Page 34 of How to Ruin Your Ex's Wedding
“Baby mama, how’s it going?”
“Oh, you know, at the same time I’m weaning from the boob, I thought it would be fun to potty train. So, I’ve got Armageddon happening.”
To reinforce her point, I hear the twins yelling in the background. They don’t sound happy.
“Does that mean you don’t have time for drinks later?”
“If by drinks, you mean you come over here and we lock the kids in the play-yard and have martinis in the backyard, then yes, I have time.”
“It’s a deal,” I tell her, laughing. I could use some Crystal time. Sometimes an hour every few days in the morning just isn’t enough.
“What are you doing this afternoon?” she asks.
“Venues.”
“Fun! Did you decide?”
“No, we’re looking at one today and then one or two more later this week. Hunter and Liza decided on three. They’ve negotiated pricing and everything, we just have to decide which one we like the feel of best.”
“Wow, he’s really getting into this, isn’t he?”
“You have no idea.”
“What’s the first stop?”
“Doso Park.”
“I’ve heard it’s amazing. Can’t wait to hear all about it—”
Something crashes in the background and I hear one of the babies begin to cry. The other joins in soon after.
“Shit,” she says.
“I’ll let you go and see you later,” I tell her.
“Thanks.”
We hang up and I refocus on my driving. Even after living here so many years before, I still tend to get lost in downtown Seattle, with GPS. In theory, the street layout is disjointed rectangles. But in reality, it can be confusing as hell. Especially with all the road construction that is constantly going on.
I arrive at the venue a minute or so late. They’ve arranged for valet parking for us, so I turn my car over to the attendant and step up to the entrance. The door opens for me from the inside.
A familiar mustached face smiles at me.
Great.
“Matthew,” I say.
“Ms. Seton, ma’am, you are looking lovely as always.”
“Tabatha.” I sigh.
“Right, right. Tabatha. Sorry about that.”
I wave a hand dismissively. I don’t want to continue the conversation, but I also don’t want him thinking it’s that big an issue.
“Where are the others?” I ask, looking around.
He shrugs. “Don’t know.”
