Single Mom’s Guide to Love (Guide to Love #2)

18. Maeve

18

maeve

Bathrooms scrubbed? Check.

Sheets washed and bed remade? Check.

Baseboards wiped down: Check.

Garage swept and organized: Also check.

There’s not another space in my house I could possibly clean. It’s sparkling, and you can eat off the damn floors.

But don’t, because you’ll get crumbs everywhere and I just mopped.

I had heard about stress cleaning, but I didn’t think it was a thing. Then again, I’d never been stressed so much that I was pushed to the brink of deep-cleaning my house.

I’d like to blame this on my ex, his new wife, and the man I’m working for. They all have a role in CleanFest.

Usually when I get nervous, or worried, or want to focus on something else, I work. The only problem is that work for me right now is Logan, and after our Thanksgiving together, I thought it was best if we put some space between us.

So that meant I was stuck in my house all weekend. I booked a few jobs for after I’m done with Logan’s house, one in a suburb of Florida and one in Raleigh. I double-checked that everything for Logan’s that needed to be ordered was in fact placed and en route. I organized my inbox, updated my website, and went through a ton of old photos that were just taking space on my computer.

All of that took six hours.

Hence began the deep clean of my house. And it worked as well as it could've. I’ve been away from Jayce for extended periods of time, and farther distances. But in those cases, I knew who he was with and the caretaking was under my control. Now my son is with his father, whom I do trust, and his new stepmother, who I don’t trust to tie his shoe.

She’s the reason my baseboards are spotless.

I check the clock again to see that it’s 7:45p.m. Josh promised me they’d be home at eight so Jayce wasn’t getting to bed too late, since it is a school night. And because of the long weekend, he was going to forfeit his Monday, which was a nice move on his part.

As I’m looking for one more thing to organize or tidy up to get through the next fifteen minutes, my angel of a sister calls me.

A phone call with Quinn is the perfect distraction.

“You make it home?” I ask when I pick up, knowing Quinn’s flight back to Arizona should’ve landed about an hour ago.

“Just sat down,” she said. “They back yet?”

I check the driveway again to see if they magically pulled in over the last fifteen seconds. “No. Any minute now.”

After sliding in the tidbit of information on Thanksgiving night that Josh and Vivian got married, I gave my family the debrief at our Thanksgiving dinner, away from Jayce of course. Jaws were on the floor. Foul language was used. Theories were drawn up as to why this marriage was suddenly happening. Those ranged from they actually loved each other to one of them needed to get married in order to accept an inheritance.

And I swear, if Josh has a secret inheritance I didn’t know about, and I paid him alimony for the first three years of our divorce, we’re going to have words. And a court date.

“I still don’t get it,” Quinn says. “From the little you’ve told me about Vivian, and the Instagram stalking that Stella did, she doesn’t seem like the kind of woman who wants to elope because she just loves Josh so much. This woman screams "I want a big, showy wedding!”

“I was shocked too,” I say. “But hey, maybe they’re just two soulmates and couldn’t bear to spend another day without being legally bonded together for life?”

It only takes a second for the two of us to bust up in a fit of laughter.

“Oh, that was good,” Quinn says. “Your humor doesn’t get enough credit in the family.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should. Especially since I’ve always been the funny sister.”

I know why she says that, and I know why she thinks it, but I wish Quinn knew that she was so much more than just the funny Banks sibling. Then again, she’s the true middle child of the five of us, so using humor, and sometimes pushing that humor over the line, is on brand.

“So when do we get to see you again?” I ask.

Since Quinn moved to Arizona after college, she’s made it a habit to only come back a few times a year. Mostly for holidays. A few unexpected trips. And we understand. It’s a long flight, it’s not cheap, and she has a life out there that she’s made for herself. And when it comes to the holidays, if she’s home for Thanksgiving, then she’s not making it in for Christmas, or vice versa. Which means it could be another year until I see my sister.

“Little over three weeks, silly,” she says. “I’ll be home for Christmas.”

“Really? You’re coming home again?”

“Yeah? Why not?”

“Because you never have.”

“Oh,” she says, and am I catching Quinn Banks actually searching for an answer? This is new territory. “I just thought it would be nice. You know, Lainey’s first Christmas and all.”

