Page 93 of The One I Want
“Yes. All accounted for. Except the big one that’s just got the bow on it.”
“And that’s in the garage, ready to be rolled in,” Wes says. “Did you get the cake?”
“Picked it up this morning. What about the food?”
Wes dangles his keys. “Porter should be finishing it up now. What twelve-year-old requests bar food for her birthday?”
“The one who has life figured out.”
I take a few steps toward him, lifting my chin for a quick kiss, which of course he gives me. “Can you also pick up a few extra bags of ice while you’re out?”
“Why do people always stock up on ice?” he asks. “We have an ice maker for a reason.”
“You can never have too much,” I say. “Can you just get it?”
He leans against the counter, trying to distract me with his sexiness. I won’t tell him that it’s working. “So this is what it’s going to be like, huh?”
“This is nothing,” I say, giving him a pat on the chest. “Just wait until our first Halloween party.”
Wes gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Just make sure you wear that costume from last year. I’m a big fan.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say. “Now go. Be back within an hour.”
Wes waves and shuts the door behind him, leaving me to get the kids ready for Emerson’s family birthday party. Yesterday was her friend party and her actual birthday. She chose an escape room, an arcade, and then a sleepover. Wes insisted he could handle it by himself, and that I should stay home with Magnolia and Hank.
I got a call an hour into the day that he needed reinforcements.
He fell asleep before the girls did last night. They were five seconds away from drawing on his face with a Sharpie. I have no idea where they would have gotten the idea…
Because of the late night, the kids all took a nap today before the family, or as Emerson is calling it, the adult party. She chose food from The Joint, a vanilla cake for today because she had a chocolate one yesterday, and a day full of board games.
Sounds like the perfect birthday weekend to me.
I look around the kitchen, making sure everything is set up before I head upstairs to get changed. No, I’m not living here. I just have my cosmetics, my toiletries, most of my clothes, and half of my shoes here. Though now that I think about it, I don’t think the Taylors cashed my rent check last month. I’ll have to ask Peggy about that. Though I have a feeling I know what her answer is going to be.
I laugh to myself as I walk down the hallway to Wes’s bedroom. It’s only then I hear sobs coming from one of the bedrooms. I peek into Magnolia’s room, but she’s out like a light. Hank’s door is open across the hall, and he’s so far gone half of his legs are dangling off the side of the bed.
I take a few more steps and put my ear against Emerson’s door. And then, clear as day, all I hear is the unmistakable sound of an ugly cry.
I should know; I’ve had many in my life.
I tap on the door, but she doesn’t answer. I tap again and open it a little farther, because the cries are only getting louder.
“Em?” I ask, taking a step in. “Sweetheart, what’s the matter?”
She doesn’t answer, but does roll over, now burying her head in a pillow.
“Whatever it is, we can work through it,” I say, taking a seat at the foot of her bed.
She shakes her head, but turns it enough so I can hear her. “She didn’t call.”
“Who didn’t call?
She slams her pillow down, her face red and blotched. “Yesterday was my birthday, and she didn’t call.”
I’m gripping on to Emerson’s bedspread because she hasn’t said who, but I know. And I’m about to lose my shit on this woman. I wonder how long it would take me to fly to California, find that bitch, key her car, rip out her hair extensions, and overall ruin her life. Could I be back before the party starts?
“I am so sorry, Em,” I say as I inch closer to her, which just makes her fling herself over to not face me. “I wish I had a better answer.”
