Page 14 of Stuck With You
It’s a rarity for people not to stare or ask if my eyes are real, as if I have fake eyeballs. I used to wear contacts to even out the color, but not anymore.
“Well, that’s one small tick in his favor. Is he attractive? Why do all guys who act like complete dicks usually have to be good-looking? There must be some genetic code that combines handsomeness with a depressed social IQ.”
“Can broody and bitter be attractive?” I will never say it, but the grouchy Neanderthal was amazingly handsome underneath all that gloom. Deep green eyes that seemed to infer far more than I wanted him to, and hair that curled out from underneath his cap just long enough to twist around a finger. He should wear a warning that reads prickly with a sour mood and may roar.
I smile, thinking about it.
Roxie snorts. “Do pretty assholes shit?”
“Rox!” I laugh, holding my stomach and missing her so much.
I close the dishwasher and start it.
“Have you heard anything from Miles?” Her question is soft, as if she knows to tread lightly.
“No. He called today, but I couldn’t answer. Cory was in my office.”
“Of course that scrawny little snitch was. Let me guess. Miles hasn’t called back.”
When I don’t confirm it, I hear a long string of curses under her breath.
“You need to take his ass to court and invite every news outlet in the country.”
I lean against the counter, knowing even if I could afford it, I’d worry about dragging Ollie and Frankie into that kind of public mess again.
Dealing with Miles is like walking a tightrope. It’s a balancing act of carefully requesting that he follow the court order without triggering him and causing him to lash out or retaliate when I don’t meet his demands. It’s allowing him to believe he’s still in control, while convincing him to do the right thing.
It’s exhausting and self-loathing to let someone have that kind of power over you, but right now, it’s all I can do. No matter how badlyI wish I didn’t, I need him to pay up without destroying me in the process.
Our divorce was quickly finalized when I agreed to shared custody with monthly child support, which my lawyer advised was the best-case scenario given my circumstances. A year later, he hasn’t once asked to see the kids, and I haven’t seen a dime. Payment would require submitting to his absurd requests, which would involve me resorting to being his emotional crutch or verbal punching bag.
I wish I could take him to court and demand he pay up or alert the world that he’s too busy attempting to manipulate me to help his children. But I learned the hard way that this man doesn’t play nice or fair, and I can’t risk going down that road again. Not when I’m trying my damnedest to start over and build some kind of life for the kids and me.
I let Grover in the back door and lock it, then head into the living room and sit on the floor. Ollie is playing with his airplane while Frankie gnaws on the head of one of the Little People. She drops it and crawls into my lap.
“You want me to pay him a visit?” Rox asks, and I know she’s contemplating it.
“Nah. I know you’d do just fine behind steel bars, but I love you too much to see that happen. I need you to stay on the outside. We’ll just have to get used to the bus for a little while.”
Ollie’s head pops up, and I smile. “What do you think, Ol? Should we see what the big, blue buses are like?”
He nods, a slight smile appearing.
“Ugh. Sarah. I hate this for you. I mean, I’m so glad you’re there and not here, but. . .I wish I could be there to help.”
“I know. Me too. Come see us soon. Ok?”
“For sure.”
“I gotta get these little stinks in the bath so I have a little time to study.”
“Ok. I have to get to work. I told Micah I’d take his shift tonight.”
Roxie manages the pub that serves as the local hangout despite her parents’ distinct objections. Sometimes I think she only continues to work there just to piss them off.
“Make sure you’re sleeping,” Roxie commands.
“You be safe. And no punching people.”
