Chapter 19
Marissa
There are so many better ways to spend a Friday morning than thinking about the trauma your separation might be causing in your child’s brain. ’Cause that’s all I’m getting from these parenting classes.
Court-mandated or not, they’re shit if your coparent is shit. As simple as that.
At least I don’t have to deal with Daphne’s attitude.
However, it also means not seeing Hawk walking around the office in his gear. At work, Hawk is so authoritative. It does something for me, which I noticed when we were at the grocery store.
“Don’t even think about it,” he whispers into my ear in a soft but decisive tone while his big hand covers mine to prevent me from grabbing my wallet at the grocery store checkout.
Goosebumps erupt all over my forearms at the memory, and I quickly shake it out of my stupid head.
“How was it?” My tiny friend asks me as we walk down the courthouse steps.
“Useless,” I say bitterly.
“Bad enough to warrant the mood you’re in?”
“I might have spent the last ten minutes on the phone with my ex.”
The look on Mushroom's face makes it clear what she thinks of Dylan. She wordlessly gestures towards the car, and we start walking.
I’m so glad I made plans with the girls. I need to get my mind in order before going home to DJ.
A few minutes after we merge into traffic, Shroomie asks, “So what did hypnoneck want?”
“I called him, trying to arrange pickup and drop-off for his weekend with DJ next week.”
“You’re a saint. I could never,” she responds honestly.
“I’ve been close to giving up, believe me. But I grew up without a father, and I don’t want that for DJ.”
Mushroom doesn’t say anything at first.
“Blood isn’t everything,” she breaks the silence more than ten minutes later. “I’ve never met my birth parents, and I don’t think I’ve missed out on anything. My adoptive parents are the best. There she is,” she says as she points to Lucy, who’s waving at us from the Rat Park gate.
“The catch is that I have no way of knowing whether DJ will process things the way I did or the way you did. Maybe, when he’s 16, he’s gonna beg me not to send him to his dad’s, but until then, I have an obligation to keep the relationship between them.”
Lucy opens the back door.
“He’ll beg even sooner, believe me. His dad is a piece of work,” Mushroom says, and I feel ashamed. “Is this the first time DJ’s sleeping over?”
“Don’t let something as trivial as social niceties get in the way of your interrogation, Alice,” Lucy teases her, and Mushroom, whose name is apparently Alice, rolls her eyes.
“Hi, Luce,” I say apologetically. “Yeah. Dylan hasn’t even seen him in a month.”
Lucy’s grimace is all sympathy. “Oof. I remember those days. The tension at pickup and drop-off. I used to cry and watch trashy TV in my bed every second my babies were away from me. Nowadays, I enjoy having some time to myself when they’re with him.
Oh, don’t give me that self-righteous face, Shroomie. Talk to me when you have kids.”
“I didn’t say anything!” Mushroom exclaims, looking offended.
“How was the parental conflict resolution class?” Lucy asks me.
“Probably the same as when you took it,” I tell her with a pointed look in the rearview mirror.
“Take a left here,” Mushroom says.
“I tried forgetting everything about it,” Lucy explains with a strange look on her face.
“It felt like a failure, making that stupid parenting plan with the man I, at one point, believed I’d grow old with.
My parents' voices in the background, constantly accusing me of ruining the lives of two little people for no good reason…” Her voice trails off, and the atmosphere in the car turns somber.
“Damn. Today was supposed to be fun,” Mushroom says.
*
“I need a new bra,” Lucy announces in front of a well-known, pricy lingerie store.
Mushroom shakes her head. “I barely wear bras anyway, why would I drop that kind of money on one?”
“I hate bras,” I say, expecting a busty girl like Lucy to commiserate, but she frowns at my chest instead.
“Have you ever been properly fitted for one?”
“It’s not that,” I try to backtrack. “It’s… after breastfeeding and everything that came with it, you know,” I lie.
“You don’t have to tell me,” she says and nods at her own boobs. “Two ziplocks filled with soup here. But they don’t look like it, do they?”
I have to admit, they don’t.
Lucy ropes me into getting measured and fitted by the very friendly saleswoman, and it’s an epiphany. The feeling, the fit, the support.
For the first time in my life, my bra truly fits.
I decide to buy two. And a new pair of underwear that goes well with both.
I spend more money than I received in my first paycheck this morning, but the items make me feel more like Marissa than I’ve felt since the beginning of my pregnancy.
“How long has it taken you to find your way back to yourself after having children?” I ask Lucy as we wait for Shroomie to choose between two identical pairs of boots.
