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CHAPTER 10
I’m in a goldfish and vodka sort of hell.
“Momma. M-m-m-m-Momma. Mommy. Momma. Mommy. Momma. I’m awake now. Momma.” Mia’s little voice comes in loud and clear through the monitor and reverberates in my head like a bullet gone astray that was able to penetrate my skull, and is now ricocheting in there scrambling my brains.
Anyone with small children is probably cringing at my story by now. Not because of the fact that I’m making a total mess out of my life, but because they know what it’s like to drink like you’re young and single. But you’re not. You still have to wake up at the crack of dawn, ready to care for another being the entire day. Someone who doesn’t care that you feel like shit.
Sitting at the kitchen table, hating myself more than I have ever in my entire life, I sit with Mia while she has her breakfast, desperately trying not to vomit at the smell of her scrambled eggs.
“Momma, when is Daddy coming home?”
“Later, baby. He still has a few meetings.” Owen had called me earlier in the morning. When he asked what was wrong, I told him the truth. I was hungover as fuck.
My phone buzzes, the sound of it booming in my ears. I put my hand over my eyes for fear that they’ll pop out from the pressure in my head, then grab the thing to see who the torturer is.
Jessoc D. my phone says. The day I’d entered Jess’ contact, Mia had taken my phone and her fingers hit the additional letters. I don’t know why I’ve never corrected her name on my contacts. Even now, I just let it be.
-S’up.she says.
-Hey.
-We still taking the kids to the park? Or should we just Bun it and feed your hangover while we watch them play?
-How’d you know I was hungover?I ask, looking out the kitchen window to see if she’s peeking in.
-After what happened yesterday, there is no way you didn’t hit the bottle when you got home. And knowing you, you had no self-control.
-I cried hysterically while I exercised on the elliptical. Like a crazy person. I confess.
There is no response for a while, then, a few minutes later comes her reply in the form of a GIF, with a woman on a treadmill wearing a head band that is open-mouth crying. Back and forth the little picture goes, her arms flapping like she’s swimming, or better yet, drowning, her legs wildly mimicking the movements.
A burst of laughter bubbles out of me and it sort of makes me mad that she made me laugh when I am supposed to feel down.
Damn it if Owen didn’t hook her on making those a month ago when the Donahues came over for a cookout. So now between the two of them, I get a healthy dose of memes and GIFs every day. Probably more than anyone should.
-The Bun sounds amazing.I tell her.The sooner the better.
We’re the lucky people that live near The Bun, as there are only two in the country, one here in Charlotte not too far from when we live, and the other somewhere in Alaska.
Beyond having my favorite burger, nothing more than just a cheeseburger with shredded lettuce, a thick slice of tomato and mayo, so simple but oh so delicious, they also have one of the best playgrounds I’ve ever seen. Part inside, with slides and climbing walls galore, there is also an outdoor area that is open during the summer months only, with a small splash pad and another playset.
Though it’s a fairly warm March day, it’s certainly not warm enough to frolic in jets of cold water, and I’m so happy it’s closed because Mia wouldn’t care. She’d still splash around until her lips turned blue, then she’d run to me and plaster her cold little body to my dry one for heat. And I, as a good mother, would sacrifice my warmth to her, but my face would contort in agony as the icy water would penetrate my skin like needles.
A chill goes through me and I shiver at the thought as I stare through the window and remember last summer.
“Did you just imagine that damned cold water?” Jess asks, a shiver going through her, too.
“Yeah. I brought Mia on that cool day back in August, do you remember? It just didn’t cross my mind that the water would be so cold in summer. And with the cooler weather… It was bad.”
“Yup. Been there. Come on, let’s go sit over there,” she hints at a table right at the border of the playground where we can watch the kids and monitor anyone who approaches.
We sit with our drinks and place our respective numbers on the table as our three kids head off to play.
“Clara didn’t want to come?” I ask Jess.
“Nope. She has daddy/daughter day. Kev took her out to lunch, then he’s taking her rock climbing.”
“Nice.”
