Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
“Does anyone really want to scrub toilets?” Von answers me.
“Nope, but it has to be done. So, if you’re packed for the night, we can get this show on the road?”
“I’ll go pack. It won’t take me forever.” He puts emphasis on the word forever. “Where are you going, Mom?” He drags the m out at the end of my name. It’s hard when your son lives with you more than eighty percent of the time and doesn’t know where I’m at or what I’m doing; his little mom sonar goes off like a parent tracking their teenager when they just got their license.
“I’m not going out with Aunt CeCe tonight. She’s with Uncle Wylde. I’m meeting a few friends for dinner.” My best friend’s now husband has taken not only Von under his wing. He makes sure that if something goes wrong and I can’t get it fixed, he takes care of it. Wylder Hayes is a lot like Mace was in the early days before he joined the rat race, thinking we needed the best of the best when all we really needed was him.
“Well, for the record, Mom, I’m not so sure about this.” How is my son five and have the intellect of someone the age of a grown man? He must get it from his daycare because it’s surely not from me or his father.
“I’ll take that into account. Go grab your bag, and I’ll meet you in the living room, okay?” I’m making sure my outfit looks okay, that my hair isn’t doing something funky, with its riots of waves lying right instead of doing this weird swoop that is uncontrollable at the worst of times. And don’t even get me started on makeup. Too much? Too little? Being a woman is not for the faint of heart.
“Okay, but don’t take too long. You’re perfect just the way you are.” If there’s anything I’ve done right in my life, it’s Von all the freaking way. The divorce is a blip on my radar in the grand scheme of things. As long as Von is happy, then so am I.
“I promise not to. Don’t forget to pack Bear.” Von has multiple bears, all named Bear. The one I’m talking about is the original he’s had since before he came home from the hospital. The one Mace gave him as an infant, the one he still carries no matter what house he’s at, and I love that even though he’s this man-like child, there are still some elements of the toddler boy deep inside.
“Mom, I never forget Bear.” I kiss his forehead, albeit briskly because he’s already moving a million miles an hour, and that might work in my favor in the overthinking department.
“I know.” I stand up, smooth out the skirt of my dress, and take one last look at the mirror, ninety-nine percent sure I’m making a mistake with this whole blind date situation. I guess it’ll be another one of those things that you’ll learn from.
TWO
Mace
I’ve ruined a fuck of a lot of things in my life. The woman who dropped my son off at my parents’ doorstep is probably the worst. She’s my wife. Fuck, Tyra isn’t my wife, not for a year now. I’m a son of a bitch, a workaholic, a lousy excuse of a father allowing my job to run my life. The second worst fuck-up of my life is abandoning my son. It’s why I’m here now on a weekend that isn’t mine to spend a night with my son while he’s at his grandparents. I don’t blame Tyra, not at all. I dealt her a shit hand, and there are only so many bad hands one will take until you fold.
“Dad!” I brace for impact, only making an appearance when I knew Tyra was reversing out of the driveway. She still looks as beautiful as ever, even more so than the first time I ever laid eyes on her, back when life was simpler, before I got stuck in this rat race of life, chasing the dollar and leaving my family in the dust. It all started when my boss called me into his office, asking if I’d like to make partner in the law firm. It felt like life was settling into place. Tyra wouldn’t have to work full-time, Von could be home more than at the Montessori-style daycare he’s at now that costs a fucking whack. I would have suggested changing his school years ago, but he’s thriving and clearly excelling in talking, learning, and having fun while doing it.
“Hey, bud, how’s my man doing?” I bend down, pick him up under his arms until we’re at eye level.
“I’m good. I thought you were working?” My own boy knows how much I work. Five years since he’s been born, and that’s the most of what he knows about me. Not that I’ve tossed the football around in the backyard when I have a day off or that we eat ice cream for dinner some nights, that we for sure don’t tell Tyra about, but that he thought I was working.