“Well, not exactly. I ended up going out to dinner with Jesse.”
“Jesse? As in hot contractor Jesse?”
Yup. The one whose name begs to be moaned, I think to myself, remembering Pooja’s assessment. I’m starting to agree with her more and more.
“The very same.”
“No shit. How deliciously unprofessional. Did he nail you? That was a carpentry joke, in case you missed it.”
“No, he did not ‘nail’ me. We just had a casual dinner. Although it turns out that we knew each other as kids, back when I used to spend summers here. How weird is that? In any case, it doesn’t matter. I need you to stay focused on Rocky.”
“Um, okay. We will be circling back to yourThe Notebookorigin story. But proceed for now.”
“So Rocky shows up. And he spent the night. On the couch,” I add quickly when I hear her sharp inhale. “And this morning he announced that he wants to take the kids to Cabo for two weeks. On the family vacation thatIplanned.”
She lets out a low whistle. “It is impressive how this man consistently manages to out-douche himself. Those tight jeans must cut off the oxygen to his brain.”
I sigh. “What am I going to do? I felt pressured to say yes in the moment, but now I need a way to get out of it. There’s no way I’m going to let him take the kids on a trip for two whole weeks.”
Saying the words out loud makes my stomach clench. I’ve never been apart from my children for that long. I hate the mere thought of it.
“Why not?” Pooja asks gently. “I’m serious. When was the last time you spent more than a weekend away from the kids? You deserve a little time to yourself. He’s their father too, you know. He can watch his own kids for once.”
Pooja has a point, and it reminds me that I said the same words last night. One thing Rocky and I never fought about was splitting time with the kids. I got the house and primary custody. We’ve worked around Rocky’s schedule for visitation, but they’ve never spent more than a weekend at a time with him. There’s never been a set routine for visits, no matter how many times I told him Levi needs one. Rocky’s always preferred to have more of a Peter Pan type of relationship with the kids. Show up unannounced, sow chaos in the name of fun, and then disappear off into the night. This is the first time he’s ever offered to take the kids for a long period of time. And it’s making me suspicious. Does he have an ulterior motive? Is this just an opportunity for him to use the kids to play happy family with Rayna?
There’s a pause on the other end of the line. “You’re worried Rocky’s going to use them as human props, huh?” As usual, Pooja is reading my mind.
“Yup,” I say, popping the last letter.
“Listen,” she says. “Divorce sucks. But the singular benefit is that occasionally, you get some time off from parenting. And as much as you rightfully hate the guy, I know you also want the kids to have a relationship with him. So, give him the opportunity. Let Rocky take the kids and experience what you’ve been doing for the past nine years. I guarantee you it’s going to be the rude awakening he needs.”
I blow out a sigh. “Maybe you’re right.”
“I’ll even come spend a few days with you,” she adds. “We’ll ditch our bras, eat junk food, and binge-watch reality TV. It’ll be just like old times.”
I must admit, that does sound nice. Pooja and I haven’t had much solo time together since my kids were born. To be honest, I haven’t done much for myself at all since they were born. I always swore Iwouldn’t be one of those mothers who completely loses her identity when she has kids. But it’s a lot easier said than done, especially when you have little people relying on you. Sometimes literally justlyingon you. Personal space is a concept they’ve yet to master.
Pooja is right—I deserve some me time.
“How soon can you get your butt out here?” I ask.
17MARISSA
I know I need some time to myself. Heck, I was even starting to look forward to my kids leaving on this trip. But a week later, when I return to the house after dropping them off with Rocky at the airport, I’m a mess. I cried for the entirety of the drive back to the house and now I just feel like an empty husk, the sadness weighing me down like I’m carrying a backpack full of rocks.
They don’t tell you it’s going to be this way, that you’ll feel like you’ve lost an appendage the moment you’re separated from your children. I try to replay Pooja’s words, remind myself that having some me time is a good thing. True to form, she’s even sent me half a dozen scripts to read during my “Mommy recess.” But I can’t begin to concentrate on anything.
When I walk through the front door, I nod to the Legacy team and then head upstairs to my room, where I curl up in bed and proceed to fall into a dreamless sleep.
Several hours pass before I emerge, dry-mouthed and in desperate need of a cool glass of water. When I descend the staircase, the sun is sitting lower in the sky, casting long, golden shadows across the newly finished living room floor. There’s a low hum emanating from a pair of box fans.
With the kids out of the house, the team has taken over the kitchen. Each is busy with their own task: Toby is squatting on the floor, painting the bench that he’s installing as part of a new breakfast nook. Shelby is taking measurements, likely debating how she’s going to position the accompanying round table she picked out. And Jesse is standing on the kitchen island, installing our new pendant light fixtures. His shirt rises as he reaches over his head, just barely revealing the taut muscles beneath. A tantalizing trail of short, soft-looking hair disappears into the waistband of his jeans. My mouth turns even drier.
Water. I need water.
I take another step down and the staircase groans. At the sound of it, Jesse’s head snaps down, his eyes locking on me.
“Hey,” he says.
