits in the car by unspoken agreement as I get out and knock on the door.
Kyle answers right away. “Oh, good. From the way you were on the phone, I wasn’t sure you’d make it in time.” He looks at hisphone, checking the time, but I tune out whatever he’s blabbing about.
“You got all your stuff, bud?” I ask Liam, who’s sitting glumly on the couch. Fortunately, Kyle’s door opens into the living room, so I don’t have to go inside to find my son.
He lolls his head in my direction and gives a desultory nod. Poor kid. I hate this for him so much.
“Maggie.” Kyle’s voice cuts through my thoughts, and I glance his way. He’s got his hands in his pockets, standing with his chest puffed out a little in the way he does when he’s irritated he’s not getting enough attention.
