AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’d never been the ultra-strong mom who was good at saying no. I was the coddler, the nurturer. My comfort zone hovered around reading stories and kissing them good night. Breaking their hearts was my literal nightmare.
“It’s not a good time for me to—”
“Is it because of Dad? Do you not want to work with him?”
Mentally stomping on the brakes, I pulled in a deep breath. Then I backtracked, using my sweetest, most nurturing mom voice. “Of course not.” Absolutely. “Your dad would be so fun to work with.” It would be torture. “I am so disappointed that I can’t.” If I can pull this off, I will host a solo-party and toast my successful avoidance of the man with a cold brew and a cake pop.
Miles stuck his bottom lip out. “But I’ve been telling everyone about how amazing your painting is for, like, a week now! I even told Mrs. Henderson that you guys would have the best game.”
I hadn’t painted since the boys were babies, but Dallas, always full of curiosity, had gone through a stack of canvases that had been in storage for years. He, of course, had shown Miles immediately. After that, they’d been relentless, asking me to paint for them, but I’d successfully employed my most reliable excuses—I was too busy; it was too messy; I no longer had the necessary supplies—to put it off, and slowly, the frequency with which they asked dwindled to nothing.
I winced. “Miles, honey, I just don’t think it would be appropriate for me to—”
He groaned, scooting his chair back from the table, and grabbed his backpack.
“Ugh, I knew Andrew’s mom was right!” He heaved the bag onto one shoulder and stormed away.
Adeline Phillips was the kind of mom who lived vicariously through her kids, and not in a good way. The gifts she lavished on teachers cost hundreds of dollars, and she spoke about her kids’ birthday parties as if they were national celebrations worthy of coverage by CBS Philly. I was all for spoiling my boys, but making a spectacle of one’s kids to gain local mom points for a pyramid scheme MLM was just plain skeevy.
Anyway…I digress.
“Wait. What did Andrew’s mom say?”
Miles stopped in his tracks, back still turned.
He dropped his head and slumped. “Andrew told me his mom said that you and Dad would never work together. That there was no way our class would win the field trip to Hershey Park.”
It wasn’t nice to hate people. That’s what I preached to the boys. But let’s just say I strongly, strongly, disliked Adeline Phillips. The woman peaked in high school and had been making it everyone else’s problem since.
I squatted in front of Dallas. “There’s a chance to earn a trip to Hershey Park?”
He sniffled. “Yeah. We were going to get matching shirts that said I like you a choco-lot.”
Oh heavens. It was official. I was the worst mom ever.
With a deep breath in, I squared my shoulders, determined to do what had to be done. It was going to suck, but I’d make it work.
“Miles,” I said, brushing his hair out of his eyes.
With another sniff, he wiped his nose with his forearm and lifted his head. “Yeah?”
“Tell Ms. Kim to order those T-shirts.”
Adeline Phillips could suck it.
My heart dropped every time Marigold texted me. By now, I shouldn’t be so affected. It was usually nothing. Stuff like Make sure you pack their cleats, and Don’t let Dallas eat too much candy. Things that I already knew to do but that she loved to remind me of anyway.
But this time, when I unlocked my phone, the message read, We need to talk. I stumbled at the sight, stubbing my toe as I rounded my desk.
I winced. At my toe and my phone.
What could we possibly have to talk about after the other night at Romfuzzled? If Crew hadn’t busted down the door with his flyers, I had no doubt Marigold would have been lighting torches and sharpening pitchforks within seconds. I could see it in her eyes, the wild factor kicking in, encouraging her to go ahead and drop-kick me while my guard was down.
We had nothing to discuss but the boys, and when we talked about them, we did it using two-word sentences. Unless…
No.
Surely she didn’t want to go over the divorce. It had been years, but we’d never truly discussed it. I mean…not really. We discussed paperwork and schedules and whatnot. But we’d never broached the subject of why she ran out that night, or how we could’ve saved it. If she even wanted to.