Lucy ponders the question for a moment. “I started feeling more like myself after my younger boy turned three, but then my marriage started crumbling,” she tilts her head and raises her eyebrows, “or I noticed that it had been crumbling. That set me back quite a bit. It does get better, you know,” she adds with an encouraging smile.
“I know,” I respond. “I can already feel it.”
On the drive back, Lucy calls her hairdresser and gets me an appointment for the following week, after having promised beforehand that the woman, Jessica, was nice and would absolutely not judge me for the haircut I gave myself.
“Do we have time to stop at the diner?” Mushroom asks.
“The boys are at Brad’s, so I’m game,” Lucy says.
I glance at the clock. “I have an hour.”
When we settle in at our table, Dana comes over to take our order, and we chat about the shopping trip, Molly, and my upcoming week at the Friendly Fork.
“I have to go,” she says as she stands up. “I don’t want to risk Monica’s wrath.”
“Aren’t you Monica’s boss?” I ask, confused.
Dana shakes her head ruefully. “I am, but it means nothing. You’ll see next week.”
I’m excited to learn more about the inner workings of the diner, but I’ll also secretly miss being around Hawk every day at work. My favorite assignment is taking notes during the meetings he leads.
I'm focused on the words on the screen when I sense his warmth at my back. He leans over and whispers into my ear, “Close your eyes for this part.”
I obey and instinctively tilt my head back a little, seeking his closeness. His belt buckle brushes against my head, and I feel a zap in my belly.
My eyes fly open, and I scan the room, trying to see if anyone is looking at me, but they’re all focused on the absolute carnage on the screen.
I, on the other hand, couldn’t care less.
The only thing I’m aware of is Hawk's closeness. I experience the ghost of a touch on the nape of my neck, and my nipples strain against my bra.
I close my eyes again and let myself believe that Hawk couldn’t help himself, so he ran a finger down my neck.
I am horrified by how inappropriate I am being. I dig my nails into the pad of my thumb for the rest of the meeting.
I blink a few times to dispel the memory and focus on the menu instead.
“Are you attending any of the rides next week?” I ask the girls after we order.
Lucy shakes her head. “Only the breast cancer ride on Saturday. I’m riding with Miguel, since we’re having lunch with our parents that day anyway.“
“That’s nice.”
“You don’t know my parents, so I’m sure it seems that way,” Lucy retorts bitterly.
“I’m going to most,” Mushroom says. “Some for work, some for pleasure.”
I now know that most of her assignments are confidential, so I turn back to Lucy. “How’s everything at work? Has Hammer forgiven me?”
She makes a face like Hammer is being unreasonable. “He’ll live. He’s completed court-mandated anger management, although you wouldn’t be able to tell from the scene he made last week. That makes him sound awful,” she adds with a frown.
“Hawk told me a bit about Hammer’s past, and I don’t blame him,” I reassure her.
“I’ve known Frank since high school. He always idealized Erica, put her on a pedestal. However, it’s been five years. If he’d just accept that the life he imagined was gone, maybe he could start to heal.”
“That’s easy for us to say, don’t you think?” I ask carefully. “That's one of the hardest things to do.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Lucy says, raising her eyebrows at me.
“I thought if I married a doctor, my parents would magically forgive me for not being smart enough to be one like my brother. Eight years and two kids later, I had to say goodbye to that silly dream. Many of us had to, and yet, we didn’t go throwing shit around or making our heartbreak our whole identity. ”
“What Lucy is trying to say,” Mushroom chimes in helpfully, “is that Hammer should finally open his eyes and move on with her instead of still turning into the Hulk whenever someone mentions his cheating whore ex.”
Lucy’s entire face is red. She looks like she’s about to give Shroomie a tongue lashing, but luckily, Hawk and Kate enter the diner and start walking towards our table.
Their arms brush against each other as they walk, and I feel a sharp stab in my chest.
Are the two of them a thing? I never noticed anything at the office.
I try to keep my face neutral as we all say our hellos.
Hawk puts his hand on the back of my chair and gives me a warm smile. “How was your day? How was court?”
The three women are shamelessly staring at us.
“It was okay. We went shopping afterwards,” I say rather stupidly.
“Did you get anything for yourself?” He talks quieter than usual, and I find myself leaning in.
“I did.”
“Good.” He nods, leaning even closer.
I take a deep breath, soothing myself with his perfume.
“What should we do for dinner?” Hawk asks.
By now, I’m sure my face is red.
Luckily, Kate says something, and Mushroom responds, “I’ve been meaning to ask Marissa as well.”