Morrison (Caldwell Brothers)

Well, sort of.

To our knowledge, no one else knew of her request for a divorce—Alex had told her to keep up appearances until she was sure she wanted to walk away from the life he had built for her. Until Monte made his comment, I’d played along with the lie that Jamie was still living with Alex. No matter how fucked-up her situation with him, no matter the games he is playing with her financially, I just have to be thankful he gave her a two-bedroom apartment, although neither one of us ever expected for me to end up at her place with Marisa.

I was only permitted to become friends with Jamie because Alex was so deep in debt to Monte. His business needed an investor, and Monte fulfilled that role, becoming his long-term supporter and lifeline to financial survival.

Checks and balances once again.

With Jamie not wanting to continue her marriage to Alex, Monte loses his power of keeping my friend in line for the sake of her husband. The scales don’t tip in his favor.

We should have known Alex would tell Monte. He wouldn’t keep that kind of secret from the man who has him by the balls.

My refusal to open our bedroom to added participants tipped the scale. And not in his favor. Rather than compromise, he tossed me aside. Funny how staying faithful is a compromise. It’s just another example of just how fucked-up my world is.

As soon as Monte headed out for his meeting, I packed what I could. I left my wedding rings on the dresser in the hopes that I wouldn’t somehow owe him for the overly priced designer jewelry that obviously meant nothing to him.

Marisa and I had been at Jamie’s shithole apartment three days when the cops came. The two officers informed me that, although Monte had reported my car stolen, if they were able to recover the vehicle from me, I could avoid his pressing charges.

Before I had even had a chance to think about my life, it was already falling apart. Knowing I needed income and now a car, I let myself get sucked into the first job I could find, as a cocktail waitress at a casino. Then, using the grocery money I had stowed away, I bought a hooptie of a car that I have to pray will indeed start every time I turn the key.

That was three months ago, during which time I received some sort of weekly reminder from Monte of what I owe him. Marshall, the chief chucklehead in charge of collection detail, said he would buy me an additional three months before he would start after me for payment. So now I have three months to find a solution to my problems. Three fucking months!

The pay is good, but more than anything, the contacts will prove invaluable. Monte may think he holds the cards; however, he is too quick to think I will keep playing with his deck. Momma didn’t raise me to roll over. Regardless of our circumstances, she didn’t give up; she kept playing every hand life dealt her, no matter how the odds were stacked against her.

My mother was far from perfect, but she was a fighter. Despite how bad things got, she always pushed forward, even if it wasn’t always in the right ways.

Marisa and I will play the hand, and when the cards have been laid out, we will somehow win. Somehow, I will get in and win the pot. I will pay Monte every penny I owe so I can walk away with my precious baby girl, free and clear.

Somehow, I will.

“Come on, Flounder, time to get out.” I squirt a fish bathtub toy at her. This week, we are on a Little Mermaid kick. Next week, it will be Cinderella . . . again.

I pick my daughter up from the bathtub to dry her off, and she smiles sweetly at me, momentarily taking away the stresses of my day.

After lotion, pajamas, and hair and teeth brushing, we snuggle in the guest bed of my one trusted friend’s home. My heart hurts thinking of what we have left behind, but it wasn’t safe for us anymore. I live and breathe for the little girl beside me. Nothing will harm her ever, no matter what it takes from me.

I look down as her eyes follow my finger in wonder at each word I read aloud. “Bedtime stories” is what she calls this. Precious moments is what it is for me.

“And they lived happily ever after . . . The End.” I run my fingers through her soft hair.

“Another one, peeez, Mommy?”

How can I say no to that?

After she snuggles down against me, I begin the new story as she gently drifts off to dreamland. Oh, if only it were this easy . . .