Page 92 of Down & Dirty

I heard Tommy’s voice in the background and then the call was switched to video. Micah’s adorable face appeared, with Tommy’s alongside it. I scrambled, combing my fingers through my mussed-up hair, and wiping the corners of my mouth, praying the dim lighting in the room would conceal the flush I knew was all over my cheeks and neck.

“He wanted to call, sorry it’s so late.”

Tommy didn’t look sorry. If anything, he looked smug, and for the first time since our separation I got the sense he had actually used Micah against me. I stomped down that thought so I could give my son the attention he deserved, but I was not happy.

“I’m always excited to see you, baby. Though shouldn’t you be in bed by now?”

Micah’s face scrunched up like he’d tasted something sour. “It’s Thanksgiving Eve, momma. We can stay up later on holidays.”

“Oh, that’s right. Special rules for the special day.”

He nodded emphatically while Tommy slipped out of the frame.

“Have you been having fun in New Jersey?”

“I got to ride on a quad through the woods, and Peter said I could have my own next time I come.” Tommy had never given me details on Geena’s family, but I assumed Peter was her father or brother.

“That sounds like fun. Did you wear a helmet?”

Micah’s face scrunched again, but he nodded. “I didn’t like it. But it had a green mohawk on it, so Dad said I looked cool.”

“I bet you looked very cool. Always wear that, okay?” A.k.a. don’t be like your father.

“I will. When are we going home, Momma?”

My heart lurched. It was the first holiday we’d ever spent apart. Normally we’d be camped up with my folks and Ronnie in northern California. And he’d never been in a rush to go home when we were there. His question was normal, and I knew it likely didn’t mean anything, but it triggered something in me, something sad and scared. Like he needed me and there was no way I could get to him.

“We’ll all be back home soon. I’ll see you on Sunday night.” Ever since he was little, he’d liked details, precise timelines. I wasn’t even sure he’d known how to conceptualize them when he was younger, but knowing the timing of things helped to put him at ease.

“Okay,” he said, his expression dimming. “I miss you, Momma.”

My throat ached, and I had to take a breath through my nose to catch myself. “I miss you, too, bud. But it’ll only be a couple more days.” He could count to four, but I hoped he’d let that slide.

“And then we can see Elle and Grumpy?”

“Yep. Then we can see all of them.” He seemed reassured by this, and I let out a heavy breath.

“Okay, night Momma.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? And you can tell me how your turkey was.”

He giggled. “Gobble gobble.”

I laughed, doing the same back to him. He handed the phone to his father, and Tommy ended the call without saying another word. Asshole.

When I finally set my phone on the nightstand and turned to find Cory, he was sitting on a chest under the window, his eyes fixed on me. But the heat in them was gone.

“Sorry.”

He shook his head. “Never,everapologize for that.”

“I got the feeling Tommy might have done that on purpose. Timed it like that just to mess with me.”

“Mess withus, you mean?” His lips curled and a spark of mischief lit in his gaze.

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

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