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As I popped a mint into my mouth and banged at my keyboard there was a knock on my office door.
“What?” I growled.
The door slowly opened and Isaac peered around it.
“Can I come in?” he asked.
I nodded and beckoned him in with two fingers. “What’s up?”
Isaac closed the door quietly and hesitated before taking the few steps to my desk.
“I just wanted to check that I’m still okay to work today.”
I frowned. “Yeah, why wouldn’t you be?”
“Because my mum is being an idiot.”
“Hey,” I growled. “You don’t disrespect your mom like that.”
Isaac grinned. “You see, that’s why she’s an idi-.” He stopped and cleared his throat. “She’s not thinking straight. You really care about her and were sticking up for her, and that’s exactly what she needs. Dad kind of forgot to care about her after a while and she’s always taking care of us three, so it’s time she had someone take care of her for a change.”
Isaac exhaled as I ran a hand over my face, wondering how a perfect week had turned to shit so easily.
“She won’t take my calls, Isaac,” I explained. “I think she’s pretty much done.”
Isaac shrugged. “Maybe you don’t care about her that much, because if you did you’d go and see her and not leave until she’s realized she’d made a mistake.”
I chuckled. For just nineteen years of age, this kid was pretty smart.
“She home today?” I asked. “Or working?”
“Home and just so you know, she’s as miserable as you are. In fact, and don’t tell her I told you this, I’m pretty sure I heard her crying last night.”
My heart clenched and I felt like I might choke as I thought of my Katie Cat crying.
“Shit,” I muttered.
“She’ll be back from taking Charlie to school at about half past nine,” Isaac informed me as he backed up toward the door. “And don’t take no for an answer.”
* * *
Katie
As I let myself into the house after the school run, I thought about my conversation with Annie the night before. I’d had a little cry in my room and was just wiping away the last residue of my breakdown from my face, when my daughter came barging in.
“Mum, you have to call Dex,” she cried, flopping down onto the bed. “Sort things out.”
I turned my head on my pillow to face her – she was lying on her side, hands together under her cheek.
“It’s not that simple, love.”
“Yes it is,” she protested. “You like him, he likes you. You’re crying because you stuffed up, so just bloody call him.”
“I didn’t stuff up. I told him that I didn’t like him telling you off, and he said he didn’t agree and we couldn’t move on from that.”
She looked at me and her dark blonde hair, in a tangled knot on top of her head, bobbed as she widened her eyes. “Really that’s how it happened?”
“Yes,” I replied, petulantly.
