by Alexa Martin
Afternoon margaritas? Meet at Petty Cash?
And then I don’t even wait for her answer. I throw my phone back into my purse and merge into LA traffic. Wondering why I even fucking try.
Some things never change.
And my mom is one of them.
TWENTY-EIGHT
• • •
Lauren
From: Lauren
Date: December 6
Subject: Ho ho ho . . . and a bottle of gin?
Hey!
Well, the holiday season is here.
In my old age, I’ve come to realize there are two kinds of people during this time of year:
1) People who love it and listen to holiday music as soon as Thanksgiving hits (and sometimes sooner).
2) People who low-key (or high-key) hate it and would rather gouge out their eardrums than listen to the iconic “All I Want for Christmas Is You” by Mariah Carey one more freaking time.
I’m in the first group. My roommate/cohost/BFF is in the second.
I think there’s just something so special about the holidays with kids. It’s like, for a month, magic is real. And I 100% go overboard to create this. From the Christmas tree that went up the day after Thanksgiving, to Sparkle Glitter (our Elf on the Shelf, who I both loathe and adore), to my December schedule that includes looking at lights, a full weekend of baking, ornament making, and a movie countdown, I’m into it all. Seeing Adelaide’s little eyes light up during each activity makes all of the stress so worth it.
For me, creating traditions is what the holidays are about. I want to burn these memories into Adelaide’s brain. For Jude, she likes the presents. She gives the most thoughtful presents every year. Her love language is definitely gift giving, while mine is quality time. However, in the Venn diagram that is our holiday preferences, our loves overlap on a white elephant party.
In today’s episode, we go over our favorite memories of the holidays (which may or may not include the one time we tried to surprise Jude’s mom with a pie but ended up setting her oven on fire). I give ideas to create traditions with your kids that are not only easy, but inexpensive—and will be pinned on our Pinterest board. Jude gives tips for throwing the best holiday party you’ll ever go to, including easy recipes, fun decorations, and even a playlist for all you holiday-hating Scrooges.
Cheers!
Lauren
PS If you’re wanting gin after that headline, here’s a recipe for a festive cranberry martini!
CRANBERRY MARTINI
1 ounce gin
½ ounce lemon juice
½ ounce triple sec
1 ounce cranberry juice
Fill a cocktail shaker with ice, pour in all the ingredients, shake, strain into a martini glass, and enjoy! If you want to be extra fancy, garnish with frozen cranberries or an orange wheel.
PPS Drink responsibly!
I don’t know what happened, but something’s wrong with Jude.
She was doing so well and seemed really, actually happy. She was staying home on the weekends and coming with me and Adelaide to do everything. She loved her therapist and wasn’t drinking as much. She was so content.
Then she wasn’t.
Every time I try to talk to her about it—which isn’t often because she’s been avoiding the house—she blows me off and comes up with some lame excuse to leave. I’ve had to take her to pick up her car twice last week because she was too drunk to drive it home. And she told me she was done seeing her therapist.
I hoped it was because of the holidays coming up. She’s never been huge on them, but since her dad died, it’s been understandably harder on her. But I know, deep down, that it’s something bigger. I just don’t know what and I don’t know how to pry it out of her, especially when I’ve been preparing for the second custody meeting.
“Everything’s going to be fine.” Kim’s voice is strong and confident, but those words are almost like white noise at this point. She’s said them so many times and we’re still fighting this battle. As much as I want to believe her, I’m not sure I do anymore.
I nod my head, fidgeting with the necklace Jude gave me. Trying to find any confidence I can muster before I have to face Ben and his horrid lawyer again.
There’s more pressure today. It won’t just be the four of us during this meeting. Because the first meeting failed—which feels like a massive understatement—the court appointed a child-custody-recommending counselor. Basically, a babysitter who will observe and try to help us come up with an agreement today. If we can’t agree, they go back to Mom or Dad, aka the judge, and give a written recommendation for a parenting plan.
This terrifies me for a number of reasons, but the main one is that I think Ben will be favored in front of a stranger. I’m a young, single, Black woman. It would be incredibly naive of me to think that with the history and the bias that has been woven into the very fabric of this country, a well-off white man wouldn’t have an immediate advantage. I absolutely cannot have an outburst like I did last time. I can’t do anything that might make me look aggressive, angry, or anything that could confirm whatever stereotypes and biases I have to fight. I just have to hope Ben’s unexplained absence in Adelaide’s life evens the playing field a little bit.
The door to the conference room at the neutral location we decided on opens and the woman I’m assuming is the counselor walks in. At the sight of her, my breath catches in my chest and tears well up in my eyes. Her curls are wild and free around her beautiful face. Her brown skin is accentuated by the red lipstick painting her full lips. Her skirt suit accentuates her curves, which remind me of my own.
It shouldn’t matter.
Worrying my race would have a negative effect on keeping my daughter should never have been a thought that crossed my mind. But it was. And the relief I feel seeing this woman who will see me as a mother and not a Black mother is palpable.
The counselor must notice my instant change.
She gives me a nod, a small smile.
