Chapter Eleven Madelyn
I had semi-half-clothed kinda-sex with Mercer.
And it was awesome.
It was loving and spontaneous.
And I came.
Oh, my God, did I come. I had to be helped back to the picnic area, and Mercer carried me halfway home.
And he wants to do it again.
Eli’s voice still exists in my head, but as I do my Saturday morning chores, it’s more like static.
He didn’t see all your rolls, chubby.
So? He’d love them if he did.
You didn’t show him your saggy tits.
They’re not saggy. They’re soft and round, and they made Zack into the healthy kid he is. Mercer would love them simply because of that.
That cock is going to split you in two.
Yeah, baby. Jealous much?
“Mama, you’re singing.” Zack holds up a picture of a purple dinosaur and a collection of letters over it. “T-Rex. See the t? See the x?”
“That’s so good!” I cry, kissing his head in passing.
“No swimming today?”
“Not today,” I hum. “But Mercer will come over when his shift is done, and he’s going to help make dinner and put you to bed.”
“And we can watch a new movie from the library?”
“Yep.”
“Can he have a sleepover?”
“I...” I swallow. “Sleepover?”
“Petey says I can come over for a sleepover this summer. They camp in the backyard. Can we camp in the backyard?”
“We don’t have a tent, buddy.”
“Oh. Well, can Mercer still have a sleepover sometime?”
“We’ll see.”
“Does he sleep underwater?”
“Yes, but I don’t think he has to.”
Zack nods.
I tense and wait for him to resume the “I want Mercer for my dad’ spiel again. I don’t know if my answer would be quite as panic-laden as yesterday.
“I’m going to draw an excavator now,” Zack grabs a yellow crayon and a fresh piece of paper.
“You do that. I’m going to do boring mom things. Pay the bills.”
“Yay, Mama!” Zack says, absently but with his heart in the right place.
I giggle and open my laptop, mentally wondering what Mercer and I can make for dinner. “Do you want chicken?”
“Can I have a goldfish?”
“To eat?” I cry, stopping in mid-tap as I pull up the banking page.
“No! As a pet. Petey and Allison have a big fish tank.”
“Ohhh. Maybe when you’re as old as Petey. Also, I don’t know how Mercer feels about pet fish. As a water-dwelling person, we... should...” I stop speaking and squint.
“What, Mommy?”
“Ask Mercer tonight,” I repeat, eyes narrowed at my screen.
Eli’s child support payment, which covers about 40% of our expenses, hasn’t gone in. It’s supposed to go in by the middle of each month. It’s almost the next month.
“Damn it,” I mutter under my breath and pull my phone from my pocket.
Madelyn: Hi, Linda! I sent out your official birthday party invite yesterday, but just a reminder, it’s coming up.
Please let me know if you’re planning to attend.
Also, I’m no longer speaking to Eli after some horrible things he said to me.
I don’t know how he has spun things to you, but that’s the reason why he is blocked.
However, if you would like to remind Eli that his child support check is due by the 15th of the month at the latest, that would be great.
It will also save him some legal hassle. Hope to see you next weekend!
I mentally start juggling bills and pushing back the automatic drafts I can.
I’m saving up a cushion for preschool tuition next year.
If I send him, it’ll be good for Zack’s social skills, education, and all that, and I can take on more work.
But if I keep him at home, I won’t have that big bill each month.
I can use what I have saved to pay bills right now if I have to.
.. or I can give Eli a little more time.
As if on cue, my phone chimes.
Linda: Eli says he has reached out to his lawyers.
If you want to keep Zack full-time, then you have to stop expecting him to pay child support.
If you want to let Eli have sole custody, then he will waive your child support payments.
He said he sent a certified letter yesterday, and you should have it soon.
Yes, I plan to come to the party. What can I bring?
I sink to the floor, phone dropping from my hand.
No money or no Zack. That’s the deal? That’s the deal he’s proposing.
No judge will support that.
But it could take months of wrangling and red tape to get this sorted in court. Lawyer’s fees. Money I don’t have. Hadn’t budgeted for.
It’s not even about the legal system. He knows it’s blackmail. If there was even a chance that Eli could win... Am I willing to risk giving Zack up? Seeing him only on holidays, and maybe weekends?
Maybe not. What if sole custody means no visitation, just like Eli never visits?
I think I’m going to puke.
“Mommy, does your knee hurt?” Zack suddenly demands, little hands on my shoulder.
I startle, take a deep breath, and nod because it’s easier than saying my heart hurts. Doesn’t Eli realize what this would do to us? Cutting off a big chunk of money with no warning? He can hate me all he wants, but Zack doesn’t deserve this.
