Page 75 of Sleepless Nights and Hockey Fights

“Thanks, man.”

And without another word, he hangs up. I stare at my phone and pace some more. I thought I’d been telling her how I felt. Sure, I haven’t said anything about proposing yet. Didn’t want to say anything until I had the ring made. Blake brought up a good point though. She needs financial stability and to know I want more with her than just sex and date nights every other week.

An idea pops into my head and I quit pacing. “Fucking genius!” My voice bounces off the walls. I pull up our text string. This isn’t the way I wanted to do this, but Molly walking out tonight has forced my hand.

Me: Hey, Sparkle. I know you have a thing with Matthew tonight, but I wanted to ask you a question. Would you and Matthew move in with me? I bought this house knowing you loved it too, envisioning us here together. What do you say? Will you think about it?

It doesn’t take long for the bubble to pop up that tells me she’s writing back. I start pacing yet again. This will be perfect. Without a house payment to make every month, she’ll be better off financially. We can be together all the time. Matthew will have a stable home here. And we’ll be one step closer to getting married.

Molly: Oh, Bobby. That’s a really sweet offer, but I don’t think that’s in Matthew’s best interest. In fact, I was going to suggest we take a step back. Really think about what we’re doing together long term.

A step back? I can’t believe my fucking eyes.A fucking step back?

“Fuck!”

Clearly, I shouldn’t text her back in this state. Instead of responding, I pull up Ashley’s number and hit call with a shaking finger. I’m going to need a marathon session not to take my frustration out on my new drywall.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Molly

“Why won’t you stop calling?!” I yell at my phone where it sits innocently on the passenger seat of my car. I really thought I silenced it after ignoring my parents’ sixth call since yesterday morning. There’s a reason we don’t keep in touch, and if I needed a reminder, I sure got it yesterday.

I pull to a stop at a red light and reach over to possibly chuck the damn thing out the window when I see a different name on the caller ID than I anticipated. I quickly click accept and bring it to my ear.

“Hi, Andrew,” I greet Matty’s counselor, forcing my tone to go from pissed off to pleasant.

“Hello, Molly. Just checking in real quick to let you know I’m filing Matthew’s monthly report, and I’m really pleased with the progress we’ve made in such a short time,” Andrew says in a friendly manner.

Thank you, God, I mouth silently to the ceiling of my car as I continue waiting for the light to turn. “That’s great to hear. Any big concerns?” We’ve been making strides, and Matty is talkingto me a little more. He still loses his temper now and then and withdraws sometimes, but there haven’t been any more fights at school. Knock on wood.

“Well, it’s always good to be vigilant when bullying is involved, and Matthew is still working through a few issues on that. But it takes time.”

“I understand. Well, thanks for the update, Andrew. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. I’ll email you a copy of the report and see you both next week.”

“Great.” We hang up and I exhale loudly, dropping my head back to the headrest. Well, at least one thing is going right.

The light changes and I accelerate through the intersection while continuing to draw in calming breaths. Anger isn’t one of my go-to emotions, but my parents have a special way of teasing it out of me, so I’ve been a bit of a hot mess the last twenty-four hours. At least anger feels more productive than continuing to mope around about Bobby.

Maybe the call with my mom was just the thing I needed, though, to reassure me that I’m making the right choice by pumping the brakes with Bobby. The minute I heard my mother’s voice yesterday morning, I knew exactly why she was calling, even though she started out with the usual pleasantries.

It was the same old song and dance, though. She and my dad had thought something was a sure thing and, as usual, it fell apart, leaving them broke. Again.

“If you could just spare a few thousand, it would make all the difference, sweetie,” my mother coaxed. Just hearing her voice made my skin feel too tight and brought back all the memories I try never to think about. Like how she stole all the birthday and Christmas money I’d been collecting over the years from my grandparents and spent it on call-in psychics and scratch-offs. Or how my dad scammed my friends’ parents and thenmy friends weren’t allowed to come over anymore. Or how the only way we had decent food to eat and heat in the winter was because I worked my ass off at after school jobs.

My parents have always lived in an alternate universe where you can just wish things into being by sheer will or hope. They have no use for practicality, as is evidenced once again by their latest catastrophe. I learned from experience that the majority of times, things don’t work out like you want, and the sooner you smarten up and accept that, the easier your life will be.

“You know I would never ask if it wasn’t an emergency,” my mother continued as I focused all my energy on not freaking out my son by screaming bloody murder into the open refrigerator.

“Mom, I’m sorry, but I can’t help,” was the response I repeated at least four times throughout her lengthy explanation. Sure, I’ve got the money coming from Bobby’s commission, but that’s Matty’s and my money, and I’m not the same young, naive teenager who thought it was her job to be responsible for grown adults who make terrible choices and refuse to learn from their mistakes.

The call ended when I lied and told her I had to leave for work. To her credit, she only sighed and said she loved me. I told her I loved her too because I do, despite how hard I’ve tried not to. It turned out to be a bad decision, however, because it apparently made my dad feel like he had permission to call an hour later. I chose not to answer that time—nor the four following times.

I have spent my entire adult life determined not to make any of the same mistakes my parents made. I got my associate’s degree while working two jobs, I always pride myself on being a model employee wherever I work, I’m frugal and thoughtful in how I spend my money, and I don’t deal in fantasies and pipe dreams. Ever.

Until very recently, that is.

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