It’s quick and so discreet I don’t think Kim even notices. But that might be because Kim is white and has never really known what it feels like to be the only person who looks like you in a room. But in the space we’re in, I’m almost positive this counselor has felt it. And I’m also sure I’m not the first Black person she’s met with who was concerned their skin was going to hinder their case.
While she’s taking her seat at the other end of the table, the door opens again and I hear Ethan Caputo’s grating voice before I see him in all of his greasy, slicked-back glory. I know I shouldn’t hate him for trying to do his job, but I hate him for trying to do his job.
What can I say? Emotions and logic don’t always line up.
Ben’s tall, lean body follows him into the room, but when he pauses to hold the door open, my spine straightens, and that little bit of relief I just felt evaporates into thin air when Stephanie enters.
I mean, I guess since they are married, it makes sense she’d be here, but it’s still a shock. And on a day like today, I really can’t deal with surprises. It’d be super disappointing to see her align herself with Ethan and Ben. She’s smart and kind and I would hate if she believed their lies. But I know firsthand how convincing Ben is and I also know how stupid infatuation and love make a person.
“Relax,” Kim leans over and whispers in my ear. “It doesn’t matter who shows up today, this is about you, Ben, and Adelaide.”
“What if them appearing together makes them look more adept at providing a family structure?” I whisper back, careful to not let the vultures on the other side of the room hear me. But even on a whisper, my voice is shaking. I couldn’t hide the fear even if I tried . . . I’m sure Ethan can smell it in the air. “And Adelaide loves Stephanie, this is going to be bad for me. I can’t lose her, Kim.”
“You will not lose her.
” Kim’s hand reaches beneath the table and she latches onto my hand, squeezing it almost to the point of painful. “You’re a wonderful mother, and a relationship status does not change that.”
I nod once, taking a deep breath, remembering the words from the acceptance meditation I did before coming today, only opening my eyes when an unfamiliar voice speaks.
“Hello, everyone. I’m Tiffany Dixon, and I’m the child custody counselor the court sent in today.” Her tone is cheerful and kind, even under these terrible circumstances. “My job is to help guide you all to an agreement that makes everyone happy. If that cannot happen, I will create a written recommendation for a parenting plan and submit it to the court. Both parties will have access to the recommendation before the court date, and you’ll be able to try to work out another agreement without me. Obviously, we want this to be a decision between guardians, court is the last resort. Do you understand?”
I nod my head, keeping my gaze directly on her and not letting it slip to the other side of the room no matter how much I want to.
“Yes, my client and I understand,” Kim says.
“And so do my clients,” Ethan says.
Clients, not client.
I have to close my eyes once more to try to control my breathing.
“Great.” Tiffany looks over to Ethan, Ben, and Stephanie’s side of the table. “Since Mr. Keane is the party who initiated these proceedings, why don’t you start?”
“We’d love to, Tiffany.” Ethan opens the three-ring binder in front of him, not noticing the way Tiffany’s eyes narrow on him when he calls her by her first name.
He’s such a freaking schmuck.
“As we detailed in our past petition, Ms. Turner has gone to unconscionable lengths to keep my client away from their now five-year-old daughter.” Ethan starts with a bang—and by bang, I mean a lie. “For years, she weaponized their daughter as retribution for Mr. Keane ending their relationship. She refused to let him see Adelaide unless he paid her amounts well beyond what a medical intern could afford. Ms. Turner has a history of being controlling and manipulative. My client has had to work hard to reverse the damage she has done to their young daughter by spewing poisonous rhetoric about Mr. Keane.”
Unlike last time, I keep my mouth closed while Ethan rattles off one lie after another. I try my hardest not to react, but even though I know nothing he’s saying is true, to hear someone say such terrible things about me . . . and more so about my parenting is torturous.
“. . . living with her parents, now with a social media influencer, and who knows where she’ll end up next. Now, especially with my client’s new wife, who has a flexible work schedule, it’s clear that Mr. and Mrs. Keane are a more stable environment for Adelaide to live full-time.” Ethan finishes with one last, strong knockout punch, and the hiss of breath that comes from it is audible.
But it’s not mine.
“I’m so sorry,” Stephanie says. Her eyes are on Tiffany as she pushes her chair away from the table. “Can I please speak with my husband and Mr. Caputo in the hallway for a moment?”
Tiffany doesn’t hesitate. “Of course. Take as much time as you need.”
“I don’t think—” Ben starts, but stops when Stephanie’s eyes slice to him.
“No, Ben.” There’s a bite in her voice that I’ve never heard before, and even though she’s on the other side of the table, it makes me—begrudgingly—like her even more. I never stuck up for myself to Ben, and I love that she challenges him. “The hallway. Now.”
She doesn’t wait to see if he’s following before her back is to him and she’s throwing open the door.
“Ben—” Ethan says, and that cocky arrogance that’s always on his stupid, smug face has diminished just a bit.
The Ben I was in a relationship with would’ve let me stew in the hallway—alone—until I calmed myself down and came back into the room, apologizing for daring to have my own feelings. But to my immense surprise, Ben stands up, adjusting the buttons on his suit jacket, a nervous habit he’s had since I met him back in school.
