by Katie Cross
After tossing all my cleaning rags into the washer and fixing a Santa Fe salad for dinner, I logged into my app with relief. “Low on the corn, high on the salad,” I murmured, tapping in the calories. 450 calories to finish off the day. My step tracker showed 11,000 steps taken since I woke up. A lower day.
Satisfied that I had accomplished something, stayed within my own boundaries, and somehow progressed toward … something, I closed the phone and set it aside. My eyes flickered to the clock. Almost nine. He had three minutes before he’d be—
A car door slammed outside.
… late.
“Hey Mom,” Lizzy said as she strolled into the house. “I’m home.”
Her hair was parted in two perfect French braids that gleamed, giving way to her beautiful smile.
“Welcome home, sweetheart,” I said, tugging the braid with a quick, gentle hand. “Your braid is perfect. You’ve come a long way in doing it yourself.”
Lizzy ran her fingers over the perfect strands, glimmering a pale blonde in the lamplight.
“Jade did it while we were playing princesses. Actually, we were just playing pretend. She was the princess, I was the queen.”
Lana crashed in behind her, nearly running into the doorframe. My heart hiccuped at Lizzy’s revelation. Jade did a better French braid than I could.
“Mooom,” Lana said, tilting her head back, arms limp at her side. “I’m starving.”
“Didn’t your father feed you?”
“Yes,” Lizzy said. “Lana ate all her dinner and part of Jade’s.”
“I’m just so hungry.”
“There’s food in the fridge.”
Daniel honked and waved as he peeled away in a bright crimson Jeep. He couldn’t even walk them to the door?
“Good riddance,” I muttered and shut the door. Lana yawned and leaned against me. “Are you tired?” I asked, brushing clumps of hair out of her eyes. She’d sucked the bottom of a strand of hair into a point again.
“Yeah.”
“Did you have fun with your dad and Jade?”
Lizzy lit up like a Christmas tree. “It was so much fun! She gave me a pedicure.” She lifted her feet up to the table and wiggled her toes, which sparkled a bright pink.
“Lovely. You too, Lana?”
Lana’s nose wrinkled. “No. That stuff is too girly. But she’s really nice. She cut the crust off my sandwich.”
I ignored the jab. I never cut off her crusts.
“Good. She seemed very nice.”
“Are you mad about Jade, Mom?” Lizzy asked.
I sighed inwardly. Sometimes I preferred Lana’s blessed lack of awareness of anything that wasn’t mud or bugs. Lizzy was entirely too perceptive of my emotions, especially for a girl her age. I forced a smile.
“Not at all, sweetheart.”
Although I’d like to strangle your father sometimes.
“While they did their nails, I watched Jurassic Park!” Lana attempted to climb onto the table, making sounds like a velociraptor. I grabbed her by the back of the shirt and pulled her down.
“Jurassic Park?”
“Yep.”
Lizzy frowned. “The dinosaurs were kind of scary.”
“Not!” Lana cried. “They’re just fake, anyway. I liked it when the dinosaurs ate the humans. Afterward, Dad and I played commandos while they were inside dressing up.” She brightened. “Then Jade came out in a dress and started shooting at us. We barely got away in time, Mom. It was really close.” Her expression dropped. “I could have fake died.”
“Jade brought both of us candy bars from California.” Lizzy grinned. “She even bought our favorites.”
Lana swallowed hard. “Yeah, and we ate them on the way over before we got home. Dad said he didn’t want you to know.”
Lizzy looked at the ground. We usually reserved candy bars for special occasions—something I’d already discussed with Daniel at length in the past.
“I hope they tasted good at least.”
“Delicious. Jade even played outside with me,” Lana said. “She’s not afraid to get dirty.”
“I play outside with you,” I said.
“I know. So does Jade.”
My thoughts spun into places I didn’t want them to go. My daughters will always love me, I thought. No woman named Jade will change that. After repeating it a few times, I didn’t feel any better.
