Page 40 of In Spades

“Do you want a glass of water?” I asked.

She shook her head and sniffed again.

I scooped her up in my arms. “What’s the matter, Zo?”

She buried her head in the crook of my neck. “I have to sing a song for parents’ day at school tomorrow.”

“Zoey!” I exclaimed in a hushed tone. “That’s great! Are you feeling a little nervous?”

She shook her head. “Everybody else will have a momma and a daddy there, and I won’t. After the program, all the mommas and daddies are ‘sposed ta come to the classrooms and sit at our desks wif us and I won’t have anyone there.”

I dreaded parents’ days at school. I dreaded parent-teacher conferences. I dreaded daddy-daughter dances. I especially loathed Mother’s Day and Father’s Day. Obviously, not every kid had two parents at home, but I still hated it for my kids.

And innocent Zoey didn’t understand where our parents were, what they had done, or why they had nothing to do with her.

She whimpered. “Why did mommy and daddy have’ta go away?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. With a shaky breath, I said, “Because sometimes it’s better that way. But you have me and Logan and Ky and Hunter, and we’re still a family.”

She seemed to accept that and squeezed me tight. “Do you wanna sleep in my bed?”

“I don’t think there’s room for both of us, babe,” I said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “But I think Mr. Floppy needs some extra snuggles tonight, so maybe he’d like to sleep with you?”

“Okay!”

I picked up Zoey’s beloved stuffed bunny and booped her nose with him. At least Mr. Floppy pried a smile out of her.

I cradled her in my arms and carried her back down the hall to the small room she shared with Kylie.

“Do you think one day we’ll have a house with a bunch of rooms?”

I smiled faintly. “Maybe someday you and Kylie won’t have to share a room.”

Zoey shook her head and yawned. “I like sharing a room with Ky, but you need a real bed too.”

That damn lump in my throat grew larger.

The older kids remembered what life used to be like. A safe neighborhood. No sharing rooms. No sleeping on a busted couch. New clothes and family outings. It was only a matter of time before Zoey started looking at things more critically. I wanted to slow time down.

I tucked her in and planted a kiss on her forehead.

A lone tear streaked down my cheek as I padded back to the living room. I wiped it away and told myself not to spiral.

The house rule allowed only one person to cry at a time. Since Zoey was having a tough night, I’d just have to save my breakdown for another day.

I tossed my pillow and blanket on the couch and flopped on my back, completely drained.

My phone lit up from its spot on the wobbly end table. I reached over my head and unhooked it from the charger.

Will

How did car shopping go? Any luck?

Kristin

Your girl got some new-ish wheels and a nauseating car payment.

Will

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