Chapter 14
SARAH
“Mama, higher.”
I push Ollie with one hand and Frankie with the other, alternating back and forth. The cool, fall air swooshes against my face and smells of rotting leaves and dirt. I shiver, but the sun is warm against my black leggings.
“Dat t-t-tickles my tummy,” Ollie laughs and raises his arms like he’s flying.
Frankie smiles and squeals as I pretend like I’m going to get her as she swings toward me.
“Do you want to go down the slide a few more times before we go home for lunch?”
“I don’t want to g-go,” Ollie whines as I let his swing slow.
“Bud, Frankie needs a nap, and if we stay too much longer, my fingers might fall off.” I rub them together, missing my gloves, which are likely still on the counter.
“They won’t fall off.” Ollie scoots off the swing and drops to the ground.
“They might.” I grab him and find his ribs through his coat with my numb fingertips. “And then the tickle monster will have to tickle you with toes instead.”
He squeals, and I release him. He takes off, running toward the slide, and I pull Frankie from the swing.
“What about you, Love Bug? I bet you’re getting hungry. ”
She claps her hands, and I put her on my hip to follow Ollie.
He climbs the stairs and goes down the short slide.
I’ve missed this. The freedom to take the kids to the library and the park whenever I want.
It was only a couple of weeks without my car, but it felt like an eternity.
It’s funny how something as simple as transportation can make you realize how fortunate you are, even when it feels like so much is against you.
I set Frankie on the steps and let her crawl up. Ollie zooms past and up the swirly ladder. “One more time, and then we have to go.”
Frankie makes it to the top and crawls toward the bridge. I scoop her up as Ollie zips down the slide.
“All right, you two. Let’s go.”
“Aw.” Ollie stomps his foot. “Can we come back t-t-tomorrow?”
“We’ll see, ok? Maybe we can rake the leaves while Frankie naps.”
“Can I jump in them?” He takes my hand as we walk to the car.
“I don’t know. There are so many; I might lose you in the pile.”
He grins up at me. “Grover will f-find me.”
At home, I throw chicken nuggets in the oven while Ollie and Frankie sing the alphabet along with the Muppets.
My phone buzzes on the counter, and I swipe to answer. “You’re up already?”
Roxie groans. “Yeesss. My dad is stopping by to discuss an opportunity.”
“Really?” I fill two sippy cups with water. “Sounds intriguing.”
She moans. “Is there the stench of desperation in the air? It smells like another lame-ass attempt to pull me into the fold where I can be controlled and manipulated.”
Roxie’s family comes from a long line of wealth and superiority. They are the kind of people who will never understand that life can’t always be wrapped up in neat, pretty bows. They live by formality and structure, expecting everyone to do the same and bend to their whims.
Roxie doesn’t play by their rules and is determined to break the mold in every way possible. She made that loud and clear, starting with giving up a full ride to a prestigious college to manage the local bar .
“Do you have any idea what it’s about?” I ask.
“No, but I’m sure it’ll make me want to call the newspaper before running through the streets naked as payback.” She yawns. “Tell me something good so I can focus on that while he’s piling on the thick layers of family duty and disappointment.”
“I got my car back,” I say, living on that high for as long as possible.
“You’re a free woman again! How does it feel to be released from buses and other people’s cars?”
“A-mazing!!” I sing. “Except for the whole, I have to pay for the repairs thing.”
“Yeah. That part really sucks, but let’s not let it rain on our parade.”
“Oh, for real. After this past week, I almost kissed my car when I saw it.”
I hear her microwave beep. “What happened?”
“I told you about grocery shopping with Slade.” My stomach stirs, reliving it.
“Sarah, people understand money can be tight, especially when you’re working and attending school while being the best mom ever. It’s a lot. You should be so damn proud of yourself.”
I open the oven door to peek at the nuggets, thinking about reminding her that she’s never known what it’s like to hide your lunch at school because there’s hardly anything in it, or had to choose between seeing the dentist and buying groceries.
Some things others will never understand, and I’m glad for that.
“I had to ride with my boss to the courthouse.”
“You got to go to court?” she asks with her mouth full. “How was it?”
I peek around the doorway at the kids. Ollie lies on his stomach, surrounded by airplanes, and Frankie is standing at the couch, bobbing up and down to the music. I smile.
“It was. . .ok.”
“That doesn’t sound very enthusiastic. ”
“I helped gather information on our client’s assets, and I imagine she’ll be awarded half of everything, including her ex’s business investments and equity.”
“Look at you already kicking ass and taking names.”
“But then I found out she cheated with his best friend.”
“It’s like daytime drama. Tell me more.”
