Chapter Seventeen #2
We’d recently talked about the many ways her teenage students were like toddlers, including limited self-control, a penchant for games, and high reward motivation. The big die covered a lot of ground.
“You can get all this stuff pretty cheap at the dollar store or Target,” I said.
She smiled. “They’re going to love this.”
I pulled a gift card from my purse and set it next to the big die. “I’d like to sponsor your first set of bribes.”
Alicia took the card in her opposite hand and pressed both gifts to her chest. “You’re the best. Thank you.”
I blew her a kiss.
We finished our drinks quickly and placed our food orders. Then we requested another round. We ate onion rings and chicken fingers, french fries and sliders until time became meaningless, and our booth felt like a private island. A place where nothing outside the time machine could touch us.
“I haven’t been day drunk in years,” Alicia said, her words slightly slurred. “Except on vacation,” she allowed. “But that’s not the same, because the sun soaks up all the booze.”
“No sun in here,” I said, dragging crispy fries through a puddle of ketchup. Hopefully the carbs would absorb the alcohol.
“This is a good day,” she said. “You seem happy.”
“I am.” I searched myself for signs of a lie but found none. I wasn’t pretending anymore. I smiled.
“Have you heard from Robert?” she asked. “Any news on the divorce front?”
“Nope. We have mediation this week. That should be awesome,” I deadpanned.
“Ew.” Alicia wrinkled her nose. “It’s too bad you ever have to see him again. I wonder what he’s been up to while you’ve been creating a lovely little life for yourself?”
I had no idea, and I didn’t want to think about it.
“He’s pretending we’re broke, for starters,” I said.
“I’m glad he doesn’t know he’s the reason I’m working a million hours a week.
I don’t want him to have the satisfaction.
” I’d taken extra care to make the house and property shine from outside as soon as possible, just in case he drove by to judge me.
I’d added fresh paint to the door and shutters, power washed the cement steps and walkway, planted flowers, hung a new wreath, and added a welcome mat, rocking chair, and planter to the porch.
“I hope your attorney obliterates him at mediation.”
“No chance,” I said. “Attorneys will not be present. Apparently, the court thinks couples that come to their own decisions and agreements are less likely to go back to court later.” Unfortunately, I couldn’t imagine Robert agreeing to any split of our money and assets, which was likely the reason he’d claimed bankruptcy.
“How are you feeling about that?” Alicia asked.
“Not great,” I admitted. “But it puts me one step closer to divorce, and I love that for me.”
She tipped her head, eyes narrowing. “You’re being incredibly casual. I’m not sure if you’re putting on a show, repressing your feelings, or truly don’t care.”
“I care.” I sucked a dollop of ketchup off the side of my thumb. “But I mentally divorced Robert years ago. That’s the only way I could put up with him intentionally ignoring me and dismissing my needs.” Those things had become so normal that we’d barely interacted at all most days.
“Another reason I will always hate him,” she said. “Withholding attention and affection is cruel. Abusers do it to wear away your self-esteem.”
There was that word again, the one that crossed my mind more and more. Abuser.
“He didn’t care what I wanted,” I said. “Do you know that sometimes when I spoke, he circled a finger in the air to rush me along, so I’d get to my point?” I said.
Alicia stuck out her tongue in a mock gag.
“I was in charge of everything, but he was the boss. I mean it when I say the relationship has been over in my heart for a decade. The paperwork isn’t finished, but I’ve been single for at least ten years.”
She pointed at me, her head bobbing in agreement. Then she raised her hand and signaled to the bartender she wanted another round for us. “Speaking of bosses, how’s Lucas?”
My heart fluttered nonsensically at the mention of his name. “Good. Funny. Stupid attractive.”
She smiled. “What did he say when you told him you’re the Invisible Baker?”
I pulled my lips into a low, dramatic frown. “I did not do that.”
She gaped. “Sophie! Why?”
“I don’t know. I’m not ready to out myself. The Invisible Baker has been a lifeline for me. Confessing I’m behind the name feels like letting it go. It won’t be the same after that.”
“What are you going to do? Work two jobs until you crack?”
“Basically, yes.”
She laughed. “At least you have a plan, I guess. What else have I missed?”
I considered the question, then jolted at a brilliant thought I’d had earlier this week. “I have an idea about how to find Sébastien Allard.”
Alicia stilled. “Your bio dad?”
I nodded, enthusiasm growing. “I ordered one of those DNA tests that tell you all about your ancestry. When the results come back, they tell you if you match with anyone else who’s taken the test. Maybe he took one. Or one of his other children did, or his siblings or parents.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s brilliant.”
The waitress delivered our new drinks and collected the empty food baskets. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Just the bill,” I said, and the woman walked away.
“I want to be there when you take it,” Alicia said. “And when you get the results.” She pulled her phone from her bag and tapped the screen. “I’m texting the guys to pick us up. We’re hammered. They can take our cars home too.”
I erupted into laughter. I was day drunk in a dive bar with a nose piercing and my best friend. “This is so embarrassing! I don’t want them to see me drunk. I changed their diapers.”
“Me, too, so they better hurry. I have to pee, and I am not using this bathroom.”
I cackled.
My life really was kind of lovely.