Page 10 of Scars on my Heart

The chicken was in the pan on the stove cooking away, while mom was cutting up the veggies and I grated the cheese. Everything was coming together quickly. I'd just placed all veggies on the table, along with the shells, and went to grab the chicken from the pan when the doorbell rang.

“Watch that,” I said to my mom, shaking the pan of chicken, leaving it to cook a little longer.

I stepped into the hallway to see if I could see who was at the door but couldn't. I glanced back at the stove to see my mom watching over it. The second I opened the door, I wished I'd not bothered. Valerie stood there, looking less than pleased.

She shoved me out of the way and stepped into the house. I was just about to ask her what she was doing there when the fire alarm started going off. I took off toward the kitchen, which was now filled with smoke, to find my mom waving the towel under the smoke detector. I quickly removed the pan containing the chicken off the stove and grabbed the flipper I'd been using and pushed at the few burnt pieces, quickly adding a little water to help remove them from the bottom of the pan. Then I opened the window and shoved it open.

"I see nothing has changed here," Valerie said, placing her purse on the island in the kitchen and crossing her arms over her chest.“Mona,” she bit out.

My mother dropped the towel on the island and looked at me. “I’ll be in the other room.”

I didn’t blame my mother. She’d never been able to stand Valerie, and she’d told me after we’d split that when and if she came around, she would leave.

I ignored Valerie’s comment and scooped the chicken into a bowl and then went to call for Grace, who surprised me by coming around the corner.

"Mom!" she screamed, running over, and wrapping her arms around Valerie. "What are you doing here?"

Valerie hugged Grace to her and then smiled down at her. "Who did your hair?" she questioned, running her hand over the messy ponytails.

"Dad. He isn't as good at them as you," she muttered, looking over at me. "He also took my phone."

I gripped the edge of the counter, praying that it stopped me from hitting something or someone, and I didn't mean Grace. I could tell from the look in Valerie’s eyes that she was less than impressed.

"Why would you take her phone away?" she questioned, turning toward me.

"Valerie, an eleven-year-old does not need a phone. She doesn't need a device to text with other kids, or god only knows who."

"I gave it to her so she could get ahold of me whenever she wants."

I clenched my jaw tight. "That is why I pay every month for a phone and the internet. So she can call you when she wants. I've never denied her that."

"What about while she is at school?"

I dropped the bowl of chicken into the centre of the table and turned to face Valerie. "She does not need to contact you when she is at school. She is there to learn, not message her mother."

"Says you. What if she needs something and you aren't around?"

I let out a deep breath and counted to five. "Where the hell would I be?"

"Who knows? You could be stuck in renovations or...I don't know, having coffee with some woman at the diner in town while your daughter is stuck waiting for a ride."

There it was. Grace had been upset when I'd picked her up last night because I'd been fifteen minutes late. It hadn't been a big deal; I hadn’t been the only parent who’d been late. However, sometime between bedtime last night and today, Grace had divulged what I'd told her. That I'd been late because I'd been having coffee with a friend. I'd not mentioned it was a woman, but knowing Valerie, she had probably inserted that little tidbit on her own.

I glanced over to Grace, who sat at the table looking my way, a tight smile on her lips. God, she was just like her mother.

"Dinner is all burnt up," she cried, picking up a piece of chicken and throwing it on her plate.

Valerie looked over at me, a scowl on her face. "Is that what you're calling dinner?" she questioned, walking over to the table, routing through the bowl of chicken, picking up a burnt piece between her fingers and scowling.

"Yes, that is dinner. There is nothing wrong with it. It got a little overcooked because I had someone unexpected show up at the door."

"Gracie, why don't you go upstairs and get changed? Mom will take you out for something."

"She isn't going out for food. Now, Grace, head up to your room. Give me a few minutes to make more chicken and get your mother out of here and on her way, and we will sit down and eat."

Grace looked between her mother and me and then let out a huff. "I want to go out." She scowled, crossing her arms.

I was at the end of my rope. It had been clear why the courts had given me full custody of Grace. Valerie couldn’t hold down a job, had men coming and going all hours of the night, allowed Grace to do whatever she wanted, and she had little to no set rules for her to follow. Leaving her for the few weeks during the summer had probably been a huge mistake on my part, and one I would pay for, for months to come.

---