“You didn’t point your imaginary gun at anyone, did you?” I asked Lana. She shook her head. Lizzy snorted. My gaze tapered. Lana slowly changed her shake to a nod.
“Lana!”
“It was on accident!” she cried. “Jade was shooting me from the jungle, Mom. I had to retaliate! You can’t just shoot the ground. That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Jade was shooting you?”
“It was just pretend.”
“Still…”
My thought trailed off when I realized that even I wasn’t sure what I meant. No adult should be encouraging violent behavior, although I couldn’t seem to stop Lana from making a gun out of everything. She’d bitten her toast into the shape of a gun once, then proceeded to throw herself behind every couch and chair in the house while dodging imaginary grenades.
“All right, girls, I’m glad that you had fun at your dad’s, but it’s time for bed. He’ll be back early in the morning. We’ll worry about your homework and chores later.”
Lizzy’s hand flew to her hair. “I don’t have to wash my hair, do I?” she asked with a terrified squeak. “Please let me leave it like this for tomorrow!”
“That’s fine.”
While they scattered to get ready for bed, I attempted to pull my shaken wits back together. A perfect braid, dress-up, and commandos. Jade didn’t sound like a fiancée.
She sounded like a goddess.
Chapter 4
Uncertain
Lana tapped her forehead against the car window and hummed under her breath as I made a sharp right turn away from our neighborhood and onto a busy cross street. She grabbed her stomach and moaned again.
“Mom,” she said, flopping forward. “I’m going to die of boredom.”
“We just left.”
“I know!”
“We’re on our way to the yoga studio. You always love going there.”
She perked up marginally. Next to her, Lizzy sat with a glittery pink princess book open on her lap. Another library find, no doubt. She’d almost worked her way through the school library. With summer around the corner, we’d be making biweekly trips to the public library.
“Are we there yet?” Lana asked ten seconds later.
“Say the alphabet.”
“Oooh no!” Lana cried. “I had beans at lunch, and I already need to fart.”
I frowned. “It’s not polite to say fart, honey.”
“Dad lets me.”
“Dad isn’t here.”
Lana rolled her eyes. “Okay.” She banged her heels against the seat, shoving a strand of hair out of her mouth. “What can I say?”
My mouth opened, but no words came out. For a moment, I whipped through all the vocabulary I could think of, finally settling on, “Fluff. Say you have to fluff.”
“I gotta fluff real bad.”
“Then fluff.”
Lizzy dissolved into giggles when Lana complied. Lips twitching despite myself, I rolled the windows down. Lana started to sing a bawdy song she’d learned from her father, no doubt, while we zoomed down the street. Less than seven minutes later, we pulled into the yoga studio parking lot, and I shoved the car into park. Anyone who claimed boys were the only ones who loved bathroom-oriented humor had never met my daughters.
Lana groaned, then fluffed again.
“Whoa,” Lizzy said, laughing as she waved a hand in front of her face. “That was a big one, Lana!”
“I got more.” Her face twisted up. “I think.”
“You get that from your father.” I tossed my keys into my purse. My seatbelt slid across my chest. The clock on
the dashboard said 3:59. Kelley, the owner of the yoga shop, always left at 3:00 and expected us there by 4:00. I sighed.
Being precisely on time felt wonderful.
“C’mon, fluffer-nutters,” I said, opening my car door. “Let’s go inside and get cleaning.”
“Are we mopping the floors again?”
“Yep. Just like every time.”
The girls ran ahead of me, scampering with their skinny legs over the parking spaces and up the path draped with fresh spring greenery. Lizzy wore a long-sleeved dress and sandals, while Lana sported mismatched tennis shoes and a pair of raggedy jeans. Despite frequent negotiations, I couldn’t get her to let them go. I unlocked the door, making a mental note to fix Lizzy’s dissolving braid, and stepped inside.
“Ahhh!” Lana cried. “We’re here, and it’s so quiet!”
They ran into the middle of the open studio screaming, then laughed when their shrieks echoed off the walls. They crashed on the oversized pillows near the cold fireplace. Mirrors lined the far wall, and plants the other. The entire room smelled like lemongrass.
