While I told my mother I loved her back as I hung up the phone, I was actually thinking ahead to my next move, because I still had a problem.
I had one solution left, one ace in the hole…but I fucking loathed using it.
Devon’s father, my ex-husband, Mike Simpson. Sarah was his stepdaughter, and even though they hadn’t spent time together in eons, he might be willing to watch her.
Especially if I managed to catch him in a good mood. Sure, he might hold it over my head later, figure out a way to manipulate the situation but, for now, I had to try.
My fingers started shaking as I scrolled for his number in my cell. It had been four years since our divorce but still merely thinking about him made me uneasy. Nauseous.
Anxious.
Getting his voicemail didn’t help with my overwrought nerves, and I thought some of texting instead, but just spitting it out might be easier. “Hey, Mike, this is Randi. I hate to bother you, but I wanted to ask if you could do me a favor. I have to take Sarah to a doctor’s appointment on Friday, and I had to switch my shift so I’ll be working that night. I was just wondering—since you’ll have Devon that night already—if you’d mind watching Sarah for a few hours, too, just until I get off work. Um, let me know. Call me when you can. Or text. I’ll be home most of the day.” I finished up by thanking him and saying goodbye, but suddenly I felt dirty and slimy, so I tried to shake those emotions while I finished up the cigarette.
Afterwards, I went back to the kitchen. I’d been on the phone so long I had to rewarm the soup before spooning it into the bowls and, when I touched the bread on the sandwiches, it was still fresh, but any longer and the bread would have started feeling dry. Then, sucking down a deep breath and trying to change my mindset so I’d sound like a kind, loving mother, I walked down the hall and through the open doorway into Sarah’s room. Sitting on the edge of her bed, I began stroking her hair. “Sarah, honey. Time to wake up. I made some lunch.”
As Sarah stirred, she partway opened her eyes, smiling at me ever so slightly as she sat up. I smiled back as I realized this was the first time in months I’d seen my daughter without a frown.
That was something, wasn’t it?
Chapter Four
When we got home from picking up Devon, Sarah sat on the living room couch and occupied herself with tracing a small hole in the knee of her jeans with her index finger. Devon sat at the kitchen table doing his homework, quite proud that he actually had some nowadays. Today, he had a sheet of subtraction problems to practice his new math skills.
As of this moment, his father Mike had not called back—which meant I needed to keep myself busy. After starting a load of laundry, I went to the kitchen and started dinner prep. Just as I started chopping an onion, my cell rang—and I saw it was Mike, so I quickly wiped my hands on my jeans and swiped the phone icon. Mike’s deep voice boomed through the phone, filling me with a mixture of relief and dread all at once.
“So you need me to watch Sarah ‘cause you have to work. You sure it’s not ‘cause you got a date?”
Already my blood pressure was rising from this brief interaction. “I’m sure—and I wouldn’t have even asked you, but my babysitter and my parents aren’t available. You were pretty much my last resort.”
“Thanks. Makes me feel good about myself.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. “I didn’t mean it that way, Mike—but I wanted you to know I had nowhere else to turn. There’s no one else I trust with Sarah.”
“I don’t know why you’re so overprotective of those kids, Randi. They’re going to grow up someday, whether you like it or not.”
He didn’t even know the half of it—but this was typical Mike. “Look, can you do it or not?”
“Yeah. I guess. But don’t complain if I take them out for Happy Meals.”
Asshole. I hated when he fed that shit as a constant diet for Devon, and when my son would return from visits with his dad, he wouldn’t want to eat my cooking for a couple of days. Mike knew how much it