Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“Then it must’ve been a bad day,” a masculine voice says through the speakers.
Richard.
“It started with my washing machine leaking and soaking my laundry room and ended with my children’s father bailing on picking up our son.” I try not to say anything negative about Richard in front of the kids. Even though I can barely stand him most days, he is their father, and I don’t want to ever sway their opinion of him. But with Ella listening to her movie, I let it slip.
“How bad is the laundry room?” Richard asks, ignoring the part about him bailing. “I can transfer some money over…”
Money… that’s his answer to everything. When we were married and he would mess up, he would throw money at me like it would make everything better. And I’m not talking about expensive gifts. No, when I would get upset over him missing dinner or he would come home smelling like another woman, he would literally give me money. Now, I’m not a materialistic person, but if a guy can’t even take two damn minutes to pick out some flowers when he’s messed up, that should be the first sign he’s not going to even attempt to do the hard work to make a marriage work. Not that it ever mattered. Our marriage was doomed to fail before we even said ‘I do.’
“I don’t need any money,” I say, exasperated. After all these years he should know by now I don’t want his money nor will I take it. But because he doesn’t pay any attention, he doesn’t get it. “Are you taking the kids tonight?” According to the paperwork, he’s supposed to take them every Monday, Wednesday, and every other weekend. Because of his job being so demanding, he almost never takes them during the week.
“I can’t,” he says. “That’s why I’m calling. I have a medical conference I was invited to speak at this weekend. It was last minute, and I need to prepare.”
“So, you won’t be taking them this weekend, either,” I say. “Is Samantha going?” Samantha is Richard’s fiancée. His fourth since we divorced. His second wife, Janine, and him lasted a whole five months. Then there was Rosie, his third wife. They were divorced before the ink was dry on the marriage certificate. Eloise came next, but they never even made it to the wedding. Samantha is number five, if you include me.
“She is…”
“So, couldn’t you make it a family weekend?” I suggest. “I’m sure the hotel has a nice pool.”
Richard sighs. “I can’t pay attention to them properly. I have to prepare for my speech.”
“Isn’t that why you’re not taking them during the week?”
“Harper, can we please not do this?” Richard sighs in annoyance. “If I could take them, I would.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire. I think he’s lied so many times to the kids and me, he’s now believing his own lies.
I pull up to Bridget’s house and Ella takes her headphones off. “We’re here!” she shouts.
“Ella?” Richard questions.
“She had her headphones on,” I tell him before he can make a comment.
“Hey, Daddy!” Ella yells, even though there’s no need to.
“Hey, Ella. Did you have fun at camp?” Richard asks.
“I did! Are you coming to get us?”
There’s a moment of silence on Richard’s end. It was easy for him to not show up when we first divorced. The kids were younger and didn’t understand it all. But as they get older, they ask questions.
“Daddy has to work,” Richard says.
I look in the rearview mirror and see Ella frown in disappointment, and my heart squeezes in my chest. As a mother, all I want to do is protect my babies from ever being hurt. But how do you protect them when the person hurting them is their own father?
“You know I have an important job.”
Yeah, because being a surgeon is more important than being a father…
“Say bye to Daddy, Ella,” I cut in. “We’re at Bridget’s,” I say to Richard.
“Bye, Daddy,” she says, her voice now soft and no longer happy.
“Bye, Ella. Love you.”
“Love you too,” she says back before I disconnect the call.
“Wine as promised,” Bridget says with a dimpled grin from the kitchen, holding up a bottle of my favorite red.
“You make me so happy.” I sigh, grabbing a glass and holding it out for Bridget to pour. “Where are the boys?” I ask, realizing the house is too quiet.
“Outside practicing the stuff they learned today. Apparently, some retired baseball player from the Boston Reds was there helping out and the boys think he walks on water.” Bridget laughs as my heart plummets into my stomach. There’s no way it could be… It’s been over twelve years, but even after all this time, my heart still beats wildly in my chest when he crosses my mind.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Bridget asks as we take a seat on the couch in her living room. “You went from moaning over the wine to looking like someone killed your puppy.”