Chapter 6
Chapter six
“Can you buy babies from the supermarket?”
I looked at Addy in the rearview mirror. Cockalorum had asked me to pick them up since he was too busy to drive them back. “No. They grow in bellies.”
“What if you make them?”
“But you do make them. In your belly.”
“I mean in a lab.”
“That’s not allowed.”
“Would you get in trouble?”
“For making a child in a lab? Yes.”
“But I wouldn’t be stealing a baby. I’d make it, and it would be mine.”
“Sorry, pumpkin pants, still not allowed.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and sat back with a harrumph. “But I want a baby brother.”
My arms jerked, and I barely avoided mounting the sidewalk. “You already have a baby sister.”
“Tammy said that she doesn’t want to grow a baby because it’s going to destroy her figure. So Daddy said she can have us.”
This time when I jerked my arms, I scraped my rims against the curb.
I didn’t get a chance to answer before Addy went on. “What’s a figure?”
I swallowed a few times, my mouth suddenly dry. “A figure is the shape of your body.”
We pulled into my driveway before she could ask any more questions.
“Okay, pumpkins, let’s go inside and you can tell me all the fun things you got up to with your dad.”
At least now I knew why Cockalorum was suddenly so interested in getting custody. Asshat.
My phone rang as I closed the front door behind us. Dropping the girls’ bags, I fished through my handbag. It stopped ringing before I found it, then immediately started up again. I froze when I saw the display. Vance was calling. On a Sunday. That couldn’t mean anything good.
“Hello?”
“You got arrested? Are you out of your mind? And I’m your lawyer. If you want me to represent you, I need to know everything. And you should know that getting arrested doesn’t look great to judges.”
God, why was the man so rude? “I didn’t get arrested on purpose.”
“I sure hope not. At least they didn’t charge you with anything. But public intoxication? Lay off the alcohol until your divorce is finalized. Then you can get as drunk as you want. I’m going to have to call in a lot of favors so your little tantrum never sees the light of day.”
I’d never been a big drinker, so his comment cut deep.
And the only reason I was arrested was because I’d been doing something else.
Something I’d never tell him about, of course.
Because if he was this angry about me getting arrested without even getting charged, he’d completely blow his lid if he knew what else I’d done.
“I wasn’t planning on drinking that much. But they make an amazing lemon drop martini, and I was upset that the kids weren’t home, so I overindulged. I can assure you it won’t happen again.”
“Next time you get arrested, you call me. Do you understand? Your first call will be me. Nobody else.”
“I understand. But there won’t—”
I didn’t get to finish the sentence since he’d hung up on me. Rude.
Picking the bags back up, I dropped them in the kids’ rooms, vowing to deal with them later.
The girls were in the backyard, playing with Orange.
Since he refused to chase a ball or do anything that involved more than casually walking, he was currently sitting down, letting them decorate him with leaves.
After collapsing into one of the big chairs I’d put out there last year, I called Malena. Somebody told Vance, and there weren’t many options. She picked up right away.
“Hey, chiquita.”
“Did you tell Vance I was arrested last night?”
There was a loaded silence before she hesitantly answered. “I might have. Why?”
“Because he called and yelled at me.”
She groaned. “Shit. Sorry. It was an automatic thing. Your lawyer should know everything. That way they can represent you properly. But I should have let you do it.”
“You should have. He already doesn’t like me. Now he hates me.”
But still seemed willing to represent me. I guess you didn’t have to like your client to be able to represent them.
“He doesn’t hate you. He’s just a little rough around the edges. He’s a great guy. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be friends with him.”
Malena was way too nice. She might have been cutthroat in court, but outside of her work, she wore rose-colored glasses.
“He keeps yelling at me.”
Dear Lord, I sound like one of my daughters.
“I’ll talk to him.”
I sat up straight, clutching the phone to my ear. “No. Don’t do that.”
“Okay, okay. I won’t. Promise.”
“If you do that, he’ll think I complained about him to you.”
Which I kind of had, but he didn’t need to know that.
“My lips are sealed.”
Someone called out to her in the background. “Sorry, guapa, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow at the office.”
“See you tomorrow.”
We hung up, and I sank back into the seat.
Since the outdoor furniture was pretty much new, I should be able to get money for it.
And there was no time like the present, so I snapped a few pictures of it, then posted them online.
The outdoor playset was next, followed by most of the tools in the shed.
I had no use for a lawn mower or wheelbarrow.
And I needed the money, so the more I could sell, the better.
I still had a few designer dresses and one or two handbags, so while the kids were busy, I posted them online as well. I’d researched a few websites that specialized in selling secondhand designer clothes and hoped I’d be able to sell them quickly.
I’d already gotten rid of the furniture in the unused sitting room and planned on selling some of my kitchen appliances as well.
The girls came rushing back in, Orange slowly following. “We’re hungry,” they announced at the same time.
I mentally cataloged the sorry state of my pantry and fridge. “How about mac and cheese?”
Elana shook her head. “Tammy says pasta is bad for you.”
“A moment on your lips, forever on your hips,” Addy singsonged.
“Excuse me, what?” I sputtered, my brain unable to compute what had come out of their mouths.
Elana climbed up onto the barstool that I’d sold this morning. Someone would be picking it up tomorrow. “Dad doesn’t eat carobs anymore.”
“Carbs,” I automatically corrected her. “You’re still growing. You need carbs.”
“Tammy said—”
“Okay, okay, I know Tammy doesn’t agree with me. But how about we eat what we want while you’re with me, and then you eat what your dad and Tammy make for you while you’re there.”
“Tammy doesn’t cook. Anja does,” Elana stated matter-of-factly.
“Who’s Anja?”
“She cooks for them. And she cleans the house. She even washed my dress when I spilled something green on it.”
Addy giggled. “You mean when you spit out the spinach and it dribbled down your chin and onto your clothes.”
Elana growled at her sister. “It tasted like my socks.”
“No fighting.” I waved the box of macaroni at them. “Now, who wants to help me make mac and cheese?”
They both rushed around the counter, pushing each other out of the way. Orange joined us, having finally made his way inside, settling down in front of the stove in a way I knew meant he’d only move if promised food.
But since he’d been put on a diet by the vet, there wouldn’t be any treats for him unless they were carrots. And he definitely wouldn’t move for carrots.
Lucky for him, the kids spilled plenty of cheese and pasta on him.
And thankfully, nobody shared any more Tammy wisdoms.
I knew I had to talk to Cockalorum about what she’d said. But for now, I preferred to go to bed, cuddling with Orange and pretending everything was okay. Because manifestation was a thing apparently, and at this stage, I’d try anything to turn my life and that of my girls around.
Only positive thoughts allowed.