11. Dallas
DALLAS
“We’re fine, Mom. I’m working late hours, but it’s nice, getting to interact with other adults, you know?”
I’m balancing the phone between my shoulder and my cheek while I finish making the boys’ favorite meal—chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese.
“Boys, dinner!” I call out.
They’re watching Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron on the TV because, sometimes, Mama just needs a little bit of quiet to make dinner and not play referee the entire twenty minutes.
“You’re working at a bar, Dallas. How can you possibly enjoy that more than staying at home with the twins?”
I take a sip of my pinot noir. I don’t think my mother realizes how condescending she sounds. My father has always taken excellent care of her, paid the bills, and never given her a shred of a reason to doubt that he will always come home at night.
She’s trying to be supportive of me during this time, but to her, it’s like supporting someone through the zombie apocalypse through the phone.
She just hasn’t lived through it, so grasping the concept of how working in a sleazy bar is more pleasant than living with someone like Matt isn’t clicking for her.
And I’m glad. I’m thankful she has no idea what it’s like to be mentally and emotionally and sexually abused by your own husband until you’re so miserable that you’d rather get hit on by scumbags at two a.m. just to get a lousy tip than to ever be in a bed with him again.
“I miss being with the boys all the time of course, but—”
The blaring of the fire alarm interrupts my words. I frown, wondering if the small amount of steam coming up from the noodles could’ve set it off.
“That’s weird. Mom, I need to call you back.”
“Okay, sweetie. Tell the boys Gamma loves them big. Bye!”
I tuck the phone in my pocket before setting the boys’ plates in front of them, one blue and one green.
A commotion outside the apartment door draws my attention, and I move to the front door to investigate.
The raised voices aren’t at all uncommon here.
I look through the peephole and notice a few people rushing by with bundles in their arms.
What the hell is going on?
I unlock the dead bolt and the extra lock I installed myself the second night we were here and I continually heard thumping outside.
“Fire! Fire on the second floor!” a shrill voice screams.
It takes me a few seconds to react. The smell of smoke reaching my nostrils is what does it.
“Oh my gosh.” I spin around, grabbing my car keys and my purse. “Boys! Get your shoes, and let’s go!”
I run into the bedroom, picking up the first bag I see, and throwing in a few clothing items in it for the twins.
I gather up each of their favorite stuffed animals and their blankets they can’t sleep without before rushing back out.
A small amount of smoke has filtered into the apartment, causing my heart rate to skyrocket.
“Boys! I said get your shoes!”
They were too busy downing the mac and cheese and nuggets to pay attention to me. I snag the shoes by the door and stuff them in the bag before going over to tug on each of their arms.
Dawson hops down from the chair. “Mommy, I want more mac ’n’ cheese.”
“We’re leaving! Let’s go see the horses again. You wanna do that?”
They both perk up at the word horses. I try to keep the panic from my voice to make it seem like an adventure.
Dutton grabs a nugget for the road and finally follows me.
At the last second, I pick up my prettiest pothos plant sitting on the dining room table and shove it inside the backpack.
I look longingly at the row of thriving herbs, but I know I don’t have the space in my arms. It’s so stupid because they’re only plants, but the thought of losing more after already losing my entire back garden at my old house makes me want to scream.
Last time I was there to get the boys, I noticed they’d all turned brown and died.
The smoke is thicker now. I’m able to hustle them out of the apartment and shut the door, not bothering to lock it, right as a fireman runs past us.
“We’re evacuating the entire building, ma’am. Get downstairs to safety! Is there anyone else in the apartment?”
I shake my head, pulling both the boys by the hand down the staircase, all three of us barefoot. My heart is thumping inside my chest. Another fireman is running up the stairs in full gear.
The boys gape at him.
“Mommy! A fireman!”
“Yeah. How cool, right? Hurry!”
I exhale a sigh of relief when we make it to the ground floor.
There are tenants gathered around in varying states of disarray.
I head straight for my car, watching out for anything in the parking lot that could hurt our bare feet.