“That’s it really. It was eye-opening. Helped me see that maybe this lawyer stuff isn’t always about justice or equality, but more. . .who’s better prepared and makes a stronger argument.”
I’m still sorting through that revelation and what it means.
“Then Griffin dropped me off to get my car, and it was the strangest thing. I think he and Slade have some kind of issue with each other.”
“Sounds like two egos having trouble fitting into the same room. We should have thrown my dad in there to see who’d suffocate first.”
The oven timer goes off, and I hit the button, grabbing a mitt. “I don’t know. Slade is really blunt and. . .guarded, but not arrogant.”
“Maybe your boss screwed him over or something.”
I pull the nuggets out. “Maybe. All I know is, I’m happy to come and go of my own free will now.”
“Have you heard from Miles?” Her water runs and shuts off.
It’s the dreaded question.
“He’s moving to New York and told me it’s up to me how this goes. ”
“That narcissistic dick.” The accuracy of her words makes me smile. “What do you think that means?”
I put three nuggets on Ollie’s plate and two on Frankie’s, cutting hers into little pieces.
“It means what it always means with him. It’s a tactic to get me to reconsider things .
” I set the plates on the table. “He’ll continue to withhold child support and issue some crazy demand I’ll have to meet in order for him to actually pay it.
” I fill my cheeks with air and blow it out.
“He said he’s visiting in a few weeks. I guess I’ll find out then. ”
“Ugh. Can I be there? I’ll punch him in the throat and then take a sickle to his lying, cheating balls. I’d like to see him go on air after that.”
“At this point, I don’t want anything from him. We’re getting by, but I have to know what this move means for Ollie and Frankie. I owe it to them.”
“Maybe his moving is for the best.” I hear the tentativeness in her statement and can’t say that I haven’t thought the same thing.
“Yeah.”
“Sarah, this might be your chance to really move on. You need to be free from him and his manipulation. All he does is use Ollie and Frankie as pawns in his game. You’re a really good mom. You’ll do whatever is best.”
My throat tingles a little. “Thanks, Rox.”
The doorbell rings. “I gotta go. I’ll be down for Thanksgiving but can only stay the night. Squeeze those kiddos for me.”
We hang up, and I call Ollie for lunch. Grover is the first in the kitchen, ready to mop up whatever hits the floor. Frankie drops to her knees, her arms and legs moving as fast as they can. I scoop her up and kiss her cheek, knowing I’d do absolutely anything for them.
“Lunch and then naptime, Love Bug.” I strap her into her booster seat.
“Can we go outside?” Ollie asks, biting a nugget in half and dunking it in ketchup.
Grover’s ears perk at the O-word.
“After I get Frankie down, ok?” I watch her squish the banana between her fingers as she chews a small piece of chicken.
Ollie dances, sitting on his knees, and a giant glob of ketchup lands on his chest. “Ah, nuts.”
I swipe the glob with a washcloth and toss it in the sink. “Here. I have to start the laundry.” I hold one sleeve, and he pulls his arm out, tugging it over his head as he shoves an overflowing spoon of applesauce in his mouth.
I get the basketful of dirty clothes from my room and place it on my hip to carry it to the basement.
When I open the door, I immediately smell—
“Shit!”
“Mama, you can’t say dat!” Ollie hollers.
I switch the light on and stare at the glistening water spread over the concrete floor below, resting against the bottom step. Oh. My . . .
I drop the basket and descend the stairs, stopping on the second-to-last step. I glance around the unfinished space. Thankfully, I cleaned out all of the junk when I moved in. A few small boxes float on the six inches of water, but the bottom of the washer and dryer are submerged.
No, no, no no, no!
I run up the stairs, hoping Google can tell me what in the hell I’m supposed to do.
I find numbers for local plumbers and dial the first one.
We have a brief conversation involving lots of questions and a warning not to step into the water.
It ends with astronomical emergency rates and an iffy promise to call me when he’s finished with his current job.
I want to scream.
“Mama, I’m done.”
I turn, and Ollie sits shirtless with ketchup smeared over the corners of his mouth.
I stare at him. What do I do?
“Go get a shirt on, buddy.” I kick the basket of clothes out of the way and close the basement door to be sure Grover doesn’t go down.
“Hurry, Ollie.” I push him toward his room.
Frankie drinks the last of her applesauce, and I grab a washcloth to wipe up the mess.
“Mama, can we go outside now?” Ollie’s shirt is on backward, but it’ll do.
“Get your shoes and coat on.” I pull Frankie from her booster, leaving the food on the table.
I slip on my shoes, realizing I have no socks, but whatever.
I tug Frankie’s coat on, and Ollie pops up off the floor with his shoes actually on the right foot.
“Come on.” I fling the door open, really needing him to be home.