The universe had really showed me how wrong I could be, right?
The second week of kindergarten drop-offs was much, much worse than the first one, and by Wednesday I was entertaining fantasies of homeschooling Gracie. I mean, I knew I could never do it, but I would have loved to never have to take her to school again. Mr. Smith was pretending like it had never happened, and I wished I could too, but the guy had shoved dollar bills in my G-string. That wasn’t the sort of thing I could forget.
On Friday I shouldn’t have been late picking Gracie up since we finished early at a job over in Brodnax, but there was a crash on the highway coming back, and traffic was at a standstill until it cleared.
“Fuck sake,” I said, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel.
Uncle Steve, who was riding shotgun with me today, hummedand scrolled his phone. “There’s a guy over in Park View selling a pony.”
“The fuck do you want a pony for?” I asked, craning my head to see if that motherfucking tow truck was doing anything yet.
“Gracie’d love a pony.”
“I’m not getting her a pony,” I said. “That’s fu-flipping crazy. You can’t keep a pony in a backyard. Besides, what do they even eat?”
“Oats? Hay?” He shrugged and then stretched. “How’s she doing at school?”
I groaned. “She loves it. She’s smart as hell. But now I’m gonna be late again, and that teacher of hers is going to be all up my ass about it. Except politely. He’s all, ‘You might have to make alternate arrangements, Mr. Wilder.’ But I can tell what he really wants to say is ‘You’re an asshole and I hope you die in a ditch.’”
Steve hummed again. “Pretty sure he doesn’t want you to die in a ditch just because you’ve been late once or twice.”
It had been more than once or twice, but I wasn’t telling Steve that. He was already cutting me so much slack right now, and I didn’t want him to think I didn’t appreciate it.
He spoke again. “Can you call the school, or get her grandparents to pick her up?”
I shuddered at the thought. “No way. They pick her up once and next thing you know it’ll be ‘if you’re not coping, maybe it’s best if she lives with us,’ and fuck that noise. I’ll see if Danny can go get her. I think he’s home.”
I fired off a quick text.
Hey can you collect Gracie for me?
It took a minute for his reply to come through, and I tapped my fingers impatiently against the steering wheel while I waited.
Sure thing. You okay?
Traffic accident on the highway. I owe you.
Then I texted again.
She’ll need a snack when she gets home.
I tossed my phone into the center console and Steve glanced over. “You good?”
“Yeah. Danny’s picking her up.”
The car in front of me crept forward six inches and for a second it looked like we were moving, but then we came to an abrupt halt, and it turned out it was just the driver being an impatient asshole. Still, at least I didn’t have to worry about Gracie getting picked up. Not unless Mr. Smith refused to hand her over or something.
Shit.
New fear unlocked.
I debated calling the school to confirm Danny was on their list, even though I knew he was, but before I got a chance, traffic started crawling along at a snail’s pace. By the time we’d made it through the snarl of cars and tow trucks and I’d dropped Uncle Steve at his place, an hour had passed. When I got home, Gracie was sitting on the couch with Danny, watching a movie. There was a bowl of chips balanced between them.
“Hey, sweet pea.”
“Daddy!” Gracie bounced off the couch, sending the bowl flying, and I winced internally. I’d have to make sure to get all the crumbs out of the couch before I used it as a bed tonight. “I did coloring today!”
She darted off to her room, presumably to get her coloring to show me.
