Chapter Twenty-Two
Adam
Leslie
Are you busy?
I stare at the text, knowing what’s coming and not liking it. This is her being nice, and when she’s nice, it’s because she needs something from me.
Today is not the day I want to deal with her giving me bad news. Or if she needs something, it won’t be something I want to give.
This day, every year, is rough for me. It shouldn’t be, but it is, and she should know that. We were together long enough. Maybe I should be over it by now, but I’m not. That’s my own fault. Maybe I should stop suppressing my feelings and deal with it, but that hurts too much, so maybe next year.
But also, is there a time limit on how long to grieve your dead parents? There shouldn’t be. How can you put a time frame on the sadness you feel over the loss of a loved one, never mind two?
I could ignore her text and pick up the kids like we scheduled, though I have a feeling that’ll end up pissing me off more.
I have a feeling she’s going to give me another excuse as to why I can’t get the kids tonight, so showing up would be useless.
There are only so many days in a week, and I’m only allowed to have them for two and a half.
I cherish that half, and lately she’s been taking it from me as if it’s nothing.
The only good thing—and I say that lightly because not getting my kids isn’t a good thing—is that when she takes the kids on my days, I have something to do. Which is better than being miserable and alone in my apartment—what I did before Emmet.
I type out a response on my phone and send it.
No.
My phone rings a moment later.
I take a deep breath before answering.
“Hello?”
“Hey, how are you?”
“Fine,” I answer, trying to keep calm. “You?”
“I’m fine. So, I was thinking about what you said.”
“About…”
“Getting the kids more often.”
“Oh?”
“How about you start getting them on Thursdays now?”
I’m so shocked I can’t talk for a moment.
I finally snap out of it and say, “And keep them until Monday morning.”
“Yes. This way, if we notice it throws Judy off her schedule, it’ll be the weekend and we won’t have to worry about it too much.”
I have no idea why me picking her up and dropping her off at school would throw her off schedule, since it’s not changing anything but where she sleeps, but whatever.
“That would be great, Leslie. Thank you,” I say, meaning it with everything in me. I didn’t think this would be so easy. I thought I’d have to fight her more.
“Great. I’ll see you soon then.”
The call ends, and I stare at my phone, unable to believe what just happened. I’m so happy that I type out a text to Emmet because I need to share this good news.
Leslie agreed to let me have the kids more!!!!
His response comes in almost immediately.
Emmet
That’s awesome! I’m so happy for you, Adam.
I was worried she’d make a big thing out of it, but she didn’t.
Emmet
That’s great.
You should come over.
I’m not sure I should have invited him over again.
He must be sick of me by now. We spent all of Monday together, and we’ve seen each other each day this week because I’ve gone by the bar.
With me not working, it’s probably not a good idea to spend so much money on drinking, but now that I know my schedule with the kids, I can focus on getting a job. And I’ll be selling my house.
Emmet
I’m actually stuck at the bar. Pete needed the night off.
You could come by after.
Why did I say that? What am I even trying to say? It’ll be late. I’m an idiot. I shove my phone into my pocket and grab my keys. I put the radio on loud to drown out the thoughts of how much of a fool I am for inviting him over here at three am—again.
My phone is staring at me from the passenger seat when I pull into Leslie’s driveway, and I check it before getting out to get the kids.
Emmet
You’ll be sleeping.
I blow out a sigh of relief, but then a wave of disappointment hits me.
I was hoping he’d say yes. Even if I am sleeping, I’ll wake up, but I realize how that sounds.
It sounds like I want more, but we’re just friends.
That isn’t what normal friends do, even if it’s something Emmet and I did many times when we were younger.
Look where that led us. Look what happened there.
Yet, sometimes I think I remember it wrong. I wonder if I forced myself to change the truth so I wouldn’t feel like such an asshole for what I did. I guess I just wonder if my memories of him and I are accurate.
Sometimes, I don’t know why I did what I did at all. But there’s nothing I can do about it now. And he’s back. We’re friends. He accepts my life the way it is and he still wants to be in it. So, that’s something.
You’re probably right.
Emmet
I’m always right.
Now that’s a stretch.
Emmet
*middle finger emoji*
*laughing emoji*
I put my phone in my pocket as I head up the front steps. I ring the bell and a second later, the door is open and the kids are diving for me.
“Daddy!” they shout at the same time. Ian wraps around my leg while Judy goes for my waist.
“Hey, kiddos,” I say, hugging them as best I can in this awkward position.
When I look up, Leslie is in the doorway, smiling.
“Thanks,” I say again.
“Have a good weekend,” she says to me. “Come on, give me a hug goodbye,” she says to the kids. They let go of me and give her a hug, before hurrying down the steps to my car. Judy gets herself in while I get Ian in and buckle him up.
“Guess what we’re doing,” I say, glancing at them both in the rear view mirror.
“Going to your house?” Judy asks.
“Daddy’s house!” Ian shouts, giggling.
“Actually, we’re going to get ice cream.”
“Ice cream!” they shout together.
The entire drive there, they’re singing about ice cream and all the ways to eat it and all the toppings you can put on it.
If they got an actual melody going, I think it could be a hit.
It’s adorable, but the entire time, all I think about is Emmet and how much fun it would be if he were able to join us.