The boys, thankfully, still haven’t caught on to the seriousness of the situation.
“Mommy, I’m hungry. Can we go back and get my nuggets?” Dawson says, eyeing Dutton as he takes a big bite of the one he brought with us.
“No, we’ll get something else for dinner.”
I unlock the car, thankful it’s parked on the street so I’m not blocked in by any of the fire trucks. I toss the bags into the middle seat before buckling the boys in as quickly as possible.
“I’m hungry,” Dawson whines.
“Look, I brought Big Puppy. Do you want him?” I hand him the brown stuffed dog.
He immediately perks up. Dutton opens his mouth to complain, but I cut him off by handing him his favorite stuffed bear.
“I brought you Big Bear.”
The twins are not the most creative with naming their animals.
He hugs the bear tightly before settling down. A siren blares in my ear as another fire truck races by. I close the boys’ door and climb into the front seat, ready to escape the chaos and settle my thundering heart rate.
“I cannot believe this is my life right now,” I grumble.
I navigate to the first person I can think to call and tap on her name. I put it on speakerphone and pull away from the curb.
She answers on the third ring.
“Hey, pretty lady! What’s up?” Rosie’s voice is upbeat.
“Um, well, it’s been better.”
“Oh no. Is it Saruman? What did he do this time?”
Saruman is the nickname we use to talk about Matt because we always have little listening ears. It’s the evil wizard from the Lord of the Rings movies, one of my favorite series.
“Actually, not him this time, but—”
My phone starts buzzing with another incoming call. I pull it away from my face to see that my ex is calling me.
Fuck my life.
“Wow, his ears must be ringing because he’s calling me. But no! Not about him. Um, my apartment complex caught on fire, and we had to evacuate.”
I rush the last words out, taking a left turn toward Redford Ranch. Rosie has offered her guest room up to me countless times. I struggle with accepting help, big time, but the circumstances I’m in are leaving me with no other options.
I’d rather sleep in my car than stay under the same roof as my ex-husband.
“Oh my gosh! Girl, are you okay? Did anyone get hurt? If you need a place to stay, we have plenty of beds here!”
I exhale a sigh of relief. “Yes, we’re okay. It was a little scary when the fire alarm went off in the middle of dinner, but we made it out. I didn’t know how bad it was, so I wasn’t able to grab much stuff. I really hope it doesn’t destroy all my belongings.”
Oh shit. I never got around to applying for rental insurance …
With the stress of split custody and working so many hours, it completely slipped my mind.
“Oh wow, I am so relieved y’all are okay. Come over right now! My mom is staying with us, but the main house has plenty of room, or you can sleep in the bunkhouse with Eden.”
My phone starts buzzing again. I don’t have to look to know that it’s Matt. I grind my molars together and take another left turn.
“I’d prefer to stay in the bunkhouse, if that’s okay. I don’t want to be in your way. Hopefully, it’s just for a few days, and we’ll be able to go back.”
I can’t fathom sleeping under the same roof as Duke Redford.
That scenario would make my entire body go up in flames.
“It’s fine. I have a million younger siblings and nieces and nephews. I love kids.” Eden smiles warmly at me as she towel-dries Dutton’s hair.
Dawson is still in the bathtub, making fire truck noises that are giving me anxiety.
I sigh, leaning against the doorframe. I don’t know Sterling’s wife well, but she seems like a complete doll, the kind of girl who makes me wish I knew when to keep my mouth shut and act like a sweetheart.
Everyone loves a sweetheart like Eden. She’s easygoing, helpful, and soft-spoken.
She looks like Rapunzel, the cartoon version with big eyes. She has long, golden hair and a cute little baby bump. I looked like a whale when I was pregnant—a pregnant whale.
“I really appreciate you. Sorry we invaded your space and barged in here with no warning.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t do well with the silence. Little feet running around is just what I needed.”
I almost cry right then at how kind she’s being, but I manage to hold back the emotions that have been nearly boiling over all damn day.
“Dawson, let’s go. Time to get out. Drain the tub, please.”
