Page 26 of 7+Us Makes Nine

“Keep an eye on your sister. Be a big boy for me, okay? Just for a few minutes,” I said.

“Dad, what’s going on?” Dmitri asked.

“Nothing. We just have a visitor I didn’t expect. You guys go get cleaned up for lunch. Go. Now.”

I close

d the French doors and watched my children backtrack down the hallway. Then I turned around and came face-to-face with my ex-wife. Her teeth were yellowed out and her eyes looked unfocused. Glossy. And very bloodshot.

“You’re high,” I said.

“I want to see my kids,” Anya said.

“The agreement was that you could see them whenever you wanted when you got sober,” I said.

“I am sober.”

“You’re high right now.”

“No I’m not. I’m just on some pain medication because I hurt my back a few days ago.”

“You walked out of rehab after only two weeks. It was a two-month program, Anya.”

“You can’t keep my children away from me.”

“I’m not doing it. The court is. You are, by not obeying the one rule set forth for you,” I said.

“You better let me see my children. Or I’ll walk in there myself and see them. They’re my kids too, Jace. You had no right to take them from me!”

“Okay. That’s enough. We won’t be doing this here.”

“What are you doing? Let me go, Jace. Get your hands off me.”

I placed my hand on the small of her back and used my other hand to grab onto her elbow. I escorted her around the property, heading back to her car. How she drove it here was beyond me, and I figured if she drove it to my house she could get herself back. She tried fighting against me, but she was weak. I could barely feel the fight she was putting up even though sweat was glistening on her brow. She dug her heels into the grass and tried to push against me. She even tried throwing her damn head back into my nose.

It was easy to dodge though. Her movements were incredibly slow.

“Let me go, Jace. Get off me!”

“Get in your car and get out of here,” I said.

“Not until I see my children. It’s been almost two years. You can’t keep me from them any longer,” Anya said.

“I can, and I will. They don’t need to see you like this. You’re high. You’re a wreck. You’re so thin I can see the outline of the bones of your sternum, Anya. Are you even eating?”

“The fuck do you care for?”

“Because I was married to you once. Because you’re the mother of my children. Because I want you to get better so you can be a part of their lives,” I said.

“Then let me see them. I’m better than I used to be.”

“Is that what you call what you look like right now? Because I’d take the beginning stages of this fight over what I’m currently having to deal with.”

“That why you left?” she asked. “Because you were done ‘dealing with me’.”

“No. I left with the kids because I was tired of you coming into the house high as a kite with no regard for how it made your family feel. I gave up everything in my life so I could be a stationary parent while you jetted around the world, and every other night I was getting calls about you being passed out at someone else’s house. Or in an alleyway. Or showing up high to your movie sets.”

“Get out of my way.”

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