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“Zoe, he’s seeking primary custody of Rex.”
“What?” I gasped. “How? The judge awarded us joint custody. One week with me, one week with Desmond.”
“Well, he’s challenging it,” she explained. “He wanted his son with him full time. He doesn’t like the public school Rex is in. And he doesn’t like the way you’re raising him.”
“I’m raising Rex just fine.”
“Zoe… believe it or not, I agree with you. While I do think that children are better off with two parents at home, Rex is healthy and happy. And that is, in large part, because of you.”
“Um… thank you.”
Her voice caught. She sighed. “I can’t stand the idea of seeing my grandson any less than I already do. Which is why I wanted you to know what was going on.”
“I can’t believe this. And he just… he just up and told you what he was planning to do?”
“No. I overheard him talking to someone on the phone.”
“Oh.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and looked into the living room at my son. He was sitting on the couch, the secondhand one I’d gotten at a consignment shop, staring at his documentary about grocery stores.
“When was he planning on discussing this with me?” I wondered.
“I don’t think he was,” she answered. “You know how he is.”
I sucked in a deep breath and realized that she was right. My ex-husband had his good qualities, but he was a sneaky bastard when he wanted something. He was smart, but that smart could manifest as cunning and underhanded. He was going to spring this on me when I least expected it.
“Zoe, you know how he’s going to play this, don’t you?” she asked.
My mother pursed her lips and looked around my new place, critical of its state. We’d only been here a couple of weeks and things weren’t exactly in order yet. While we had some furniture, there were still piles of unpacked boxes lining the walls.
Not to mention that the condo was in rough shape. Some of the light fixtures and the kitchen cabinets were old and needed replacing. And the paint around the doors was peeling. The place needed work that I couldn’t really afford. The plan was to do a little at a time, when I had the money, but suddenly that didn’t seem like enough.
“This is definitely not as nice as Desmond’s home,” I conceded. “But it is closer to his school and downtown. And…”
“Zoe,” she started. “You’re a good mother and you’ve totally turned your life around since you were younger, but… he’s going to bring up the past.”
The past. I sucked in a deep breath. Of course I knew what she meant.
Party Zoe.
Was he going to tell some judge that the night we met, I was puking up tequila shots outside a professor’s office? Or that I caught a stripper’s G-string and kept it like a trophy for several years? Or that I’ve danced on several bar tables in my bra all in the name of another free drink?
I wrapped an arm around my waist, over the scar on my navel from the healed-over piercing. I tugged my jeans up higher to make sure the misspelled tattoo on my hipbone was covered.
My mother was always telling me that being a party girl would catch up with me someday. And, for the first time, I wondered if she was right.
Suddenly, my doorbell rang and I answered it.
Carter stood there, wearing his Kane Construction polo, a pair of jeans, and his work boots. He held another shopping bag from the hardware store in hand.
“You’re here,” I said, surprised.
“Yeah. I know I said noon, but I was finished early and thought we could start on Rex’s room.”
My mother barged into the living room and looked Carter over. She locked eyes with him, taking in his work clothes and messy hair.
“Who are you?” she asked.