“I’m sorry.” Ben looks to Tiffany, color tingeing his cheeks and tension evident around his mouth. “This shouldn’t take long.”
His long legs make quick work of the small room, and Ethan is up and following him out seconds later.
When the door clicks closed behind them, I turn to Kim. “What in the world is going on?” I ask, even though she looks just as puzzled as I feel.
“I honestly have no idea.” She pauses and glances at the door. “But if I had to guess, you have a surprise ally on the other team, and Ben and Ethan overestimated the pull Ben has on this.”
My eyes go so wide they begin to burn. “Really?”
“I could be wrong”—she pulls her lips between her teeth and nods—“but she did not look happy listening while Ethan was speaking. I get the feeling that she wasn’t aware of the tactics they were using.”
I pull my gaze away from Kim, and even though Tiffany is sitting quietly at the front of the room, she’s looking our way and nodding in agreement with Kim.
The tension I’ve been carrying since Ben walked in the room leaves my shoulders. I don’t know if it’s because Tiffany seems to know Ethan is full of crap or if it’s because of Stephanie.
I know in the majority of cases, the stepmom gets a bad rap, but I always liked Stephanie. So much so that Jude thinks I’m a little crazy. I’d be lying if I said finding out about her didn’t sting in the beginning. I was still mourning my relationship, living with my parents, and struggling to come to grips with my life as a single mom, only to find out Ben had already moved on. But then Ben started calling when he said he would. He wouldn’t cancel on his time with Adelaide like he did before. I started getting child support checks that had his name on them but definitely not his penmanship. She treated my daughter well and did this while having Adelaide paint me pictures or make me cookies.
If she wasn’t Ben’s new girlfriend . . . and now wife, I would’ve wanted to be her friend.
Which is why seeing her waltz into the room earlier hurt like hell. Because even though I knew she was on Ben’s team, I still thought she respected me not only as Adelaide’s mom but as a woman. And even though Ben is straight trash and probably bad-mouthed me to her, I thought she was above all that.
Now I’m praying that I was not wrong.
I don’t know how long they stay in the hallway, discussing who knows what, but it feels like hours before the door opens and Stephanie struts back into the room with her shoulders back and a look of pure determination on her face. I don’t know her well enough to decipher what this means, but my stomach twists with hope I know better than to have that this will mean good things for me. And when I see Ben and Ethan walk in a minute later, Ben with his shoulders slumped and Ethan with a bright red face and fists pulled into a ball, I let that hope bloom.
I sit up straight, my hand going to Kim’s beneath the table.
“Sorry about that,” Ethan says as he slides back into his chair.
“Not a problem at all.” Tiffany’s white teeth shine bright against her red lips. “I hope you were all able to get on the same page and come to an understanding.”
Ethan opens his mouth to answer, but it’s Stephanie who speaks. “We did.” She looks away from Tiffany and looks directly into my eyes. “We’re all in agreement that Junie is a wonderful little girl in part because she has a wonderful mother. A mother who, despite my husband’s crazy hours and demanding job, and even a prolonged absence that he’s trying very hard to make up for, has been the most accommodating, even making a two-hour round-trip drive so their daughter can spend weekends with us.” She turns away from me and levels a glare at the men sitting next to her before looking back to me with soft eyes and a softer smile. “Junie is a loving, happy, and smart little girl who loves her dad and adores her mom. We would never wan
t to take her away from Lauren.”
I’ve spent so much time telling myself to be stoic. To fight back all my feelings and not show any emotion during this meeting. I refused to give Ben the satisfaction that he could still get a rise out of me. I was going to be cold and unyielding. His lies were so meaningless that they were going to bounce right off me. I had nothing to prove to him and he wasn’t even worth eye contact.
What I did not prepare for was kindness. The walls I barricaded myself behind crumbled with every kind word Stephanie aimed at me, but told Tiffany, pretty much guaranteeing I wouldn’t lose custody of the reason I breathe. So the tears that fall, the speed at which I round the table, and the strength with which I wrap my arms around this unlikely ally cannot be helped.
“Thank you,” I whisper into her ear. “Thank you so much.”
“I wanted Ben to be involved, and I’m so sorry I didn’t know the means he was going to use to do it.” Her voice hitches, and I realize I’m not the only person crying right now. “I’m so sorry I pushed him to this. You’re the best mom, and I would never want to hurt you or Junie. I just thought having an agreement in place would protect all of us.”
I want to warn her that she didn’t push Ben to these techniques, that was Ben. Behind his mesmerizing eyes and charming smile, he’s a snake. I want to warn her to get away while she can. To find someone who deserves her beauty—inside and out. But I don’t. Because I know what it’s like to love Ben and—once upon a time—to receive that love right back. I’m not sure I believe Ben can change, but I have to hope that if he can, Stephanie is the one who can bring it out of him. And if she can, Adelaide will be surrounded by goodness that’s only a far-off, distant daydream I have of peaceful co-parenting and blended families who spend holidays together.
I gradually loosen my arms from around her and make my way back to my seat next to Kim.
“So,” Tiffany says from the front of the room. “Is there a parenting plan we can agree on?”