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I pour myself a cup of bitter coffee from the pot my parents have had since I was younger than Nadia and Dakota. Then I check my social media feeds and hope that Dad manages to stay asleep until Mom returns.
Otherwise, things could get dangerous fast.
ChapterFour
Mom and Dad wave from the porch as I pull out of their driveway. Although Dad didn’t sleep the entire time like I’d hoped, he’d at least been lucid. Granted, he thought I was his favorite nurse and not his daughter, but it was still a win. I didn’t have to stand between him and the front door like last time. He’s taller and stronger than me by a significant margin.
I don’t have much time before I need to pick up Owen and Sophie from preschool, so a nap is out. I could’ve taken one while my dad slept, but I couldn’t risk being that vulnerable around him in case he woke and I didn’t hear him. There’s no telling what he’d do, though I’m sure it wouldn’t involve scissors. But he isn’t living in reality, so anything is possible. I don’t know how my mom sleeps at night.
Despite all the caffeine I’ve guzzled today, I still want more. But I’m drawing the line at this point. Another cup will have me shaking and probably unable to sleep for the next week. Just what I need.
I decide to go to the little strip mall a few blocks away from the preschool to kill some time. It holds a few unique shops, and it’s always interesting to see what those stores have in stock. I often find gifts that I stash away for later holidays.
First, I go to a popular clothing boutique. My stepdaughter’s comment about my outfit grinds through my mind every time I pass a mirror—and this shop is full of them. I’m not out of style. I choose not to dress like a teenager and shouldn’t at my age. Dakota doesn't know what she’s talking about. Her mom always looks like she’s trying to be a college student, and that’s her prerogative, but looking like an adult is mine.
In the kids’ section, I find myself holding up princess dresses. These are even fancier than the one Sophie wore this morning. She would fall over herself if she saw these. I tuck the cutest one under my arm and look for something Owen might like. Not that he’s interested in clothes. He wouldn’t even look at these superhero outfits. The only thing he cares about is drawing. Even when he’s at gymnastics, he’s drawing invisible pictures in the air with his finger.
“Angelina?”
I spin toward the familiar voice. It’s Chelsea from the PTA at the middle school. She’s been leading all the PTA committees for as long as I can remember. Probably since kindergarten. The woman is nothing if not efficient, but every time I see her, she has something she wants from me.
Today I have nothing to give. Not one thing left in me. It’ll be a miracle if I stay awake to watch Owen and Sophie in gymnastics.
I force a smile. “Chelsea. It’s so good to see you.”
“Always a pleasure.” She gives me a light hug and air kisses.
It would be awkward if I didn’t return the gesture, so I do.
She gives me a once-over. “You look gorgeous as usual.”
I can’t tell if she means it or is mocking me. After Dakota’s comment this morning, I admit to being overly sensitive regarding what I’m wearing. But that’s not the issue. I always question Chelsea’s sincerity. She’s hard to read, and I’m pretty sure she speaks that way on purpose.
“Oh, I could never look as put together as you.”
Chelsea beams. “You’re too kind. Are you going to be at the PTA meeting tomorrow night? We have to discuss the big dance. I’m sure your girls are so excited about it.”
This is the first I’m hearing about a dance, but it does explain their spat over a boy last week. “Yes, they’re beyond excited.”
“Wonderful! I’m so glad you’ll be at the meeting tomorrow.”
Wait. Did I just agree to that?
She glances at the time. “I’d better get going. It was such a treat running into you. A relief, actually.”
“A relief?”
Chelsea hesitates. “After what happened at Runway Nails.”
“At the nail salon?”
“Yesterday.” She looks at me expectantly.
I must have missed some gossip, because I never go to Runway Nails. Trixie, Bryant’s long-term girlfriend, is the owner and can’t stand me. Given the lies my ex has undoubtedly told her about me, I can’t blame her. But I also won’t go near the woman. She’s a sweetheart to Nadia—according to Nadia herself—and that’s all I care about. The last thing I want is to do anything to make things worse for my girl.
Chelsea’s still looking at me like she wants me to say something.
“What happened at the salon?”