“Should I call Grandma?”
My little guy. He’s so awesome. He’s already bending to kiss my knee. “No, don’t call Grandma,” I say, trying to sound composed. I rise and sit at my desk.
“I’ll get you an ice pack. We should call Mr. Mercer!” Zack is running to the kitchen. He can reach the pull-out freezer drawer at the bottom of the fridge, and I hear him rummaging as my mind spins.
Speaking of Grandma, how is Linda okay with this?
She might not like me too much these days, but she’s always been a doting Grandma to Zack.
What’s more, she’s the “rich widow” of the family, someone who could easily afford to pay for Zack’s monthly preschool tuition, private school, or whatever he needs.
How can she type Eli’s plan and end with a casual, “See you at the party, what can I bring?”
“You hurt a lot? You don’t sound okay.” Zack puts the soft gel ice pack on my knee and sticks an orange popsicle in my hand. “Want to sit on the couch?”
“I’m okay now, honey. You go play.”
Zack hesitates. “Can I call Mr. Mercer? Please?”
I hand him my phone after I pull up the kraken’s number. Last night’s giddy afterglow and tonight’s anticipation are squashed flat with worry—and yet I share Zack’s desire to talk to the protective, sexy lifeguard.
Mercer is going to drop everything and come running in. And when he gets here, he’s going to do something useful. He’s going to offer to help.
“Mercer!”
“My little kraken! How is your day going?” I can hear Mercer’s voice boom through the speaker on the phone, warm and delighted to get Zack’s call.
“Mommy hurt her knee, and she says she’s okay, but she’s not okay. She won’t even eat her popsicle!” Zack says this as if my lack of appetite for orange and vanilla is akin to lying at death’s door.
“Her leg?”
“Uh-huh. She was on the ground.”
“I was just catching my breath!” I call, but Zack scampers away.
“On the ground? Zack, is she awake?”
“Yes, but she looks sad.”
“I’m coming over.”
“Yay! See, I knew you were a good dad.”
The words hit me like a gut punch. Yes. Mercer would be a first-rate dad. It’s ridiculous that Eli is the “real father,” and he’s actively doing things that will hurt Zack, either by taking him from me or taking the money that would be used for his education and care.
“Thank you. Stay on the phone with me until I get there.”
I pick up Zack and take the phone. “Mercer, I’m fine. I just... I hurt my knee,” I say in an unconvincing voice.
“Samantha, I need to leave. It’s an emergency. Restrict swimming and call in backup. What? I know I still have three more hours on my shift. It’s an emergency, my girlfriend is hurt, and our little boy is alone with her.” Mercer’s voice is steely, the kind of voice you don’t argue with.
He said girlfriend.
He said our little boy.
I have never heard those words before. Not even “our son” when Zack was born. Eli called him “the kid,” and “the baby,” and “your son.”
I want to wrap my arms around Mercer’s neck and tell him we’re his, that he’s ours, that whatever walls I keep putting up are stupid.
But I argue anyway. Flying solo means you don’t ask for help. Having your husband leave you means you learn that you don’t ask men to come to your rescue in case they find out you’re “weak” and an easy target. That’s not true with Mercer, but my adrenaline doesn’t listen to reason.
“You don’t have to leave work, you’re coming over later. I’m walking now. I was just winded.” In shock. Shocked that Eli still has this “I have to win” mentality, like life is a game and his son and I are pieces on the board to capture or knock over.
“Too late, I’m on my way.”
“But you’re at work.”
“And you’re my mate—I mean, partner. Girlfriend. Aren’t you?”
A stubborn glow flickers back to life inside of me. “Yeah.”
“If I were hurt, wouldn’t you rush to my aid?”
I can’t picture Mercer getting hurt. He’s so big and strong.
Yet, I suddenly imagine him in some horrible water-related accident.
Like, harpooned. Or cut by a speedboat’s rotors.
I can’t picture life without him, even though he’s only been in my world for such a short time.
I can’t picture Zack’s face if something were to happen to him. “I’d be there as fast as possible.”
“Then go rest. Put your feet up. What happened?”
“I... I read something terrible, and I fell to my knees.”
Zack gasps. “What was it, Mama?”
“Just something scary. Too scary for you.”
Mercer mutters something about needing river access from the lake to my house, and I can hear his tentacles slapping the ground. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“Can I still stay on the phone with Mercer?” Zack pleads.
I nod, sickened again to realize that if I don’t agree to the blackmail and Eli wins (by some catastrophic miracle), that Zack won’t just lose me, but he’ll lose Mercer, too.