Page 85 of Miss Manage

What stopped me in my tracks wasn’t the familiarity; it was the state of the place. Dishes piled high in the sink, food scraps on the counters. Laundry spilling out of baskets. Toys scattered across the floor like landmines waiting to be stepped on.

This wasn’t the usual chaos of a Friday night with kids. This was something else. The kind of disarray that didn’t come from a busy day but from someone completely unable to keep up.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here.” Austin practically shoved the baby into my arms, her tiny face scrunched red with fussing. “If you can take baby Laura, I’ll get Ryan and Remi to the potty. I need to make her bottle, but honestly, I don’t usually do this part.”

A sixteen-year-old shouldn’t have to balance any of this. But I bit back the thought. He didn’t need my frustration layered on top of his own.

“I ordered cheese pizza for everyone.”

“At least the littles can eat solids.” I adjusted Laura against my shoulder. “I’ll figure out the bottle.”

“Do you know how?” His tone carried both hope and doubt.

“Sixteen years ago, yes,” I murmured, scanning the counter for the formula. “But let me read the directions first.”

A few minutes later, Laura was latched on to her bottle, her fussing reduced to soft whimpers as I settled her into the swing. After the pizza arrived and was consumed, the toddlers became glued to a cartoon, crusts in hand, and even the two small dogs were satisfied, having lucked into the scraps under the highchairs. For a moment, the house almost felt steady. Almost.

“Does Stassie keep an address book or something?” I asked, rinsing off dishes that looked like they’d been sitting for days. “Somewhere I could grab a number for her family?”

Austin rifled through a drawer and pulled out a leather-bound notebook. “Here. I think this is it.”

He seemed older than sixteen tonight, and so I went forward with an adult type of question. “Austin…is it usually like this?” I gestured toward the mess.

He shook his head. “No. I thought maybe when I got home she was, I don’t know, on strike or something? She and Dad had this huge fight this morning before he left. He called the place a pigsty. She asked to hire help for the kids or housecleaning, and he told her it was her job.”

I bit back a curse, the anger and disbelief rising in my chest.

“How did she seem when she left?” I asked, keeping my voice steady so I wouldn’t add to his worry.

He frowned, thinking it over. “Tired. Her hair was all messy, like she hadn’t slept. Honestly, I thought she might’ve been going to the doctor or something. I should’ve asked.”

I touched his arm. “No, don’t put that on yourself. Even if you would’ve asked, she probably wouldn’t have told you.” Still, the knot in my stomach twisted tighter. Things felt off.

He let out a long sigh. “I should’ve helped her clean this morning, but I don’t like to be around when they’re fighting. I was planning to help tonight.”

“Austin, listen. This is not on you. You’re pitching in now, and we’ll get this place cleaned up. Okay?”

He nodded, flipping through the address book. “Here, these are her parents.”

Relief flickered when I read the address. At least they were up north in Los Angeles and not across the country like Steve’s parents were. “Okay. Let’s give them a call.”

Voicemail. I left a message explaining we were looking for Stassie and asked them to call Austin’s phone. When I hung up, Austin’s face was drawn with worry.

“What do we do now, Mom?”

I forced calm into my voice. “We get the kids ready for bed. One thing at a time.” With Steve somewhere over the Pacific and Stassie unreachable, it was the only plan I had.

My phone buzzed. It was Gabriel calling. I’d have to call him later, once the kids were down.

I slipped the phone into my pocket, forcing myself to focus.

Whatever this was with Stassie…it couldn’t wait.

And Gabriel and whatever this was between us, if there was anything left, would have to.

We had our hands full.

I’d forgotten what life with a baby was like. Laura barely closed her eyes all night, wailing until I gave up on the crib and slipped her into the soft carrier so she lay against my chest. We paced the living room together under the dim glow of the lamp while the twins and Austin slept upstairs.