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“How was your weekend?” I ask her now that the two of us have some one-on-one time.
“Fine.”
“That’s all? If you enjoyed the ATVs, you can tell me. Lord knows, Hunter has been talking about it all night.”
“I know you hate it, Mom. Just say it. And you hate Dad. And Maisie. And this whole situation. You can say it to us.” Her cheeks are red as she spits her words out like they’ve been held inside her for too long.
She’s right.
I do hate Tyler and ATVs and this whole situation, but I made a vow a long time ago that I would never ever get my kids involved in our disagreements. It’s not good for them, and if I start now, then what the hell did I go through two years of agony for?
When I don’t say anything, she rolls over and pulls the covers with her, hiding her face from me. “Turn the light off when you leave.”
The cold shoulder is practically freezing when it’s iced by an eleven-year-old who you love more than you can breathe.
With the two of them in bed, I head downstairs to make myself a cup of tea.
I’m mad. I’m sad. I’m aggravated and just so damn tired.
And then I’m panicking.
Hunter’s scream from his bedroom sends my heart racing and my feet scurrying up the stairs. I run into his room as fast as I can, swinging open the door and panting. Hunter is standing in the middle of the room in his pajamas and looking at his bed, sobbing uncontrollably and completely distraught.
“Mr. Snuggles! I forgot him at Daddy’s house!”
My shoulders fall as I let out a huge breath. “That stinks. Are you sure?”
“Yes. He’s not in my bag.”
Izzy comes to the door, seeming as concerned as Hunter is. “Hunter, you never sleep without Mr. Snuggles.”
“Where is he?” Hunter asks in desperation.
I kneel next to him. “Maybe he’s in Daddy’s car.”
Hunter wipes his cheeks as tears fall down them. “That means he’s in Superman’s cape.”
It takes me a second to realize what he’s talking about. “No, baby, Daddy is in Cape Cod. Big difference. If Mr. Snuggles is in his car, then he’s too far to get.”
Izzy walks into the room. “Mr. Snuggles wasn’t in the car. Dad would have taken him out with our bags. I think Hunter left his bear in the kitchen. Remember, Hunter, you had him in your hand when Maisie asked if you wanted to help her water the plants before we left for the track?”
His little face lights up in remembrance. “Yeah. And then we went in the car. Daddy must have forgotten to grab him.”
“Okay. We’ll get him when Daddy comes back. My new office isn’t too far from his house. I can go there and get him.”
“No! I need Mr. Snuggles tonight! I can’t sleep without him.”
“What about Woody?”
I grab theToy Storycharacter off the nightstand, followed by his Squishmallow and seven other stuffed animals that he could easily sleep with, but none seem to calm him down. Instead, he becomes more frantic with each replacement toy I offer.
“Hunter, you have to pick someone else to sleep with because Mr. Snuggles isn’t here.”
“But I love him. Nana Mary gave him to me.” His sweet words are spoken through uncontrollable sobs.
Nana Mary.My mom.
She gave him that blue bear the day he was born. It was fat and fluffy and had a satin ribbon around the neck. Now, he’s a bit deflated, and his fur is like hard cotton from being thrown in the wash on the wrong spin cycle.
