Emergency. I widen my eyes in horror, and Marley drops her head to hide her smile.
“Yes, we have a Cinderella here.” She listens, and her eyes sweep up and down my body. “Okay great, I’ll text you the address.” She hangs up. “Okay, that’s sorted out.”
I smile nervously.
“Marcello will come to your place and do your hair and makeup late on Saturday afternoon.”
I bite my lip to hide my smile. I’ve never had that before. “Is that necessary?”
“Oh my God, darling. Yes. It’s necessary. Now . . . let’s go shopping. I know exactly what you need.”
“Okay, thanks, Barb.” I smile. I rest my foot on top of Tristan’s leg. It’s Thursday night, and Tristan and I are having a glass of wine and watching television in the living room. The boys have miraculously done their homework, dinner is finished and cleaned up, and now they have a precious two hours to work on their model. This bribery of Tristan’s is the best thing since sliced bread. Everyone is behaving and hustling to get things done quickly so they can work on it together.
It’s like the freaking twilight zone or some shit.
“Are you sure that’s okay?” I listen to my girlfriend as we speak on the phone. I’m arranging for Harry to stay at her place on Saturday night. Fletcher is staying here with two friends, and Patrick is taken care of, but it’s Harry that I have to really check on.
“Of course, Claire, he’ll be fine. We will get pizza and watch movies.”
“Thanks so much. I’ll see you then.”
“Okay, see you on Saturday,” she replies, and I hang up.
Tristan raises an eyebrow. “We good?” he asks hopefully.
“All good.” I smile. “Who knew that Tristan Miles would be excited about locking in a babysitter?”
He chuckles and clinks his glass with mine. “Right?”
“Seriously, though, it is a relief. Barb is the only one I would leave Harrison with.”
“What’s gone on with Harrison in the past to make you so nervous about leaving him?”
I let out a big sigh. “He can be a nightmare.”
“How? I mean, I know he’s a bit mischievous and all that, but isn’t that normal at his age?”
I sit back and sip my wine. “Oh hell, where do I start? He’s been suspended from school. He disappears for hours at a time and then lies about where he’s been, sneaks off to friends’ houses without permission. He’s fallen in with this party crowd but then denies he’s been with them.”
“Suspended from school—what for?”
I roll my eyes. “For some reason, he’s under the impression that the teachers pick on him. One day he got a project back, and he thought he should have gotten a higher grade, and he got into a full-blown argument with his teacher.”
“So . . . he was cheeky?” Tris frowns.
“No.” I shake my head in embarrassment. “He opened the window and threw his assignment out of it in protest.”
Tristan’s eyes widen.
“But that’s not the worst of it. It accidently hit a janitor who was walking past and scratched his head. They thought he needed stitches. It was mortifying.”
Tristan bites his bottom lip as he tries to hide a smile.
“It was so embarrassing—you have no idea, Tristan.”
He sips his wine as he pulls a straight face. “I can imagine.”
I smile and rub my foot up his calf muscle. “Thank you.”
His eyes hold mine as his fingers draw a circle on my shoulder. “For what?”
“For making the trek out to see me every night.” I shrug bashfully. “I know you hate the couch.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Well . . . I hate being at home without you more.”
I smile and lean in and put my head on his shoulder. It’s so nice having someone . . . wonderful, actually. He kisses my forehead, and we go back to watching television and our blissful silence. He doesn’t even have to talk to me.
Him just being here is enough to make me happy.
“You know, as I was walking in here today, a bowerbird swooped at my balls.”
I sit up with a frown. “A what?”
“A bowerbird.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
He rolls his eyes at my apparent stupidity. “Everyone knows what a bowerbird is, Claire. I suggest you google it.”
I stare at him in question, and after a while he replies, “A bowerbird collects blue things, Claire.” He raises an eyebrow as he waits for me to get it.
Oh . . . he’s telling me he has blue balls. I smirk. “Whatever.”