He loves to drain the tub himself since he learned how to do it.
He pulls up on the silver knob. I lead Dutton toward the bedroom the boys are sleeping in and start dressing him in his pajamas.
Thankfully, I managed to grab them each a clean set.
I can’t say the same for myself. I’m still wearing the frumpy, old black leggings and cropped white top with no bra that I had on when the fire alarm went off. I smell faintly of smoke.
At least the bunkhouse is nice and cozy.
Eden brings Dawson in, wrapped in a towel, and helps him get dressed. I thank her, and she smiles before leaving the room.
“Okay, boys, time for bed. It’s fun to have a sleepover at the ranch, right?”
They both nod, lying down in the queen-sized bed.
“I wanna ride a cow tomorrow,” Dutton says.
I snort, nodding. “Okay, I don’t know if they do that, but we can ask Mr. Holden.”
“I want to learn ropes with Cowboy, Mommy,” Dawson says, scrunching his face up.
‘Cowboy’ is the nickname they’ve given Duke.
I lick my lips, sighing. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do about that tomorrow. It’s bedtime right now though.”
I say a quick bedtime prayer and give them each a kiss on the cheek before leaving the room with the door cracked open.
When I walk back out into the living room, Eden is sitting on the overstuffed chair in the living room, reading a book.
I envy her ability to sit still and read, which is something I haven’t done in years.
“Your phone keeps buzzing on the counter, by the way,” she says, eyes still on the page.
“Okay, thank you.”
I grab the phone, wishing I had left it at the apartment to go down in flames when I see Matt’s name flash across the screen. He’s called me sixteen times and texted me a slew of colorful texts.
Matt
I’m just calling to tell my sons good night.
You think they don’t want to hear their father’s voice before bed?
Bitch.
I’m calling to talk to the boys, not their whore mother.
Answer your fucking phone!!!!!!!!
I’m calling my lawyer and telling him you’re refusing to let me speak to my children.
You know this is illegal, right? Just checking. I know you don’t have a degree or anything.
You’re probably fucking someone and ignoring my kids right now.
Sounds about right.
Answer my fucking phone call, or you’re not going to like what happens when I find you.
I release a deep exhale, wondering how I made it five years, being married to such a bipolar psychopath. I was literally escaping a fire at my apartment building, and he’s accusing me of sleeping with someone else and being a bad mom.
I don’t have the energy for him tonight. I send a quick text back, for legal purposes only.
Dallas
The boys are okay. I just put them to bed. We had to evacuate the apartment. That’s why I didn’t answer. We’re staying at a friend’s house. You can talk to them in the morning.
My stomach feels queasy. I hear a knocking on the front door as soon as I set the phone down. Eden perks up before looking down at her book again. I move to answer it, my heart twisting with the knob when I see Duke on the other side through the window. I pull open the door.
He looks … exhausted. His eyes are wide and bloodshot, his black hair mussed.
There’s a stain on his gray T-shirt. He licks his lips when he sees me, his eyes sweeping over me like he’s checking for open wounds.
Oyster, the yellow ranch Lab, is panting at his feet, staring up at me with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey.” I cross my arms over my chest when a cool breeze moves over me and my nipples perk up.
He opens his mouth, then closes it. He’s holding a Tupperware, which he extends out to me.
“It’s chili. I didn’t know if you … if y’all had time to eat before …”
I blink in surprise, staring down at the food. My stomach rumbles as I take it. Then he hands over a reusable grocery bag.
“Snacks. Just some extra stuff we had.” He licks his lips again, and I notice him swallowing.
“Thank you,” I manage, feeling an indescribable urge to throw my arms around his neck.
“You’re welcome. Are you … are they okay?” He shifts in his boots, shoving his now-empty hands in his pockets.
I almost let the tears fall then. They threaten to come out, to spill down my cheeks like a dam breaking.
But then I see the headlights speeding down the driveway toward us, and my throat dries up because I recognize that truck.
Fuck, he must have been tracking my location this entire time.