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Twenty
“What do I do next?” He sounded a bit overwhelmed. Robin winced. She understood exactly how he felt.
She wasn’t going to break it to him right away that feeling those fun little jangles of emotions was standard for parenthood. “So you survived night one?”
Whoever had invented Bluetooth earbuds for phones was the most wonderful person in the world. She was able to keep talking…as she made it through the tornado that was her living room. Picking up little-girl jeans that were definitely wet and reeked of grape juice. Robin had thought they were all out of grape juice—and pink, blue, and brown socks, nine of them for some reason, and what looked like a robot-slash-car-slash…something…made out of Legos.
If it stayed where it was, it would be destroyed by the morning. And so would her feet. Robin had learned her lesson where those little devil blocks of doom were concerned long ago.
She took a look around, seeing the signs of her kids everywhere.
Nick’s house was going to look like this very, very soon. She hoped he was prepared.
Her house was very similar to Nick’s. They’d been built around the same time, she suspected. Probably by the same developer, off the same basic floorplan. She’d bought hers as a foreclosure with Doug’s life insurance policy—what had remained, anyway.
Her boys shared the room at the end of the hall—and would be hitting bedtime in half an hour. Her little Becky, the messiest child on the planet, was already out like a light in her smaller room next to her brothers’.
They had demanded to know why she’d been so late.
Well, so had Phil and Glenna. Phil already knew some of what was going on—nothing stayed a secret in the Tyler family—and he’d been filled with questions for her.
Robin had answered them as best she could.
“I fed them pizza, read her a story, held her while she cried for her mother, then told him good night. What do I do next?”
Oh, Nick. Gone was the arrogant, confident, I-can-handle-holding-the-world-on-my-too-broad-shoulders man he’d been just that morning.
In that man’s place…was this.
A father. A new one, at that. She remembered all the times she’d been scared, worried, and confused when dealing with what was best for her kids—just that month. And she’d had nine years of motherhood to get used to it. Nick had had thirteen long hours. Of course, he’d be overwhelmed. “How is Noah settling in?”
It was far too early to tell, but she wanted to know that that kid was ok. The look on his face, and on Nova’s, when she’d left had nearly broken her heart.
No kid should ever look that scared.
“He ate, said a few things when I’d ask a direct question, and hid in his room as soon as he possibly could.”
“That’s age appropriate for grief, and for what all he’s been through. I bet he’ll be asleep within half an hour.”
“I’m going to be honest. I’m terrified. Thanks for answering my call.I just…need reinforcements here.”
“You could have called Phil.”
“Yeah, Mr. Superdad who has it all together. I thought about it, but…I just couldn’t. Not tonight.”
Well. That was certainly a surprise.
He felt intimidated by his older brother. She never would have imagined that. “I’m not sure any parents ever have it all together. I certainly don’t. Half the time I feel I’m juggling. Right now, I have dirty-kid laundry and Lego-weapons-of-feet-destruction, and I think that’s purple grape juice on my tan carpet. I’m going to have to shampoo it, fast.”
“I’ve got their files here. I’m almost afraid to look at them.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what she was thinking not to tell you about your daughter. It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t fair. To either of you. And it seems mean and…petty.”
“No. It wasn’t. And I’m trying not to be angry, but…”
“You are. Of course, you are. How could you not be?” Doug had threatened to take her children away from her multiple times. More than she could count. It had been a particularly effective weapon, and he’d known it. Every time. To know that someone had kept six years of her child’s existence from her? It would scar her very soul.
“I just have to make sure not to let them know, right? So what do I do tomorrow?”
