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All I picture is me dragging him by his fucking red tie to the pool and holding his head under the water until he’s eaten enough chlorine that his sinuses will forever stink like the chemical.
“Brian, mute the call,” Dorothy commands.
“Chuck, give us a second,” Brian says. He mutes the call. He looks at Dorothy.
“Don’t talk to her that way,” Dorothy says. “Bad enough we’re all stuck here right now because of your ineptness, but you’re going to talk to her like that? She’s working on childcare right now.”
Brian glances at Keith.
If he’s looking for reassurances he sure as hell won’t get it from Keith.
Need me? What do you need Piper?
My eyes move from my phone to Brian, back and forth.
“That your babysitter?” Brian asks.
I cringe at that thought.
I’m mad at myself a little too. I’ve boxed myself so far in the corner that my only help is either in this room - minus Brian - or my neighbor. Maryanne is actually an hour away at some exotic bird pet shop to meet with the owner to talk about the cardinal eggs.
Now, sure, maybe I can just let Saxon get home on his own… no thanks.
Also, he has his piano lessons today. Something that means the world to him.
Believe me, I thought about texting Hunter. In my few seconds of considering asking Saxon’s father for help, I don’t know why I did it but I ended up on his socials and - oh, look - Hunter is at some damn football camp program.
He’s actually coaching kids…
Oh, did that piss me off to see.
Of course I don’t get time to be pissed off in these kinds of situations. What I have to do is go down my list, which feels shorter by the day, and I settle and panic text Cutter Buckley to help me.
“Piper?” Brian asks.
“You know, if there was some sort of breach here, why does it concern me?” I ask. “You have the resources. Or you should. And it’s not poor Keith’s fault.”
“That’s why I’m on this call with Chuck,” Brian says. “And I need you three here. Like it or not, okay? How often do I ask you to stay like this, Piper? Be real with me for a second.”
My nostrils flare. “Yes. I’m texting… the babysitter…”
Note to world: here comes another influx of rambling, panicky texts to the hunky stud of a baseball player with a tongue like magic.
This is so embarrassing for me, Cutter. I’m stuck at work dealing with a crisis. I have no help for Saxon. I can’t just let him walk home alone. Don’t bust me on that. It’s my choice. But he also has piano. I know this is a lot to ask. It’s a stretch. Believe me you’re the last person I want to ask to do this.
I send the text.
It instantly shows me that Cutter has read it.
Oh, that ‘last person’ thing sounds mean. I’m not mean. At least not right now. I just need this Cutter. It’s for my son. Not for me. His idiot father is coaching some football thing.
I hit send again.
Then I realize I’m text vomiting about my ex to Cutter.
My face starts to burn red hot.
“I’ve got to continue this call,” Brian says. “Just pay attention when you can, Piper.” Brian smacks the phone on the desk. “Chuck, we’re here. I’m sorry about that. Listen, I’m going to put Keith on the call now. We’ll get this all worked out in no time.”
