Left (Left 1)

“I think she was scared,” Liv says.

“Of us?” Deja asks.

“Of being a good mommy and growing up. She wasn’t ready. But life doesn’t wait for us to be ready. Our choices have what?”

“Consequences,” they all say.

Liv nods. “Exactly. No one taught your old mommy that.”

“So, she didn’t now better?” Phoenix asks.

Liv shakes her head. “I don’t think she did. But that doesn’t make what she did right. Even when we’re sorry, it doesn’t fix everything.”

“Is she sowwy?” Deja asks.

“I think so,” Liv whispers.

“What she did, leaving without telling anyone where she went or checking in on you is illegal. Do you know what means?” I ask.

They shake their heads no.

“It’s against the law. You can go to jail for it.” I explain.

“Where the bad people go?” Phoenix asks.

“Yeah, Phe,” I say.

“Is she going to jail,” Echo asks sounding scandalized. The girl needs to be an actress someday.

“Maybe. It depends on what the people who are in charge of the law say. They’re called judges, and it’s why Daddy is going to court next week.”

“It makes me sad,” Deja whispers.

“Me too kiddo,” I pull her close and kiss the top of her head. “How about we visit the fairy gardens to cheer us up?” I ask.

The round of yeses are dull as they sniff, and struggle to get themselves together. I wish I could have avoided causing them pain, but withholding the truth would tamper with the trust between us and only delay the inevitable. As we walk away to the other section of the park, I’m filled with hope. What lies ahead of us is uncertain and rocky, but we’re strong together.

***

How are you holding up?” Braden asks as we wait in line for our cups of coffee. I’m running on caffeine and stubbornness at the moment.

“I’m hanging in there. Court’ shell. Between running the business and being in front of the judge, I'm not sleeping well. I worry that she’ll win custody by some fluke. That the judge will have a bleeding heart, and be swayed by the sob story, she's concocted. I'll admit it's a compelling work of pure fiction.

“That’s never going to happen,” Braeden says.

“You’d be surprised. It’s not like she was a junkie, just an overwhelmed mother of multiples, who got scarred. You should hear the way her lawyers spins it in court. You’d think I was a controlling monster. It’s sick how she’s twisting everything.”

“Maloney squared,” the barista calls.

We step up and grab our white chocolate mocha’s to go.

“That bitch. You did everything for her. I always thought she was a little spacey, but you were happy, so I bite my tongue. Seeing her try to play hard ball when all you did was support her constantly changing dreams pisses me off. You can’t go through live chasing a vibe or relying on feelings. It takes money to keep the lights on a roof over your head. You worked your fingers down to the bone at the shop, and still came home to be a damn good father. That shouldn’t be held against you.”

“Thanks Brae.”

“I admire you for that. It’s not easy being a father or a business owner, yet you do both flawlessly, and you landed an incredible chick.”

I laugh. “Now you’re just flattering me, what do you want?”