Really? Using Simon’s six-month-old as an excuse? She’s lucky we aren’t FaceTiming so she can’t see the look I’m shooting her right now that screams “I don’t believe a fucking thing you’re saying.”

“Really, Quinn? That’s what you’re going with? Be real.”

“I am,” she says. “And aren’t you the one always begging me to move back? More visits should please you.”

She’s right about that. I miss my sister like crazy. But that’s not the point here. “I am happy. It’s just suspicious.”

At that moment, I see headlights turning into the driveway. And I let out a deep breath of relief.

“They’re home. We’re pausing this conversation for a future time.”

“Oh no. I’m so sad,” she deadpans. “But please call me back later if there’s new information about the marriage. I’m now leaning toward her being pregnant.”

Oh God, I never even thought of that. “Quinn! Why would you say that?”

“Shit. Sorry. Call me back!”

My sister hangs up the phone as now my brain rushes into a whole different direction.

Jayce with a half sibling? I never even considered that.

But my brain can’t fixate on that for too long as I hear the rattle of the front door handle being jiggled open by Jayce.

“Mommy!” he yells as he drops his backpack at the doorway and sprints to me. He doesn’t even take his boots off and is tracking water all through my clean house, but I don’t care. My boy is home.

“Hey, buddy,” I say, wrapping him in maybe the biggest hug I’ve ever given him. “Did you have fun?”

“I did!”

Jayce begins a rapid-fire rundown of all the rides he rode, and the shows they saw. He’s about to start going into detail of every meal he ate when I see Josh staring at us from just inside the doorway.

Josh and I have only ever had two good communication styles in our life—in the bedroom, and silently with our eyes. Which is probably another reason why our marriage didn’t work.

The silent conversation is going something like this:

Me: “Why are you standing there?”

Him with a stare and a head nod: “We need to talk.”

Him shifting his eyes to Jayce then a head nod toward his room: “Alone.”

And frankly, Josh and I talking alone isn’t the worst idea right now. Vivian isn’t here, and I don’t hear his car running, so I’m guessing he didn’t leave her in there.

If Quinn were in the room, she’d be making a crack about him leaving the window open for her. But as the oldest sister, I’ll take the high road and just think it to myself.

“Jayce, I want to hear all about the trip. But we also have school tomorrow. So how about you go upstairs, put all your dirty clothes in the hamper, get in your pajamas, then come back and tell me everything else.”

His excitement still at a high, he doesn’t say anything as he sprints out of the living room. God, I love having an agreeable, and sometimes oblivious, son.

“Did the trip go well?”

I don’t invite him to, but Josh takes it upon himself to sit on the chair across from me on the couch. “Really well. Thanks for letting us do this.”

I don’t know if letting is the right word. More like court ordered, but that’s neither here nor there.

“I’m glad you guys had fun. But I don’t think you’re sitting down here so you can recap your trip to the Smoky Mountains.”

He nods and takes a second to look down at his clasped hands, elbows resting on his legs. His position is giving me pause. The last time he looked like this is when we sat down and decided it was best that we got a divorce.

“I know you think the marriage to Vivian was quick, but I want you to know it wasn’t,” he begins. “I’ve wanted to ask her for months. We just sped up some parts.”

I’m glad he’s addressing the elephant in the room. “I’ll admit, I do think it was fast. But as long as you're happy, then I’m happy for you.”

I don’t know what else to say. Does he want my approval or something?

“And she really loves Jayce,” he adds. “You should’ve seen them together this weekend. She wanted to go on every ride with him and take pictures of everything.”

“Great,” I grit out. “Why are you telling me this?”

He lets out a sigh, but it’s the seriousness in his gaze right now that’s making my stomach flip in the worst kind of way. “Vivian and I want primary custody.”

At first I’m sure I’m not hearing him right. I couldn’t have. He didn’t say that. This is a man who just opened a savings account two years ago. I’ve had to beg him to take an extra day here and there to help me out.

I’m waiting for him to start laughing. To tell me that he’s playing an April Fool’s Day joke on me in November. To say that Punk’d is coming back, and I’m the first victim.

Except he doesn’t. His face is as serious as I’ve ever seen it.

“What do you mean you want primary custody?”

“I know it seems out of the blue, but it’s not.”

