Zack gasps. “What was it, Mama?”
“Just something scary. Too scary for you.”
Mercer mutters something about needing river access from the lake to my house, and I can hear his tentacles slapping the ground. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“Can I still stay on the phone with Mercer?” Zack pleads.
I nod, sickened again to realize that if I don’t agree to the blackmail and Eli wins (by some catastrophic miracle), that Zack won’t just lose me, but he’ll lose Mercer, too.
Chapter Twelve: Mercer
Madelyn shows me her phone, and for once, I’m glad my precocious Zack cannot read yet.
“No court would condone this,” I whisper, cradling Zack on my chest.
“I know. But if you take something to court, there’s always the chance that it will happen. Could happen. His mother is rich. He knows some “lawyer bros.” “Finance bros” and “lawyer bros” go together. Even though Eli isn’t such a hotshot, not like he thinks,” Madelyn mutters, pacing. An orange popsicle is dripping down her hand, uneaten. I gently take it from her, steer her towards the sink, turn on the water, and push her hands underneath the stream.
“See? She’s too sick to eat her popsicle,” Zack whispers, horrified.
“She needs a rest. You and I are going to the store to do the grocery shopping. Where’s your list for the things you need for the party?” I ask because I know my Madelyn has made one. She spares no effort when it comes to Zack.
She doesn’t seem to hear me. “I need a different job. A better job. I took this job because it lets me work from home and take care of Zack, you know?”
“I know,” I say, trying to sound soothing, despite the rage burning inside me.
Madelyn is not in the least soothed, and who can blame her?
“If I worked a normal nine-to-five, then there would be childcare. There are trade-offs.” She is still pacing. “Child support is like 40% of our monthly income, and sure, we couldlive on less, but I just bought this house, and preschool isn’t cheap, and—”
“My love. We will sort out everything shortly. Let me get the shopping done and get Zack down for a nap. You should call your legal counsel, and maybe your parents? Maybe... Maybe the person who sent this text or the letter?” I hint.
“Maybe. I don’t know. What would I say? It’s like he’s calling my bluff—or seeing if I’ll call his. This isn’t a game!” Her voice rises to a scream, and then she sobs.
Zack makes a frightened whimper that pierces my heart. “Is Mommy going to be okay?”
“Yes. Yes, she’s going to be okay, and so are you,” I say firmly, gathering them both up. “Zack, I need a list of the snacks you want at the party. Can you draw me one? Use pictures and letters.”
“Mommy has a...” Zack looks at me, then decides not to mention that there’s already a list. Bright boy. “Okay,” he says softly, kissing Madelyn’s cheek before I set him down.
Madelyn wipes her eyes, whole body tense and angry. “I’m sorry,” she hisses.
“So am I. Sorry he is behaving like this. You need more income? To do what, specifically?”
“Preschool tuition, for one. I mean, I can take more hours on once he’s in preschool for a few mornings a week... The mortgage here is a little higher than the rent in our old place. And I’ll need a new car in a few years. Maybe. I can bike to most places.”
She’s pacing. Mumbling half to herself, half to me, the picture of stress and mental strain.
“Madelyn? My love?” I follow after her, slowly winding one tentacle around her at a time until I bring her to me, hugging her and caressing her worried face. “I know you are a fighter. I know you want the best for Zack. The best thing for him is you and the people who love him. No person who truly loves him would dothis. A person who loves him would want him to be happy and well cared for. I love... I love Zack. I want to pay for his school fees, if that’s what helps. I want to help however you need it.”
“I don’t need charity,” Madelyn says, blinking up at me with overflowing eyes. “I shouldn’t! I am an educated woman with earning power and—”
“And a person who loves her and her child very much already. I want to help because of who you are and what I would like to do with my life—not because you are some random charity case.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“Why?”
“Lots of reasons!”
