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11
Saturday
“You sure they’re sober enough to deal with an issue if it arises?” Whit asks as we pull onto the main road.
“Chloe turned off her phone even though there’s little chance that he has her location. She has two cops who are, without question, smarter while drunk than old Spud is on any given day. They’ll be fine.”
“I hate him for hurting her, and maybe even more because not one single part of him didn’t know he was a monster and that she deserved better.”
“Danny sure seems to want to see her happy.” I chuckle in an attempt to lighten the mood.
“I’d chop off his balls if he touched her before she was ready to move on.”
“Mom used to say, you never meet the right person at the wrong time. She believed that we never meet the wrong person at all. Each person serves a purpose. They’re either a blessing or a lesson. Either way, they are the right person at that time.” I shake my head and continue, “Maybe they are the right person to hurt us so we raise our standards, learn what our boundaries or non negotiables are. Maybe they are the right person to leave us so we will realize we can stand on our own two feet. Maybe they are the right person to break us so we can build ourselves up on our own. Maybe they are the right person but for a different reason than we expected.”
“I miss my talks with her,” she whispers.
“Right now, she’d assure you that life doesn’t give you the people that you want; it gives you the people that you need. So, maybe Danny is exactly what Chloe needs.”
“I’d love a sweet tea and biscuits chat right now; she’d help me figure out why on earth Kal was part of my life. I find it hard to believe he should have been part of it.”
Fucker, I think, and right then, something inside my gut turns. “He have access to the women’s shelter?”
She huffs, “His family donates a ton of money; of course he does.”
“Are there security cameras there?” I ask.
“Why? What does this have to do with—” She stops as realization hits. “Chloe’s name and new phone number are in the system. I think I’m gonna get sick.”
“Any reason we can’t get Nora tucked in and go check it out?” I ask.
Hands to her belly, she shakes her head.
This motherfucker, I think as my grip on the steering wheel tightens.
“Let York know your suspicions,” I tell her.
“Don’t credit me for something I didn’t think of.”
“Baseball or fishes?” Nora yawns as I carry her up the stairs.
“Both,” I whisper.
“Me too,” she says, leaning her head against my chest. “Mommy, do I gotta take a bath?”
“You can wait until tomorrow morning before church.”
“You’re the best.”
“No, you’re the best.” Whit peppers kisses on her cheek as I sit down on her bed and situate Nora, who’s pretty much boneless at this point, on my lap.
“I think you’re both the best.”
“That’s ’cause you’re the best too.” Nora lifts her arms as Whit pulls her shirt off. “Mommy, I’m so cold.”
“Footies tonight?” Whit asks, moving to her dresser.
“Uh-huh.” Nora slides off my lap and shimmies out of her little jeans while Whit grabs fuzzy pink pajamas then a white tee, which she tosses to me.
