Betad by kitchmill. Mistakes are my own.
Preread by Hoodie.
7
"So, there was no note? Just a name and number?" Angela asked, looking away from me and over at Alice who was sitting on the bleachers on the other side of her.
The kids' after-school practice was nearly over. We'd almost made it all the way through without discussing my love life, but then Alice had to go and open her big mouth.
"What are you asking me for?" Alice asked.
Angela shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just trying to understand."
"It's not like it matters anyway. It's not like I'm going to call."
"What, why?" Alice demanded to know.
"Because it's crazy! This was supposed to be a one-time thing and it didn't even happen. Then I had to go and leave my license behind and now I'm probably going to have to move."
"Oh, don't be so dramatic." Alice waved off my concern.
"I mean it. If Emmett catches wind of this I'll never hear the end of it."
"Fuck Emmett. You have the upper hand. You always have. You've got nothing to worry about except for your vagina closing up."
"Oh, Alice, please." Angela looked to the heavens then closed her eyes, silently asking God to forgive the vulgarity spewing forth from her friend's mouth.
"But don't you see? That's exactly what I'm worried about."
"Your vagina? Me, too."
"No, Alice. Forget about my vagina for a minute, would you?"
"I wish I could."
"Can we please stop talking about genitalia in general?" Angela whispered, as if it were a mortal sin to say the word out loud.
"What I'm worried about is giving Emmett any amount of leverage. What if this guy is bad news? What if he causes too much of a distraction? What if my selfish actions negatively impact Brady and then there's grounds for Emmett to claim I'm an unfit parent?"
"As long as you live you could never be considered unfit."
Angela nodded in agreement with Alice. "It's true. You've always been a wonderful mother. And friend. So much so, I'd be willing to write a character reference to the court. You're a good woman, Bella. And you deserve the love of a good man. You owe it to yourself to find out if this Maxwell—"
"Masen," Alice and I corrected her in unison.
"Right. This Masen just might be a good guy. A lot of those bikers look rough around the edges but are as sweet as pie. They do an awful lot for charity. And you never know, he could be the one. Don't you want to find out?"
"I don't know." My voice lowered as I turned my attention back to where Brady was running plays on the field.
"Well, even though I don't condone how it all started, I think maybe you should pursue it. You're just unsure because you haven't experienced the real love of a good man yet. But, honey, it's out there. And it's wonderful. You just have to be open to it." Angela patted my hand.
I didn't feel reassured, fearing I may be too old and bitter to be open to anything new and good. Wasn't sure how much I had to give after years of being both physically and emotionally drained by the opposite sex. AKA Emmett McCarty.
"And if he's not the one, he can at least bang some fun and excitement back into your life." Leave it to Alice to supply perspective.
Angela rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disapproval, but not necessarily disagreeing.
Once the end of practice huddle broke, we happily parted ways to herd our kids to our cars. I gave in to Brady's request for McDonald's pretty easily given how tired I'd been lately. His smile made me feel like Mom of the Year for a minute.
After we ingested a year's worth of sodium and Brady had a shower, I helped him with his homework then it was off to bed for both of us.
No matter how long I lay there and tried, I couldn't get my brain to turn off. Come two in the morning I was freaking out knowing I had to be at work at seven. And the next day and the next.
I hated when I worked a cluster of twelve-hour shifts in a row. Not only did it make me hella tired, it left me feeling absent as a mother.
Thank God Mike was kind and lived close enough to take Brady to school on those days. He also picked him up and kept him at his place until I got home. Maybe if he would let me pay him or I finally gave in and went on a date with the guy I'd feel a little less guilty.
Oh, who was I kidding? Harboring guilt was the one thing I was exceptionally great at.
All these thoughts were making me feel guilty for not being attracted to Mike after all he'd done for my son and me. He was always helping me out and expecting nothing in return. His demeanor was always so generous and warm, albeit sometimes creepy. He treated Brady like he was his own son. But most importantly, Brady genuinely liked him. Probably liked being over there more than he did here. I couldn't blame him. I had been in Mike's house. It was filled to the brim with junk food and gaming systems.
The next thing I knew I'd thought myself to sleep and was waking up to the blare of my alarm clock. I shot straight up in bed, turned it off along with my feelings, then headed into the bathroom to start getting ready for the day.
In all honesty, the hardest part of our morning routine was getting Brady moving. He had always been a good sleeper. When he was a baby it was a blessing. These days, it was a hindrance.
An hour later I'd dropped Brady at Mike's and was heading into work at the hospital, praying for a quick, easy day.
No dice.
Bells and whistles greeted me when I walked onto the unit. Half the patients were considered high acuity, the other half simply needy, and we were down a nurse.
Meds were missing from damn near every one of my patients' bins. Not only did I have to wait for them to be restocked, the clock moved at a dead snail's pace. I was in desperate need of coffee, ready to claw my face off when I'd done a whole day's work, then realized it was only nine in the morning. Ten more hours to go.
