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I’ll apologize later.
“You’ve reached the voicemail of Eliza Baker—”
She needs to change her last name expeditiously.
“—I can’t come to the phone right now.”
I texted her.
Jonathan:Why did you pick up the boys without informing me?
Read.
“Eliza, I will not play phone tag with you. You picked up the boys without my expressed permission. It’s 3:12; the boys better be home within an hour.” I hung up and dialed her sister. I wasn’t surprised when she didn’t pick up. “Julia, if you hear from Eliza, please tell her to give me a call as soon as possible. Thank you,” I said before hanging up. “I never thought I’d be dealing with baby mother drama. My word,” I grumbled as I shoved my laptop into my briefcase. I grabbed my suit jacket from the coat hanger and stormed out of my office.
“Mr. Baker—”
“Cara, I must step out for the rest of the day.”
“Is everything okay?” she asked cautiously.
“That has yet to be seen. You can finish the rest of the day at home.”
“Thank you. Let me know if you need anything,” she offered before I dashed out of the building, jumped in my car, and peeled out of the parking lot towards Eliza’s house—technically my house. I purchased a house for her to reside in when we divorced. I wasn’t required to, especially since an iron-cladprenup was in place, but it was for our kids more than it was for her. I wanted them to enjoy the same comforts they had at their family home when they weren’t with me.
I called Anthony. I needed someone to talk me down.
“What’s a good substitute for iced gingerbread cookies?” he asked instead of giving me a proper greeting.
“I—”
“The store is out of them, and I’m afraid I’ll be sleeping on your couch if I return home empty-handed. That woman will be as big as a house if she keeps eating all these cookies. I’m not fat-shaming. I’m just saying.”
“Anthony, fuck the goddamn cookies!” I yelled. “I’m sorry,” I replied, pushing my glasses back up my nose.
“Jon? What’s going on?”
“Eliza picked up the boys from school without my permission, and now she’s not answering the phone. I’m calling because I need you to talk me down before I get to her house. And before you ask, I forgot to remove her from the pickup list.”
“While Eliza might be cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, I don’t think she will do anything crazy. She’s trying to bait you to get a rise out of you. Plus, this is her way of getting back at you for denying her when she wanted to get the kids. Call the police if she hasn’t called or returned them by dinnertime because, technically, they’re missing.” I inhaled deeply and exhaled. “Calm down, buddy. She’s just fucking with you.”
“How do you know?”
“Does she have Daisy?”
“No….”
“There you go. Are you on your way home?”
“No. I’m going to her house.”
“Nope. Don’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“What did I just say, man?”
“She’s fucking with me.”
