custody. Courts are big on joint custody. The thought terrifies me because he’s just doing it just to get back at me. It would be different if he actually wanted to be a father.”
“Come on, Al.” She steps into the room to help pick up and bends to snatch a little coat off the floor. “You know he’s just yanking your chain. He doesn’t want to take care of Ben, even part-time.”
“Think about it, Holly,” I say sarcastically. “How can I not be bothered? It’s every divorced mother’s with a craptastic ex’s nightmare.”
“Okay, okay I get it,” she says, dropping the coat on a hook next to the dresser. “He’s freaking you out. But you have to get over it. Don’t let him rile you up like this.”
I toss socks into a hamper. “I’m trying but it’s easier said than done.”
Her gaze grows skeptical. “What’s going on with Justin?”
Shrugging, I chuck a Hot Wheel into a bin on the floor.
“Don’t tell me you broke it off with him.”
“I’m taking a break, thinking things over.”
“Oh hell, Allie. He’s got it bad for you, and I’m pretty sure you’ve got it bad for him. And I’m not just talking about in between the sheets.”
“I can’t deal with a relationship right now.”
She shoves some toys under the bed with the toe of her shoe. “Oh, and when’s a good time?”
I drop the Hot Wheel bin on another shelf with a thud. “Trevor has showed up every day at the shop. He’s not only talking custody, he’s talking about buying me out or taking me over or whatever. Every day his plans get more demented. Mac just about punched him in the face because he thinks he’s the boss now. Shay is scared she’s going to lose her job and be forced to move back in with her mom. Todd is threatening to quit if Trevor comes back. My mom has been giving me the third degree all week about the half-naked man she’s never met being in my apartment on Sunday. Ben was crying before he got in the tub because his dick of a father didn’t show up for the play and—and…,” I stutter, falling onto Ben’s bed with a plop. “Justin told me he’s falling in love with me.”
The bag on Holly’s shoulder drops to the floor.
I dramatically throw an arm out. “On top of everything else, I can’t deal with him right now. Thinking about him makes me crazy. I can’t do crazy with Trevor breathing down my neck.”
Dropping next to me on the bed, Holly wraps me in her arms. “Did you ever consider Justin might be someone to help you with all this shit, someone to lean on?”
“Oh, Hol, I’m not going to use him. I called him on Wednesday, but it was just short and awkward with my head caught in a mess.” I wipe my face, surprised that it’s wet because I hadn’t even known I was crying. “I’m super confused with all this Trevor crap.”
Shaking her head, Holly leans on my shoulder. “I should have never tried to get you to just have fun. It’s always all or nothing with you, isn’t it?”
As I rest my head against hers, a self-deprecating laugh escapes me because she’s described me perfectly. She lets out a sad chuckle too as we sit there leaning on each other.
“Why are you crying?” Ben asks from the doorway. He’s dressed in a fuzzy robe but still dripping water on the floor, his face frozen in a fearful expression.
I try to stand but Holly keeps her arm around me tight. “Sometimes mommies get sad too,” she says. “Everyone has sad days. You know those days when everything seems to go wrong?”
Ben nods.
“Your mom’s having one of those days. Why don’t you come and help me hug her?”
He nods slowly before rushing across the room and jumping in our laps.
After a long group hug, Holly bends until her nose is almost touching Ben’s. “Should we tickle her?”
“Yes!” Ben says.
Their attack is so fierce I fall back on to the bed. In a few minutes, I’m laughing and gasping, “Stop! I’m going to pee the bed!”
Ben scoots off the bed like lightning. “Yuck!”
Holly stands and heaves her bag from the floor. “When someone’s threatening to pee, my work is done.” She pauses at the door. “Unless you want me stay in tonight?”
I wave a hand. “Jake’s waiting. See you later.”
“All right, but call me if you need chick flicks, booze, and an assortment of Little Debbies.”
Zebra cakes and rum? Hard to resist but I wave my hand again. “Go. Jake’s waiting.”
She gives us a wicked grin before taking off.
After she’s gone, Ben crawls back into my lap. “Why are you sad?”
Running my hand though his damp curls, I try to find an explanation that doesn’t have to do with his father or with Justin. “Things were crazy this week at work. I’m a little stressed out.”
“Stressed out?” he repeats slowly, obviously trying to understand the word
“Yeah, like worried all the time.” I tug on the belt of his robe. “I don’t want to worry anymore tonight. How about you get your pajamas on and then we can read and relax?”
“That sounds good,” he agrees, and scrambles off my lap.
We read books until he falls asleep. I tuck him in, remove his glasses, kiss his soft forehead, and wander through the silent apartment. I fall into the chair next to the window and look outside. It’s almost eleven now, and a few people are coming and going. Some hold hands; others have their arms around each other. The silence grows. It booms loudly through me. Beyond the booming silence is loneliness, the dull ache I’ve grown used to and accepted over the past few years. But tonight it’s more crushing than usual.
Unable to take the loneliness anymore, I move to my easel in the corner and attempt to work on my most recent painting. The shadows get deeper along the street, but that’s all I can extract from my imagination because thoughts of Justin are filling my mind.
I’ve refused to think of him all week, but after talking with Holly, he’s all I can think of. His masculine scent. The bright flash of his dimples. The seriousness of his green eyes searching mine. The sound of his sexy voice singing in my ear. The desperate way he wants to prove himself better than his reputation or his past. The lighthearted way I feel when I’m with him. Memories, images, and emotions swirl in my head until I’m rushing to the closet and yanking out a clean canvas.
I don’t visualize, just let the swirl in my head inspire me while I paint and paint and paint.
Sometime around four in the morning, I step back from my easel.
I’m shocked at the sight.
A picture’s supposedly worth a thousand words.
Mine depicts many, but mostly…
The truth.
Of course, the last studio session is hell. Romeo is on a perfectionist tear. Sam is hungover. Gabe, as always, is being an asshole. And I’m a depressed piece of shit. Perfect time to play some music and record it. At least there will be an edge to our sound.
After four hours of playing, we take a breather to eat the Chinese takeout Sam ordered, declaring he needed some grease to help his hangover. I pick at gong bao chicken and pork pot stickers. The windowless break room is essentially a basement, but at least it has several round tables and is large enough that we can also take a break from one another. I’m sitting at a table alone, picking at my food and doodling in a notebook, when Romeo decides to join me. The ass is obviously dense. I’m not in the mood for company. I go to the pop machine for a drink. When I get back to the table, he’s reading over the bullshit I’ve been writing since the drive this morning.
I plop down at the table. “Didn’t know you were such a curious fuck to invite yourself into my shit.” I hold out
