Chapter 13
THE DOMINOES HAVE BEEN TIPPED
DELILAH
“Will you look at what we have here? I gave you the day off and you decided to spend the money I pay you at this dump? Artie, we might need to have a talk about your priorities.”
My almost-ex-husband saunters up, dressed like a total douchebag in khaki shorts and a sky-blue polo with matching blue boat shoes.
I know from experience that those shoes will leave his crusty feet covered in blisters that he’ll pop on the bathroom floor and not clean up later.
Thank god that’s not my fucking problem to deal with anymore.
I wonder if the Joy Turner-looking blonde on his arm has already been tasked with cleaning up after Earl around his own house.
Seems he moved on from Mindy pretty quickly, but hey, who am I to judge?
“We both know you don’t pay me nearly enough to have any kind of opinions on my personal life, Earl. And besides, once the check clears, what I do with my own money is none of your damn business.”
“Nice hat,” Ivy adds, motioning to the fugly Ferrari-branded baseball cap on Earl’s head, covering up what I’m hoping is a patchwork of bald spots and pink straw sprouting from his scalp.
“Oh my god, I love strawberry jam! Look, baby, free samples!” Blondie exclaims, jumping up and down while Earl sneers at Artie.
“Would you like one?” I ask, spooning a bit of jam onto a small wooden sample spoon.
Sometimes I offer my goods on tiny pieces of bread or even pound cake, but I find that I sell more if I let my jam speak for itself.
Blondie reaches for the spoon, but Earl snatches it and throws it on the ground, leaving his companion pouting.
“You really shouldn’t litter,” I grumble quietly, knowing no one is paying attention to me, anyway.
“We don’t need to give these nobodies our time or attention, Sugar Pie.”
‘Sugar Pie’ has me scrunching up my nose. There go any good thought I ever had about sweet treats or cute terms of endearment.
“What are you even doing here, Earl? Don’t you have anywhere else you could be on a Saturday morning?” Ivy seethes next to me.
“The Earl—” Ivy audibly gags at his referring to himself both by his self-proclaimed title and in the third person, but he soldiers on — “is a pillar of this community, Ivy Crowe. Where else should I be rather than giving my support to the more reputable local businesses?”
“Your daughter is playing a flag football game at the high school right now.”
“You have a daughter?” Blondie looks up at Earl, and I can sense the confusion and a hint of sadness in her tone as well as the borderline disgust in her eyes.
I don’t know how long they’ve been together, but at least she has the decency to be upset that her beau hid the existence of his kids from her. Still, I focus on Earl.
“You could be there, cheering her on. But considering you’ve never once made it to one of her games in her entire life, I don’t know why I’d expect you to start now.”
Earl’s face morphs into an ugly, red ball of anger, but I remain steadfast. I won’t cower under his faux-macho fear-mongering anymore.
“I haven’t been lucky enough to have the time to attend my daughter’s activities because someone has to work to pay for them.
Not all of us can sit at home all day doing nothing and playing with fruit.
How much of your silly little jam have you sold today, Delilah?
Not enough to make up for missing Sadie’s flag football game either, I suppose? ”
Oh no, he fucking didn’t. God, I wish my feet weren’t too swollen for my spiky stilettos right now. If I were wearing those instead of the pregnancy sneakers that make it so I don’t have to bend over to get on my feet, I’d kick Earl’s stupid dick right off his body.
This son of a bitch thinks he can question my devotion to our child? He’s got another thing coming.
“No. It’s never worth missing out on time with Sadie, but I do it because I have to.
I’ve made enough to pay the flag football team fees, as well as Sadie’s soccer camp fees, and the cost of her costume for the Junior Thespian Club’s production of A Midsommar Night’s Dream.
Not to mention all the things she needs for the Campfire Girl’s camping trip to Cumberland Mountain at the end of summer.
And when I’ve finished up here, I get to go pick up Sadie from my parent’s house and spend the night with her.
I’ll get to hear all about the football game and watch the videos that Mom is taking on her phone.
I’ll play video games with Sadie, and she’ll read to me from her chapter book before she goes to bed.
