pissed me off because I’d asked him to limit those shitty foods and he refused. But, I supposed, if that was the worst he did as a dad, he was all right. Hands down, he was a much better father than husband. “Fine.”
“Randi, you know I don’t cook. I said I’d do it, okay? Don’t bust my balls about it.”
“All right.” As an afterthought, I added, “Thanks. See you Friday.”
“I’ll be there around six.”
“Could you be here earlier? I have to be at work by four.”
“I can’t.”
Damn it. I was tired of trying to figure out new detours—but I managed one more. “I guess I could take the kids to work with me for an hour or so. Can you pick them up there?” As he started to hem and haw, I asked, “Or what if I brought Devon to you? Could I bring him earlier?”
Mike was grunting in protest when Devon looked up from the table, bright-eyed. “Is that my dad? Can I talk to him?”
“Devon wants to talk to you for a minute.”
After sounding gruff and grouchy with me, his voice lightened. “Put my little buddy on.”
Eagerly, Devon took the phone and all but yelled into it. “Hey, dad!” While Devon chatted, I peeked in the living room at Sarah—who actually reached over to pick up the remote off the coffee table to turn the TV on.
That was something, at least.
So I got back to working on dinner until Devon said, “Okay, dad. I can’t wait. Mom, dad wants to talk to you again.”
As I brought the phone to my ear, I kept my voice as calm as possible. “Yes?”
When Mike spoke this time, he almost sounded pleasant. “Go ahead and bring the kids by before four. I’ll be home.”
“Are you sure?”
“I said it, didn’t I?”
“Thanks. See you Friday.” I hung up before he could say anything else.
Devon sat at the table, his eyes still glowing from the conversation with his dad. “Mom, I have to read now. Are you ready to time me?”
“Sure.” I glanced at the clock to note the time and resumed chopping the onion as Devon started reading aloud from the little book he had at the table. My little guy was a good reader, so I usually didn’t have to pay close attention, which was probably a good thing this evening. And I was thrilled he enjoyed reading, because although I was glad he loved his dad, I didn’t want him growing up to be like him.
While Devon read aloud, my mind wandered back over that failed relationship. At first, I’d been attracted to Mike’s macho alpha-male attitude, but that was the only side there was to the guy—and, over time, he grew abusive to boot. I didn’t want to become the woman who died at the hands of the jealous man she loved. After several years apart, I now had a hard time figuring out what I’d ever seen in the guy.
Lost in thought, I accidentally tuned my son completely out until I heard his voice change pitch. “Mom? Mom!”
As if to wake myself up, I shook my head, realizing the onion I’d meant to chop was instead minced. “What, honey?”
“Has it been ten minutes yet?”
Oh, shit. More than. “Yes. You’re done, sweetheart.”
“Can I play in my room now?”
“Of course.”
I let out a long breath, urging myself to get my head in the game as I got out a skillet with the intent of trying to salvage dinner before I chopped it to death.
* * *
My little family sat around the table, all three of us silent. Devon chewed noiselessly, savoring each bite, because he loved eating. I barely ate but I wasn’t talking, deep in thought. Sarah sat quietly as she had of late, barely picking at her food with her fork.
But, after a while, the silence made me nervous, especially because my mind was going nuts. Fortunately, I knew a cure. “Tell me what happened at school today, Devon.”
“We’re studying bugs.”
Still a girl inside, I fought against grimacing. “What kind of bugs?”
“All kinds. And our teacher lets kids bring them to school. So we have some praying mantises there. We named them Willie and Martha.”
“Are you sure they’re female and male?”
“No. But we’ll find out soon.”
“Why is that?”
“Mom!” Devon grinned at me. “You know why.”
“No, I don’t. Tell me why.”
He giggled. “Because if they make babies, the mommy will eat the daddy’s head after.”
His revelation made me nearly choke on a mouthful of peas. “They teach you that?”
“Yeah, mom. Remember?