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CHARIS
“He what?” Bridget’s voice makes me pull the phone from my ear. I can still hear her with it half a foot from me. “Are you kidding me? Shit, of course I can cover your shift. What else can I do for you? I mean, you’re meeting with your lawyer. Please tell me you’re meeting with him.”
If Bridget could let me get a word in edgewise, I may be able to tell her just that. “Charis, shit, are you still there? Why aren’t you answering me?”
In all of this, I can rely on my friend for humor. “I can’t speak because you, girlfriend, aren’t letting me talk.” I let out the most needed laugh at my friend’s expense.
“This is not a time to joke, Charis. He could have really hurt you, and you’re just now calling me two days after the fact.”
I was off yesterday, which gave me just enough time to get my priorities straight. My lawyer was out of town. He couldn’t fit me in until today. “And who is watching Meadow? Surely, the daycare knows about”—her voice grows quiet, for Bridget, that is—“the asshole.”
“Um, yeah, well, I pulled her out for now. They were able to fill her spot with someone right away, saving me money. But, I don’t need childcare at the moment.”
Again, she interrupts me. In her defense, Bridget is more like an older sister, having had her own road to tow when she was widowed with a young child, herself. She understands devastation and is outraged for me all at the same time.
“Who’s watching Meadow? I mean, I can help if you’re afraid Jimmy will show up and try to take her. We can work something out.”
My friend—what would I do without her? I don’t want to find out. “Relax, mama bear. My parents are in town. I hadn’t wanted to call them, but I knew I needed someone at my house. And you know my papa, he won’t put up with anything from Jimmy. He’s already been on the phone with Jimmy’s parents and the man is so mad, he’s spoken Greek the entire time he’s been here.”
My dad reverts to his native tongue when he’s upset. It’s almost like his brain doesn’t work at all when he’s angry, only articulating his fury in Greek.
“What did Jimmy’s parents say? They’re tight with your own. Right?” Bridget’s questions don’t stop coming.
I sigh because I’m sad when it comes to my former in-laws. “Yeah, at the end of the day, you try to see the best in your child. They won’t admit his drinking is a problem, and they’ve not seen him like this. No one knows he hit me. My father, in his most tactful way”—with the dip in my voice, and the chuckle on Bridget’s end, she understands my sarcasm—“told them to get their asses down here and surprise their son. They may get the real picture. They’re in denial, and my father quickly ended the phone call. It wasn’t going anywhere. I mean, as Greeks, we’re quick to anger and my papa has had words with Big James before but not like this. I don’t know if their friendship can recover.”
“Charis, honey. You’re so caring and sweet. But you’ve got enough worry to follow you right now. Don’t give two fucks about Jimmy’s parents. I’m just glad your mama and papa are here right now. Is there anything else? Lawyers are expensive. All you have to do is ask.”
Bridget is always trying to give me money. I don’t share this with many, but my grandparents were well-off. My parents never let me have the inheritance early on with Jimmy, scared he’d drain it. They had been close to my ex and Papa loved him like a second son. Hell, he’s Jimmy’s godfather. But I think there’d been something of a sixth sense my papa picked up when it came to Jimmy, not giving me access to my inheritance.
After the divorce, they signed over the eight hundred thousand dollars to me. It’s covered the cost of the new house I bought to give myself a clean slate from Jimmy, and has come in useful when I’ve been fighting for custody of my daughter from my always drunk and sometimes high ex.
“Nah, I’m fine. Really. You don’t have to worry about me. Seriously.”
There’s a huff on the other end of the phone. “You promise you’ll ask if you need it? I mean, I don’t want you destitute on the street. And if it comes to it, I’ll kick Gibson out of the studio apartment.”
This is a name I’ve not heard. “Gibson? You rented out your apartment? I didn’t think you wanted to do that anymore.”
“I didn’t tell you? My best friend from growing up, similar to you and Jimmy I guess, without the sex or breakup or marriage”—she laughs and so do I because there’s got to be something that makes me smile in this fucked up situation—“moved to town. His landlord kicked him out last-minute. He hadn’t even lived there long enough for me to visit. Anyway, he needed a place in a hurry. And because he’s like family, I couldn’t refuse him. Plus, he and Simon get along well, and he loves Brandon and the twins.”
“Well, my friend, there’s no need to kick poor Gibson to the street. I’m financially sound. Really.”
There’s a small huff again on the end of the line. Bridget doesn’t believe me. “If you say so, just know I’m here to help. But with your parents in town, you should bring them to the barbeque Saturday.”
Ah fuck, the barbeque. “They’re taking Meadow for the weekend to this indoor waterpark, giving her something to look forward to and me a break.”
She squeals in the background. “So, now you can come without issue. Jimmy won’t have her. She’ll be safe with your parents. Come, and accept Stone’s invite. It’ll be good for you and quite honestly, you could stand to get laid.”
“Who says I want that?” But really, I want that. “I can’t with a doctor at the hospital.”
She laughs on the other end. “It worked out for me.”
Yeah, it did, and Simon is a keeper. “No one would want my kind of crazy right now.”
She laughs again. “Stone has his own crazy, so don’t knock the idea of him and you together, because it may just work.”
“I’ll think about taking his invite, but just as friends.”
She lets out a hysterical laugh this time. “And that is how it all begins.”