“The fuck it isn’t!” I scream and stand up, but quickly remember that Jayce is upstairs and I need to keep my voice down. “Where is this coming from Josh? Never once have you asked for more time, let alone a change in the custody arrangement.”

“Things change,” he says. “I want Jayce in my life.”

“He is!” I yell. I know I need to keep my voice down but it’s pretty hard right now. “And why the fuck are we just skipping past the fifty-fifty compromise of co-parenting and going straight to you having him a majority of the time?”

None of this makes sense. And I want answers, but I can feel myself spiraling.

“Let’s think about it, Maeve,” he begins. “You’ve been traveling a lot with work lately. How long was that last trip? Ten, eleven days?”

“Yes. Eleven with a weather delay. And I asked you to keep him for five. You couldn’t even do that.”

“Because it was last minute,” he defends. “If Jayce is with us primarily, we’d get into a routine. And think about it, Maeve. Then you can travel as much as you need for work. This is really to help you.”

It takes every ounce of strength in me not to throat punch him. I won’t because I’m an adult, my son is upstairs, and I don’t want to get vomit on my freshly cleaned carpet.

But holy fuck do I want to.

“Josh, this doesn’t make sense,” I try to say rationally. “You spent one weekend together as a happy little family and suddenly you’ve got the itch to do this all the time?”

“Give me more credit than that, Maeve. Vivian and I have been discuss?—”

And there it is. The reason my Spidey senses have been going off. “Oh! I see. This is Vivian’s idea.”

“No. It’s not,” he says, though maybe a little too defensively. “Yes, she has mentioned that she thinks we should have Jayce more. But I make my own decisions.”

I can’t keep in my laughter. “ Sure you do. I’m sure getting married on a whim was your idea too. How about her new car? Just think of that out of the blue?”

My sarcasm isn’t appreciated, based on his glare. Good thing I’m impervious to the moods of men. “Listen, Maeve. I don’t want this to get ugly.”

“Ha! Fucking rich coming from the man who’s trying to take my son out of the life he’s used to.”

“But that’s where you’re wrong. Yes, he’s used to being with you and just visiting with me. But is it good for him? What do you think it’s like for him when you travel and he has to bounce around houses? Or has to go to work with you because he’s off school or sick and you refuse to ask me for help?”

He is really saying all of this with the confidence only a mediocre man can possess, and I am not having it. “I’ve asked. More than a few times. You’ve never been able to. And also never volunteered. Your rewriting of history is impressive right now but since I’m not senile, please don’t gaslight me.”

Apparently I’m right, because he doesn’t try to defend those things. Instead he just skips to his finale. “Vivian and I are married now. Jayce should grow up primarily with parents who can back each other up when something happens to the other. A true family.”

I’m seeing red right now. How dare he think Jayce is suffering because I’m not married!

And where is this coming from? It has to be from her. Josh has never even hinted at anything like this. It’s blindsiding, in so many ways.

“He does have a family. He has a father and a mother who love him, and aunts and uncles and grandparents. Maybe it’s not a traditional one, but that boy has never wanted for love or support.” I stand up, because my mind is racing and my need to do something is overpowering.

“For years, our system has worked. You’ve never asked for anything more. I never knew you even wanted more. Now you’re just going to pop up to my house and say that you want to take my child from his home and his mother because you and the trophy want to play house? Got a little taste of it and now you think you’re Dad of the Year? Tell me, Josh. Because none of this makes any goddamn sense.”

He doesn’t answer any of my questions. He just stands up and looks me square in the eye. “This was just a courtesy conversation, Maeve. But we’re doing this. I’m filing papers with the court next week. Be ready.”

With that he exits my house, leaving me standing there terrified and panicked.

And feeling more out of control than I’ve ever been in my life.

I don’t know how long I’m standing there, but the only thing that breaks me from my mental spiral is Jayce sprinting back in the living room, an armful of souvenirs in hand, talking a mile a minute about his trip.

I try to listen. I really do. But I don’t hear one thing he says. All I can think about is that my entire life has just been turned upside down. This could be gone. All of it. All it would take is one judge to buy Josh’s stories, and Jayce could be nothing more than a visitor in my home.

And I can’t let that happen. No. I have to do whatever it takes to make sure my son stays with me.

Except I have no clue how to fix this.