I get all that time with her because I’m her mother and I make the time.
And even though I send you every video of your kid playing sports or acting in the school play or dancing at her hip-hop recitals, you don’t bother to watch them.
You never show up, you never ask about her, you never fucking cared! ”
A crowd has started to form around my little jam stand to watch the scene unfold, but I’m on a roll. There’s no stopping me now.
“Sadie and I have been out of your house for months, Earl. How many times have you called to say hello to her? How many times have you asked me about her, or where she’s living, or what she wants for her next birthday?
None. And you know what, Earl? Sadie hasn’t asked about you either.
She doesn’t notice when you don’t show up because she never expected you to in the first place.
That is the relationship you built with your daughter.
One where you’re complete strangers and she is the one who is going to suffer for it.
But don’t worry, Earl. Ivy and I will be here to support Sadie.
She might not know the love of a father, but she still has two parents who will walk through fire for her.
You know who has been there at every game and every recital and every practice, sitting next to me and showing up for our kid?
Ivy. You know who Sadie asks for when she has a cold and wants to cuddle?
Ivy. And who is going to be in the delivery room with me to welcome Little Bean into the world when they’re born?
Ivy. Not you. Ivy is more of a parent to Sadie and Little Bean than you’ll ever be.
So yeah, I might be missing one game today so that I can make some money to support our kids, but you’re going to miss their entire fucking lives.
And you have no one to thank for that but yourself. ”
My skin is on fire, and my breathing is labored.
Even though I’m pissed as hell and my lungs are burning like I just finished running a marathon, I’ve never felt better.
I almost expect a slow clap to erupt from our audience, but this is real life and the good people of the Fox Hole Farmer’s Market have the decency to at least pretend they aren’t listening intently as I give my ex-husband the verbal beatdown of a lifetime.
I’ve never spoken to Earl this way, except maybe that day at the shop when I told him I was pregnant. I’ve always just quietly taken his shit and gone on with my life because it was easier that way. But with every passing moment, I just keep getting angrier and angrier.
Maybe he was trying to bait me by questioning my devotion to our child, and maybe I fell for it, but fuck.
It feels so goddamn good to lay into him for what a shit fucking parent he has been all these years, and especially to do so in front of the crowd of people straining their ears to listen to my outburst. Earl treating me like shit might have been the worst-kept secret in Fox Hole for the last decade, but I have always made excuses for his absence at Sadie’s events. Not for his sake, but for hers.
The last thing Sadie ever needed to hear was me berating her father around town for being a deadbeat.
But now it’s all out on the table, and he can try to put on his stupid fucking mask and parade his girlfriends around town like he’s the…
Well, like he’s The Earl of Auto or something, but this can of worms can’t be unopened.
Earl’s pinched face is fire engine red, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he stares back at me, wordless. Good. I hope he has nothing to say. There is no defending himself, and I wouldn’t hear it even if he tried.
Blondie at his side seems to shift away from Earl, putting space between their bodies as she gives me an uncomfortable look of something that resembles sympathy. I hope she gets herself away from Earl soon and finds someone who actually gives a damn about anything besides himself.
“Delilah. That is enough. If you want to talk about our family, we can do it in private.”
“Our family, Earl, not yours,” Ivy says, looping her arm around my waist and pulling me close. The scent of her body spray fills my nostrils and makes my knees wobble. Her possessive hold on me is so infuriatingly sexy, I almost forget that I’m supposed to be angry right now.
“Your family? Are you the one getting Delilah pregnant? I thought you just liked to dress like a man. But I guess I wouldn’t be surprised if you were packing a dick and balls in those ugly shorts.”
“Want me to whip it out, Earl? I know for a fact that what I’ve got in my pants is a thousand times better than the dick you’ve been dipping into half the female population of Eastern Tennessee.
Yeah, you’re such a big man leaving sperm everywhere you go, but have you ever brought a woman to orgasm with your little pecker? ”
“Oh, fuck off, Ivy. This has nothing to do with you. Just because you’ve wanted to fuck my wife since you were teenagers but never got the chance and now you’re a lonely, pissed-off—”