“Pick up the pillows off the floor, please,” I called. “Lana, you didn’t help last time, so if you really want to buy that GI Joe, I suggest you get to work. Lizzy is going to make all the money.”
“Okay, Mom!”
Lana chased Lizzy with a pillow so heavy she kept toppling over, then laughed and rushed her again. Lizzy’s shoes clomp-clomped across the floor amidst her delighted shrieks.
“Oh no!” Lana called, dropping the pillow. Her voice rose to a hysterical squeak. “Mom, I fluffed!”
“That’s fine.”
“No! There’s more! It wasn’t just a fluff!”
She crossed her hands over her bum, her eyes wide as saucers.
When we emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later—a pair of underwear folded neatly in a paper towel and tucked into my pocket—Lana immediately jetted back to the pillows with a war cry, throwing her lithe body on top. Lizzy had already picked up the broom and was drawing it across the floor while humming under her breath. She’d never admit it, but she loved pretending to be Cinderella.
“We still have to run by the bank, buy groceries, then get home so I can make some client calls, fix dinner, get your homework done, and get you girls in bed.”
Lizzy paused. “I can make dinner, Mom.”
I stopped and put a hand under her chin with a weary smile. “Thanks, baby, but you don’t need to do that. That’s Mom’s job.”
“But you’ve been working all day.”
“Yep. That’s what moms do.”
She tipped her head to the side. “Not all moms.”
“Some moms.”
“When do you get a day off?”
Never.
“When you go see your Dad.”
She seemed to think that over, then nodded and kept sweeping. I didn’t love the answer, but it seemed to appease her worry. For a moment, I paused. When did I get a day off? The idea of going back home and dealing with the life messes there felt so overwhelming my chest tightened. The girls would go to bed. I’d clean the house and make lunches and take a shower and lie down and do it all over again.
To what end?
With a war cry, Lana ran full tilt into the couch, a pillow in front of her.
“Lana, look!” Lizzy cried as she twirled, her dress billowing around her. The tension in my chest faded a little, but the weariness remained.
For them.
But what about me?
The sound of a light rapping on the studio door drew my attention. Mira stood there, waving, wearing a bright pink shirt and matching hoop earrings. I waved her in.
“Hi!” she called. “I’ve missed my girls. Get over here, already! What are you waitin’ for?”
Lizzy dropped the broom, Lana tossed her pillow, and both streaked across the studio and into her arms with delighted shrieks. By the time I finished cleaning the bathroom, Lizzy was sashaying across the floor, golden skirt waving back and forth like a gentle bell. Mira held the broom and appeared to be finishing up the sweeping job.
Lizzy bowed to Mira. “My name is Elizabeth Margaret Harriet Trimble. You may call me Your Majesty,” she said.
“Trimble?” Mira cried. “You’ll have to do better than that if you want Prince Charming to believe you.”
Lizzy straightened. “What do you mean?”
“Trimble is a commoner’s name. You’re royalty. You need a royal name.”
“Like what?”
“Like … Queen Daffodalia.”
“But that’s a flower. Kind of.”
“Precisely.”
“Daffodalia,” Lizzy said quietly. No doubt her love of flowers rushed to her aid—she’d practically swoon in a moment. I silently cursed Mira. Lizzy would insist I call her Queen Daffodalia for the next month.
“I like that name,” Lizzy finally said.
Mira shook her head.
“No, no, honey. What you should have said is, ‘Thank you, peasant, for your input. I shall consider it with my steward and decide posthaste. Be gone with you to your duties.’”
Lizzy opened her mouth to agree, then snapped it shut. “You may return to your duties, peasant.”
I sighed, putting a hand on my hips. Mira grinned. Lizzy would be unbearable after this. Mira winked when she caught my eye. Seconds later, a streak tore across the room with a high-pitched scream. Lana landed in a crouch only a few feet away from Mira, her pants rolled up to her knees.
“I’m a warrior!” she growled. “Fight me!”
