“Cool.”
I hang up the phone and turn to face the boys.
“Who wants to have a sleepover at Auntie Jo’s house?”
“Meeee!” they squeal in unison.
We pull up thirty minutes later. I unload the one bag we have, which I’m so thankful I already packed.
Jo meets us in the parking garage, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. She has no makeup on and lookslike she’s been having a chill, lazy day, which makes me instantly feel guilty.
“Sorry, did we crash your Friday?”
She shakes her head. “No way. I’m glad y’all came over. You boys want some pizza?”
“Pizzaaa!”
They start running around in circles, blissfully unaware of why we’re here—to stay the night even though we don’t have beds to sleep in.
We follow her through the maze of the gray apartment building. The halls are all outside, with black railing overlooking the landscaping and the pool below.
“Mommy, we swim?” Dawson asks, pointing at the pool.
“Not right now, buddy. Maybe another day.”
We make it to her apartment, and she uses her key fob to open the door. I’m eternally grateful that my husband has never been here because getting through this maze would be impossible for someone who’s never been guided through.
The interior of Jo’s apartment smells like a mix of pizza and an apple pie candle. Her gray cat immediately jumps up on the counter, curious about the newcomers. Her dog is a mini black-and-brown Aussie, wagging her tail happily at the boys. The apartment has a modern, upgraded decor style with sleek black countertops and white hexagon-tiled flooring.
Her new roommate is lounging on the sofa, her curly blond hair up in a messy bun. She smiles at me and waves. “Hey, I’m Len. Nice to meet you.”
“Dallas. This is Dawson and Dutton. Sorry to crash your chill weekend.”
She shrugs. “You’re not bothering me. Pizza? It’s cold, but we could microwave it.”
The boys run up to her, and she offers them each a slice.
“Y’all come sit at the table.”
They each carefully carry the food over to the small breakfast nook table and sit.
Hours later, I’m lying on the pallet we made on the floor in the living room. Down here on the ground, it smells faintly like dog hair. But I don’t care.
All I can think about is how I’ll never in my life sleep under the same roof as my monster of a husband ever again.
25
DUKE
PRESENT DAY
Ipark a few blocks away from the house. I crack the windows open and turn off my truck.
I watch Matt as he pulls into his driveway and climbs out of the driver’s seat.
The caseworker exits the passenger seat, says something to him, and walks to a small black car parked on the curb. She pulls away and disappears down the street.
Matt gets the boys out of the truck and leads them into the house.