The rest of the day was just as shitty. Literally and figuratively. Wiping all those asses had wiped me out by the time I clocked out. I was seriously considering calling off the next couple of days. I was so sick of my job. I was so sick of being responsible. I was so sick of working so much and missing out on so much, especially time with my kid.
I was losing him. I could feel it in my heart. I could see it in his demeanor and hear it in his tone. His attitude was growing worse and worse every single day.
The fact I couldn't pass as mother and father was another thing that ate away at me. There was nothing I could do about Emmett's behavior. There was nothing I could say to make him see and understand how his actions—or lack thereof—were affecting his kid. Brady needed a full-time father. Not a friend he sometimes hung out with on the weekends. He had plenty of those.
Why couldn't Emmett just grow up? Why couldn't he act like the man he should want his kid to grow up to be? Why couldn't he at least pretend to give a shit and not fuck us all up mentally and emotionally?
Anger flared in my chest, the flames fanned by my runaway train of thought. I squeezed the steering wheel, imagining it was my ex's neck. I wanted to kill him and possibly could have in that moment. I was so mad.
Loosening my grip on the wheel, I blew out a cleansing breath. In the nose, out the mouth. Counted to ten, to twenty. Tried it backward. Usually that helped.
It didn't.
I still felt murderous until I heard the whoop of a siren. Then I just felt sick. I didn't have to glance in my rearview mirror to see the flashing red and blue lights behind me.
Slowing to a roll, I pulled over to the shoulder and cut the engine, relaxing back against the headrest.
This was all I needed right now.
The officer took his sweet time looking up my plates and checking to make sure my tags were up to date.
As long as they were making me wait, they had just better take one look at my scrubs and send me on my way with nothing more than a warning.
This was bullshit.
My eyes had almost closed completely when there was a knock on my door, startling them open.
Rolling down the window, I worked up the best apologetic smile I could muster.
"Do you know why I pulled you over?" the older officer asked.
I found myself wanting to make a joke about the movie Minority Report and ask if he'd predicted I was planning to kill my idiotic ex. Instead, I chuckled to myself, which didn't help the situation.
"Is something funny?"
I shook my head. "No, officer." Quite the opposite actually. "I'm just sleep-deprived is all." Was I allowed to say that to a cop? Was it illegal to drive overworked and tired? "That and my ex is a useless lump. Not to mention I'm catastrophically failing as a mother," I said, more to myself than anyone.
I huffed a humorous laugh as tears welled up in my eyes. I had no idea where that came from but there was more on the way.
"Oh, and I almost slept with a man I barely know the other night," I confessed unnecessarily.
Wow. I was on a roll. I was definitely calling off tomorrow.
"That's not what I do, ya know? That's not who I am. I'm the responsible one. It's my responsibility to be responsible, ya know?"
"Ma'am ..." The cop bent at the waist to take a better look at me. "Have you been drinking?"
I scoffed. "I wish. I just got off work."
"And where is that?"
"The hospital."
"You a nurse?"
I nodded, wiping the tears from my eyes.
"Work twelve-hour shifts?"
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry. I'm afraid I didn't get much sleep last night."
He gave me a tight smile that said I hear that. "My wife was a nurse. Rough hours. It takes a special kind of person to do that kind of work."
I didn't feel very special.
"I know I don't know you, but if I had to take a gander, I'd say you're a fine mother and just as fine a person, uh … no matter the circumstances." Like acting like a ho? "The fact you're so worried about it is a sign of that. Speaking of signs, can you tell me what the speed limit is on this road?"
"Fifty-five."
"Mmhm. And do you know just how fast you were going when I pulled you over?"
I remained silent.
"Seventy miles per hour."
No way. Not possible. I refused to believe it.
"I tell you what, you stop being so hard on yourself and that gas pedal and I'll let you off with a warning. How does that sound?"
"Very fair. Thank you, sir."
He nodded. "Just see that it doesn't happen again." Tipping his hat, he went on his way.
A little shaky from the depleting adrenaline, I sat there a few moments before pulling back out onto the road.
Somehow, I was still on time picking up Brady from Mike's. As per usual Mike made sure he'd had dinner, finished all his homework, and was ready to go once I got there. I could have kissed him. But I didn't since that would be sending mixed signals. And like I had previously decided, I definitely wasn't attracted to Mike. But how much easier my life would be if I were.
I ended up not calling off. By the end of my third day, Brady and my feet were dragging on the way up to the house. I grabbed the mail on the way in, heading for the kitchen while Brady struggled to make it up the stairs and get ready for bed.
As I was sorting through the bills, a loose piece of paper slipped from between the envelopes and fluttered to the floor.
Picking it up, the first thing I noticed was Masen's handwriting. The second, an address. And the third, a date and time to meet.
