“It’s always great to be together,” Rocky concedes. “I’ve missed you guys over the last few weeks. How’s the summer been? How are you liking camp?”
Isla shrugs half-heartedly. “Fine, I guess. I mean, the kids are cool but it’s not exactly Cabo.”
I groan internally. I suppose this is what I get for raising kids in Los Angeles. The problem with it is, even if you don’t spoil your kids, other parents spoil theirs. LA kids grow up knowing too much about what there is to want in the world.
“About Cabo,” Rocky hedges. He lifts his eyes to me and my stomach drops.Shit. Where is this going?
“I couldn’t get the deposit back for our original vacation, but I was able to modify the itinerary to just two weeks instead of four. Rayna and I are planning to go, and I was thinking… maybe the kids would like to come with us?”
Isla drops her fork, the crash of metal echoing against her plate as she squeals.
“Oh my god,yes! Daddy, I love you so much!” She leaps from her chair, throwing her arms around his neck. My heart plummets.
“Well, hang on,” Rocky says, gently peeling her off. “We have tomake sure it’s okay with your mom first.” He redirects his attention to me and raises his eyebrows, delivering a pointed look that says,If you disappoint our child, it’s all on you.
This asshole. How dare he put me in this position, ask me—no, basicallytellme—in front of them, force me to once again be the bad guy, the only thing standing between my kids and a good time.
Both Rocky and Isla are staring at me expectantly, waiting for me to respond, but I’m so angry that I can’t manage a single word. Rage funnels in my chest, and I force myself to blink back the hot, angry tears that are prickling the backs of my eyes.
It’s not just that he’s forcing me into an unfair position. It’s that he’s once again disregarding how much work I’ve put into planning (and replanning) this summer. I’ve already paid for summer camps, scheduled therapies, organized weekend outings. Not only does he fail to recognize everything I do for the kids, but he just comes in unannounced and torpedoes it without a second thought. This is how it has always been between us. He has never appreciated me or anything that I do, and it’s one of the reasons I couldn’t stay married to him.
Isla’s eyes are round with hope and something else: desperation. Anger gives way to a twinge of guilt. I’ve already disrupted her summer plans, dragged her away from her friends. Am I really going to deny her this too? Will she ever forgive me if I do?
“Two weeks?” I ask weakly. Rocky’s handsome features flood with smug relief. He’s won this round, and we both know it.
“Two weeks,” he confirms. He wets his lips and delivers the next bit in a less convincing tone.
“And you’re more than welcome to come too, if you want.”
If I want.I’d rather get dental surgery without anesthesia.
“There will be stipulations,” I say, glossing over his half-assed invitation to tag along. “We’ll need to go over Levi’s schedule, review which routines make him most comfortable.”
Rocky nods rapidly, but I can tell I’ve already lost his attention. “Yes, yes, of course. We can talk about all that later.” He turns his attention to Levi.
“Buddy, are you excited? We’re going to the beach!”
Instead of replying, Levi looks to me, uncertainty clouding his eyes. No doubt he’s remembering last year’s trip to Laguna Beach. I had to carry him to and from the shore because he hated the texture of the sand. Moreover, I’ve already told him that the Cabo trip was canceled. Hearing it’s back on the table is causing confusion, which will inevitably lead to anxiety. It’s going to take some more preparation for sure, but I don’t see any way I can back out now.
I offer the table a weak smile. “Let’s eat breakfast. Then we can discuss the details.”
I manage to get Rocky out of the house shortly before lunch, but by the time I get the kids down that night, I’m completely depleted. He’s always had that effect on me. He’s like a proton pack in human form, busting in and sucking the spirit right out of my body.
The warmth of the day has faded by nightfall, and there’s a light breeze in the air, rustling the leaves outside my window. The perfect conditions for a bath. I serve myself a healthy pour of red wine as I draw it, mixing my favorite melatonin bubble bath into the water. Then I snuggle into the warmth of the bubbles, and call Pooja. She answers on the first ring.
“Good day, PA,” she says brightly. “How’s it going?”
“Not good,” I mutter, as I put the call on speaker and lay the phone on the edge of the tub. “Guess who showed up on my doorstep last night?”
“Judging by the displeasure in your voice, I’m assuming it wasn’t anyone with cake.”
“You assume correctly,” I say. “It was Rocky.”
“No! He just showed up without calling?”
“Is there any other way?” I take a long swig of wine. “Marched through the front door and announced that he wanted to take the kids out for dinner.”
She groans. “Of course he did. And then you were stuck home alone on a Friday night.”
