some sort of indication as to what has my sister so freaked out. Rowan’s touch is the comfort I covet at this moment.
“I’m giving her space. Pushing her has never worked when it comes to my sister,” I explain when my text alert goes off in my hand. Searching my messages, I feel my stomach plummet.
Jessica: Whit would kill me if she knew I was telling you this, but I’ve never seen Whit so upset. Her dad called her and got her all spun up. She headed home afterward. I guess he’s rethinking his decision to let her live with you. And he mentioned contesting it.
“Fuck!” I yell so loud, and Knox, who had been in deep concentration in the game, pushes off the couch, moving toward me. I don’t attempt to explain and simply hand them the phone in order to read Jessica’s explanation.
“What does this mean?”
For the few years he lived with us, it was hell, and he treated my mother like his own personal servant. I’ve always hated the man.
“I don’t know,” I answer the guys, and sure as shit, this has ruined my entire day with the men.
I’m at the office by eight the next morning to call my social worker. I didn’t sleep at all last night, and at the urgency of the guys to spend the night, I stayed at my house. I wouldn’t leave Whitney in case she’d been ready to talk with me.
My calls keep going to our social worker, Cassie’s, voice mail. I slam my phone on the desk, swearing with vehemence and frustration. And since Murphy’s law is a bitch, my boss chooses this time to walk by my office.
He pokes his head through the open door. “Morning, Avery. Everything okay?”
He understands the stress I’m under with the new doll line and the custody hearing.
“Oh, Mr. Milner. My apologies. Just dealing with my sister’s custody hearing. A little frustration this morning.” I’m normally a pretty private person. However, he had to sign off on my work experience and financials.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” He’s a kind and older man, who has already written the sweetest reference letter for the judge, and the only one of my bosses who liked my last design when the others didn’t.
“No, sir. Hopefully, it’s an easy fire to put out,” I reply, and my cheeks feel inflamed by embarrassment at losing my shit at work.
“Just let me know.” He’s out of the door, only to pop his head back in. “By the way, Avery, I’ve been told about your ideas for an entire new line and look forward to seeing it.”
“Thank you, sir.” After he’s out of earshot, I realize that I’d just done them this weekend and had only told one person—my assistant.
And with his encouragement, I pour my heart into my new line, hopeful that this is a minor setback to my future with Whitney.
I’m resketching every new doll, making some slight adjustments when my phone rings, and I pounce on it, not looking at the caller ID.
“Ave, baby. Have you heard from your social worker?” Knox’s words are comfort because the boys are just as upset over the new development as I am.
“Oh, hey. I haven’t heard from her yet. I’m taking my frustration and pooling it into my designs.”
“Is there anything I can do for you, baby?”
My eyes are laser focused on the paleontologist doll, and his words don’t hit me.
“Ave, baby, is there anything I can do for you?” he asks again.
I stop with the concern lacing his voice. “I appreciate it, but I’m not going to let this dictate my life. That son of a bitch has done it with me for years. He was a sadistic bastard, and I should have pushed for custody then. But I didn’t. I had the means. Mom left me more than enough in resources. But I haven’t had to dig into...”
I swear I’m not going to let Dennis Masterson ruin my day at the remembrance of his influence on my life.
“Ave, are you crying?” Knox’s voice is lower than before with the possible knowledge that the man who made both my mom’s and my life a living hell for years has made me a blubbering mess.
“I’m just a little emotional. Putting it into words has really caused me to understand how wrong I was to let Whit go to him. And what’s funny is that he left, not looking back, until I called him the day after Mom