Page 12 of Slayer Mom
“I want to do better; it’s just been difficult at work lately.”
“Then maybe you should retire, or get a new job, or just admit that you like working all the time because you feel in control or whatever.”
“I’m willing to do marriage counseling.”
“I’m not.” Can you imagine? ‘What are your deepest fears, Lucy?’ ‘Zombies.’ ‘Why aren’t you close to your husband anymore?’ ‘Zombies and nutmeg.’ Yeah, no. I pulled out my phone and found a place that would deliver a bed this afternoon. He didn’t say anything else, so I assumed that he’d gone to get the boys. Since he’d taken over, he could do some driving. I hated driving the boys to things. It was my least favorite part of the gig, but like any good mother, I did what I should instead of what I wanted. But now no one needed or wanted a good mother, or a mother of any kind.
Hazen had talked about boarding schools a few times, but I’d always said how terrible they were. Did I shut him down? I shook my head. I wasn’t going to worry about it. Right now, the most important thing was to take a shower while they were all gone, and then make sure they packed everything they’d need.
I showered and then made lists, which I clipped to their luggage, all while wearing latex gloves. Hopefully it was thick enough to keep out smells. When I went back into the closet, right as Hazen pulled into the drive behind my car, I went on Youtube and watched videos on giving people stitches.
Hazen knocked on my door. “I have your pumpkin spice decaf latte. Will you open the door, or do you want me to put it on the floor outside?”
He made me sound like a lunatic.
I opened the door a crack and held out my hand. “Thank you.”
He brushed my fingers with his and then I felt the unmistakable press of his lips across the sensitive skin on the back of my knuckles. I shivered, and agonizing misery and aching swept through me. How had we drifted so far apart? He was everything to me, but now it was all big house, with no one in it. And it would be even worse without Wat and Lock.
I searched for the cup and then pulled it in and closed the door firmly between us before sliding down to the floor. There was no going back to innocence once you’d found the undead. No going back to obliviously happy once you realize that all that time you were building a lie.
four
. . .
The flight was awkward.I’d gotten a seat across the aisle from my sons and husband, so I could have reached out and held his hand if I’d wanted to. Not that we did that kind of thing anymore. I kept my sunglasses on and a big scarf wrapped around my shoulders. Planes always made me cold, or maybe that was zombies. Not that there seemed to be any zombies on the plane. I kept looking. I hadn’t been able to bring my knife, which made me nervous. I’d started thinking of Tom’s old knife as mine. That was probably a bad sign.
“Do you want to sit by the window?” Hazen asked, leaning over the aisle.
“No.”
“You must really be feeling festive with all the fall drinks you’ve been getting. Do you prefer the chai or the decaf latte?”
I looked down at my drink. They shouldn’t have let me on with it, but my husband had been particularly persuasive to the flight attendant. He was so handsome, and so charming when he wasn’t stealing your children.
“Well?”
Oh yes, he’d asked me a question. Chai or decaflatte. Here we go on our new drink-based romance. “I like them both.” Not really. “But I prefer the chai over the other one.” Would we make it to the hotel in time to take a shower before we went on the school tour or would I need to sponge down in the airplane’s bathroom?
“We missed you during the movie last night. We watched an old martial arts show that you would have liked.”
“Sorry.” I’d been busy researching how to break into houses, you know, so I could practice on my house and see if it worked. There’d also been this weekend’s itinerary to plan. There hadn’t been a lot of hotels close enough to the school to shower.
“None of the other kid’s parents will be there,” Wat said with a scowl. I still hadn’t addressed the issue with him, you know, disrespecting his mother, lighting someone on fire, that issue.
“And…?” I said, giving him a look that he couldn’t see behind my sunglasses.
“It’ll be embarrassing.” He added a defiant glare to that.
“How rude of you to admit that you’re embarrassed by your mother. Wat, I didn’t raise you to be rude, so please apologize. If you aren’t well-behaved, I’ll be the most embarrassing parent you could ever hope for, starting with lighting my bra on fire.”
His face went blank with shock, and I went back to my quiet meditation after he mumbled an apology. Maybe I’d light my bra on fire anyway.
“That won’t be necessary,” Hazen said in a low voice. “Will it, Wat?”
Wat gave his father a look that I would call pure hatred, which was unusual, because my husband was as good at persuading him as anyone else. “No, sir.”
Lock elbowed his brother.
