Page 9 of Mike

Happy with his shopping trip, and hoping he’d picked up the right stuff to entice his kids, Mike made his way to the register, this time keeping his eye peeled for an overlarge hat, but he didn’t see one. By the time he was at his truck, loading in his bags, he’d relegated the oddly dressed woman to the back of his head. He had more things to worry about right now than stranger-danger.

Crap. He didn’t want to think about that other thing, either. But the problem wasn’t going away. His ex-wife’s lawyer had called Mike’s lawyer, demanding a monthly allowance now that the kids were visiting her. In the beginning, when she’d first left and filed for divorce, she’d had nothing to do with their offspring. Because of her disinterest at the time, Mike had settled a bunch of money on Mellie with no expectations of ever giving her more; and especially never imagining he’d be put on the hook for anything monthly. But Tim and Addilynn had eventually begun seeing their mother; and it was occuring more and more often, lately.

So now the bitch wanted compensation.

Mike needed to get with his attorney and see if she had any leg to stand on. He hoped not. She’d already done her best to suck him dry, which included taking half his assets which had been done legally, after she’d illegally cleaning out their joint account when she’d first taken off.

Mike sighed, still not sure how his marriage had ended up going to crap. He thought they’d been a happy bunch, but apparently he’d been delusional. Mellie, when he’d finally confronted her after she’d run off with her young man—and yes, he meant young—had told him Mike had been too wrapped up in his work and his damned collections, and hadn’t paid quality attention to her for a long time. Mike didn’t recall that being the case. He really hadn’t thought he’d been remiss. They’d not only done family nights, but date nights too. They’d taken trips to interesting places, and he’d bought her everything she’d ever asked for. He’d always told her how pretty she was, and their sex life, although not as robust as it had once been, tracked for a couple who’d been married for eighteen years. Mike wanted to put Mellie’s defection down to a mid-life crisis, but he didn’t know if that was a real thing, so he’d asked the one person he still turned to for advice. His mother.

Her words of wisdom—that Mellie was the one who’d gotten a wild hair across her ass, and that Mike hadn’t been at fault—had gone a long way toward relieving his worries. He knew his mother loved him, unequivocally, and was clearly biased in his direction, but after months of her, his father, and the kids reassuring him he was a great man and father, Mike felt better that the fault, indeed, should be laid at Mellie’s door.

But now money…

How much did she want, and if he gave in, how many more times would she come at him for a “raise”? Granted, the kids were both in high school, and when they reached eighteen the state of Maine assured he’d be off the hook, but Mellie could do some serious damage to his wallet in the meantime. He had to look more closely at his rights.

Hefting his bags into his truck, Mike took a good long look around the parking lot and didn’t see anything suspicious. But the minute he pulled out onto the street, the small hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention again.

Keeping his eyes forward as if he wasn’t interested in what was around him, he pulled his phone from his pocket and activated the video function. Keeping it as low as possible, he swept the camera from side to side, pointing it out his windows and also to the rear of his vehicle before turning it off and pocketing it again. He’d look at the footage when he got home, after he’d taken care of his groceries.

“Hey, Dad.” Addilynn gave him a big smile as he walked into the kitchen. “What did you get me?” She agilely gave a pirouetting leap up to kiss him on the cheek, then ignored him while she grabbed and pawed through the bags. “Sweet. Kiwi’s and oranges.”

His daughter was on a fruit kick this month. Last month it had been carb-loading, and the month before were health-shakes. Sometimes it was tough to keep up with her wants, but Mike was glad he’d hit it right this time.

“You know Gramma is going to come cook for you on Saturday night, right Dilly?” he reminded his daughter, using the nickname she’d told him time and time again that she’d outgrown.

“Dad.” She rolled her eyes. “She can cook for Tim. I have a date.”

“With who?” he growled.

Yes, she was testing her wings in the boy market, but no, he didn’t have to like it. She was still just seventeen, and he had final say over her dates.

“It’s Caden,” she stated without acknowledging his gruff tone.

Mike relaxed. Dilly and Caden had been buddies since first grade, and he was a good kid. Of course, he was also an adolescent male, so Mike still needed details. There’d be no parking at the lake.

“Where are you going?” he questioned while shifting some of his purchases to the counter, others to the cooler he’d be taking with him, and leaving the rest of the stuff in the bags to carry back to the truck.

“Midgy Halpin is having a birthday party at her house.”

Mike grunted. Satisfied. “Okay. I’ll tell Gram, but I want you home by eleven-thirty.”

Dilly rolled her eyes again, but didn’t give him any grief as she plunked herself down on a stool and began to peel her orange. She was a sweet girl, thank God, and didn’t push his buttons very often. When she did, she knew his limits.

“I hope you bought more than fruit,” Tim griped as he walked into the room and saw what was on the counter.

“Frozen pizza bites and chicken nuggets,” Mike replied, gaining a smile from his son. He walked over and stashed the items in the freezer. “But they need to last you for two days’ worth of lunches,” he reminded his son.

“Not supper on Saturday?” Tim questioned, heading for Mike’s bag of chips.

“That’s mine,” Mike barked, grabbing the snack and putting it back in his private stash. “I bought you pretzels.”

Tim didn’t seem to mind the rebuke, grabbing the approved bag and ripping into it instead.

Mike continued. “Gram’s coming to cook for you on Saturday night. You’ll be around, right?”

“Mmm, hmmm,” Tim replied incoherently around a mouthful before he swallowed. “Do you think she’ll make lasagna?”

Mike shrugged. “You can ask.”

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