Page 8 of Alfie: Part Two

Just like it’d hurt Alfie—and I hadn’t protected him from that.

I wasn’t going to make that mistake twice.

My parents were no longer welcome in my house. They could watch the children every now and then—I didn’t want their relationship with them to suffer—but if I detected a single trace of my parents’ attitude in Trip and Ellie, I wouldn’t hesitate to sever the ties completely. I’d made that clear.

“I’d take care of it every day!”

“Princess, you’re not getting a pony.” I accepted the steaks from the guy behind the meat counter, and I placed them in the cart. Only almond flour and toilet paper left on my list. We had everything for the barbecue later, and I hadn’t forgotten the cereal I’d noticed Colby preferred.

I just knew he wouldn’t request it.

“Or a baby goat!” Ellie pleaded. “I said baby goat also.”

“You’re not getting a baby goat either.” I checked the signs above the aisles and started regretting letting Ellie attend that damn camp this week. Oh, the brochure had been lovely—let your kids spend a week on a nice farm just twenty-five minutes outside of the city, feed the animals, learn about them, lunch and snacks included, one adult for every three kids in the ages between five and ten…and it hadn’t been outrageously expensive.

I’d thought it’d be a wonderful learning opportunity, and two of her best friends had been there too.

The joke was on me. My daughter’s wish list for Christmas was officially ridiculous. She thought she could raise ducks in our pool, and mySopranosjoke had flown right over her head.

Alfie would’ve laughed.

At least I had Trip on my side. He’d been horrified at the notion.

“They will poop in the water!”

He’d actually raised his voice.

Once we were done, we made our way to the registers, and Ellie kept pleading with me while Trip was immersed in his game on his phone.

Nope, no pig or alpaca either, Ellie. Definitely no cow.

“Lizzie R is getting a pony,” she whined.

I smiled apologetically, a bit embarrassed, at the cashier before I turned to Ellie. “This discussion is over, Noelle. I’ve told you several times that we can’t have a pet. There’s no one to take care of it when I’m at work.”

“But, ohhhh!” She stomped her foot, and her face got all flushed like it did before a tantrum.

Time to go home. Stat.

She blew up the moment I pulled into the driveway, and I spent the next couple of hours trying to ignore her screaming from her room. Every now and then, she came out to yell something at the top of the stairs.

“I’m gonna ask Daddy instead! He will say yes because he loves me!”

I suppressed a sigh and soaked the steaks in the marinade. Alfie and Colby were due to arrive in about twenty minutes, and I wanted everything finished before then. I had a feeling spending an evening with Alfie was going to fry my brain one way or another; I was already frustrated and anxious.

“There’s no way Dad will say yes,” Trip muttered at the kitchen table. He was working on his German castle. Three thousand matches and counting. “Is there?”

“Of course not.”

“Daddy, you’re dumb!” Ellie screamed. “You’re so dumb, dumb, dumb!”

I clenched my jaw and stalked out of the kitchen, and once in the hallway, I spotted her at the top of the stairs.

“We do not call people dumb in this house, Noelle,” I told her sternly. “If you can’t be nice, go back to your room. Do you hear me? You can come out when you’re ready to apologize and—” God-fucking-dammit, the doorbell rang. “Go back in your room,” I ordered.

“No!” she shouted. “I wanna stay with Daddy instead!”

Oh great, she’d reached that age. She could fucking dream. Alfie and I may have our problems, but we were never going to let her pit us against each other, nor was she going to get into a habit of staying with the parent whom she deemed nicer at the moment.

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