Page 10 of The Fear
"Yeah, we can. Did you eat all of your lunch today?"
"Yes, I did. Except the celery stick. Yuck. But only almost. I probably can’t eat tomorrow, though.” She had a worried look in her big brown eyes.
"What do you mean?"
"Mommy forgotted to put the money on my lunch bank again. But Mith Hanan helped me today. She's really, really nice."
"How did Ms. Hanan help you?"
"She gaved me real money so I could eat. Two whole paper dollars from her pocket. She gaved them to me before we got to the cafeteria so no one would know Mommy forgot me again, and then I gaved them to the lunch lady to buy my lunch instead. Mith Hanan said not to worry about it, that mommies sometimes forget things." Wynnie scrambled into the booster seat he kept in the trunk for when he needed it in his patrol unit. "Mith Hanan never forgets things, though. She always rememberseverything. She knew I’d want purple paint before I evenasked."
"Was this the first time Ms. Hanan helped you with lunch money?" Lunch money, not picked up on time… What else? Damn it, the kindergarten teacher must think both Wynnie’s parents were total losers or something. Everyone at the school probably did.
“No. She helped me before, too. Lots of times. Daddy, are you mad at Mith Hanan? You have your mad face on again." She just looked at him and waited. Sometimes, she was eighty-four years old, this kid.
"Not at you, kid. Or Ms. Hanan." Of course he wasn’t, she’d made sure his kid couldeat.While preserving Wynnie’s dignity. How could he be angry about that?
“At my mommy again? Mommy says you hate her. She says it all the time.”
“I do not hate your mother. Sometimes she makes decisions that I don’t understand. But she is your mom, and I respect that. I do not hate her.” Hell, yes, he did. Every time she did something to let down one of their kids that hate just grew. He was trying to not let it fester—for the kids’ sake. But damn, that was hard.
He swung by McDonald’s and grabbed two Happy Meals. Wynnie devoured hers in the car. He didn’t give her fast food often, but she and her brother loved it. He still hadn’t heard fromJessica. At one time he would have been more worried—but this was just like her. Hell, she was probably doing it on purpose. Just to screw with him.
The drive to Jessica's apartment complex was short. Her damned car was right there in its usual spot. Brenton pulled in and parked.
He knocked on the apartment door, Wynnie pressed against his side. And kept pounding. Finally, Jessica answered. Her hair was disheveled, and she was wearing old sweats, like she'd just gotten out of bed. At eight p.m. on a weeknight.
Brenton forced himself not to start snarling. Wynnie was right there, after all.
“Where’s BJ?” His kid should be here right now. He was onlythree.Hadn’t she been watching him?
“In his room playing, probably.”
“You don’t know? Do you even give a damn about our kids?” Brenton pushed his way in and headed down the hall to the bedroom his children shared when not with him. The tension around his gut lessened when he saw the familiar dark curly hair. BJ was sound asleep in the middle of his toys. Naked. His kid was stark naked and it was damned cold in the apartment. He grabbed a Scraggle-Popps blanket and tossed it over his son.
Hell, this place utterly stunk right now. How could she let their kids live like this?
It was rank.
She grabbed her phone. “Oh. I missed the calls and texts. Well, you picked her up. All good.”
"Someone had to. School had been calling you for ninety damned minutes."
"I had a fucking headache.”
"Let me guess. Your phone wasn't working either?" Excuses, it was always excuses.
"It was in the other room. I was sleeping. Thanks for getting her. Now, get out."
The apartment smelled like stale alcohol and something else he didn't want to identify. Hell, how did Jessica live like this? Was that mold on the dishes in the sink? Had someone dumped a damned trashcan on the kitchen table?
It sickened him that his kids had to live like this.
"Mommy, Daddy bought me McDonald's because I was really, really hungry. We got one for BJ, too. With a little kid toy so he can’t choked on it again. Like last time.”
"That's nice, baby. Why don't you go get ready for bed?"
She barely even looked at their daughter. She hadn’t seen Wynnie all day and was all ready to send her to bed. No hugs, no questions, just ‘go to bed’.
