Page 27 of Afternoon Delight
Meg
We could all use a break. That’s what Joel said when I told him Roddie wanted to stay with me until further notice.
I actively tried not to hate Joel. He was the father of my children; they wouldn’t exist without him. As much as I wanted to blame him entirely for our divorce, I couldn’t. Yes, he cheated. More than once. But I wasn’t perfect either. I could be uptight as hell. I ran our checking account like I was collecting for the mob. In the last years of our marriage, I was always working, carting the kids around, or in Victoria. I knew we were drifting apart, and I did nothing to stop it. Looking back, I think I wanted to be apart, I just didn’t have the balls to end it until he gave me the excuse.
So no, I didn’t hate him. But I hated his selfish streak. I really wished it wasn’t so freaking wide.
I swear, when I told him Roddie wanted to stay here with me at Mom’s, Joel wanted to ask if he could come stay here too.
I got it. Newborns are brutal. I respected Wanda for calling Joel out on leaving all the baby care to her. I hadn’t done that. I was the child of a doctor, raised to believe it was my job to defer to Dr. Joel’s higher needs—as a freaking dentist—even when I was so sleep-deprived by a colicky baby I was afraid to walk them for fear I’d drop them.
I’d trained Joel to expect me to run triage with the kids and only loop him in once the crisis had passed—when he had time to absorb and process it.
But could he not go through the motions of fighting for his son? For Roddie’s sake? Did he have to be such a numb-brained prick all the time?
As I came back to the kitchen, where Mom was microwaving leftovers, Roddie lifted his attention from his phone and frowned with concern.
“Is he mad?”
“He understands.” I let go of my anger. This was what I wanted. From the moment I packed my bags, I told Roddie he could live with me. It might not be ideal to have him here while I ran Afternoon Delight, but I’d make it work.
“Thanks, Grandma,” he said as Mom set a plate in front of him, piled with store-bought chicken fettuccine from earlier.
“Want milk? Or one of those green things your mother takes to work?”
“Water’s fine, thanks.” He scooped up some noodles. “I asked Grandma what you're doing for your friend. She said to ask you.”
“Did she?”
Mom shot me a buttoned-lip look as she poured from the tap.
“Right. So.” I sat across from Roddie and grabbed the edge of that metaphorical bandage. “I’ve got something to tell you.”
“Oh, shit.” He dropped his fork with a clatter.
“What?” I flashed back to telling him about the divorce. “No, it’s fine. I just quit my accounting job.”
“Why? Does Shelby know? Is that why you came here? Are you staying?”
“No. And no. I’ll tell her in a few days.” When I worked up the nerve. “It’s not a secret.” I glanced at Mom as she set down Roddie’s glass of water. “I’m helping Georgia at her shop. She needs surgery.”
“Oh. ’Kay.” He looked at both of us, waiting for the other shoe.
“She needs someone to run it until she’s back. It’s temporary, and it gives me space to figure out what’s next.”
“Okay.” He was still frowning, but losing interest now that he knew it didn’t directly affect him. He tapped a notification on his phone and asked absently, “What kind of store is it?”
“Adult toys,” I mumbled and quickly added, “We’re relaunching tomorrow. I’ll be out all day and probably working late. It won’t always be like that. Mom, did you ever find that key hook thingy?”
“It’s by the front door.” She pointed.
“Wait.” Roddie had, for once, forgotten he was holding his phone. “Like vibrators and stuff?”
“Yes,” I said with breezy casualness, as if it was totally normal. Because it was. “Afternoon Delight is a sexual health store that serves the needs of a diverse customer base. Grandma’s been helping me there.”
Yes, that was the Downtown Express I pushed my mother under. With both hands.
“I’m assisting with merchandising,” Mom said stiffly, yanking open the top door of the refrigerator to pull out the ice cream. “Providing themed decorations. That’s all.”