Mira faked a terrified scream and waved the broom around Lana in a circle. My eyes narrowed. Black lines covered Lana’s face in wild swirls dotted with bursts of color.
Why was it so impossible to get one thing done with them around?
“Lana!” I snapped. “What’s on your face?”
She straightened, producing something from her pocket. “Just marker.”
A permanent black marker lay in her hands. Lana blinked, her wide blue eyes globelike against her inked skin, when I gasped.
“Oh, dear.” Mira burst into laughter. “You’ve really put your mama into a pickle now, honey!”
Lana shrank back. ”But Daddy said a warrior has to blend in,” she cried. “I just wanna be a samurai!”
“Go outside. Now.” I pointed out the window. “We’re going to have to scrub your face all night long. And you’re going to school looking like that, Miss.”
“Cool!”
“Now!”
Deflated, Lana’s shoulders slumped. She headed for the door. Lizzy followed serenely behind, bestowing one last bow before rustling outside the studio.
Mira looked at me. “You look like hell.”
“Good to see you too.”
Lana had managed to move all the pillows out of the way—finally—which left only watering the plants, wiping down the mirrors, and mopping. I trudged toward the desk at the back of the room to grab the water jug. Mira took it from me.
“I came by on the way home to see if you would come to a movie with me this weekend,” she said.
“Movie?”
“Yeah. You know, you eat popcorn, get out of the house, swoon over handsome men. It’s been a while for you, hasn’t it?”
I shook my head. Just the mention of popcorn made me salivate. It had been years since I’d indulged in anything so buttery. No, I thought with a pang of shame. It hasn’t been years. That last time I bing—
“I know what it is,” I said, just to dismiss the thought. “I just didn’t expect it. I have the girls this weekend.”
She frowned. “How is that going? Is he taking every other weekend now?”
He’s taking whatever he wants.
“Let’s not talk about it.”
“I think that’s your problem. We should talk about it.”
My mouth opened. She was right, but I didn’t know how. There seemed so much to say that to unravel it to a single starting point would be impossible
. Instead, I grabbed a glass-cleaner bottle from my caddy and a special rag made just for cleaning mirrors. Daniel and Jade had bought last-minute tickets and jetted off to their destination wedding somewhere in the Bahamas.
“Can we do that later?” I asked.
She pursed her lips but, luckily, didn’t push the point. For a few moments, only the sound of the girls running circles in the parking lot filled the room. Mira moved from plant to plant with the quiet glug of water. I let my mind wander.
Eight hundred calories for dinner. Grilled chicken should be three hundred, with some mashed potatoes—
“Hello?”
“What? Sorry.”
Mira stood only a few feet away, waving one hand in front of my face. “You with me still?”
“Yes. Er … sort of.”
“I’m worried about you.”
“I’m okay.”
“You always say that, yet you always look so tired.”
“I’m sure it’s because Daniel showed up. He’s thrown off our routine and makes me crazy.”
“I can see that, but…”
Her words trailed off, and I knew why. But that’s not the reason, I imagined her saying.
It was the reason though. Ever since Daniel had popped back up, sleep had been difficult to come by. When it did overtake me, it was restless and weary.
“We’ll do the movie, I promise. Just not this weekend. I’d have to find a sitter—”
“Rachelle has already agreed. She’s worried about you too.”
“Next time the girls go with Daniel?”
Mira hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, okay. Do you promise? That sounds good.”
“Thanks, Mira.”
She wrapped me in a hug, and for the moment, I let myself fall into it. When she pulled away, I wanted to scramble into the embrace again, but stepped back. It felt good to be touched. To have someone peer in from the outside and notice me.
“C’mon,” she said. “Let’s get this done.”
“You’re the best.”
She waved it off. “Better than my quiet house. Besides, you have marker to clean up when you get home.”
That weekend, likely while Daniel and Jade were celebrating their nuptials with a warm breeze and something alcoholic, Lana strode around the corner of the house wearing a pair of shorts, rain boots, and a long-sleeved shirt. A frog dangled from her hand.