“Why not? We’re working, for heaven’s sake,” he said, thinking about the portfolio they had to discuss. “And there’s nothing in policy that prevents us from being friends. Happens all the time.”
“I wasn’t talking about us, Shepherd,” she said. “I’m just not up to the stares and whispers tonight.”
“What stares and whispers?”
“The ones I’ve been getting every time I go out anywhere since Delilah White’s program. The parents of my students know what’s going on, or at least they’re giving me the benefit of the doubt because they know me, but everyone else in town seems to think I’m a witch or something.”
She’d pissed him off
again. On her behalf, this time. People didn’t have to believe her, but they damn sure should live and let live.
“I have steaks in the freezer. And a new propane tank on the grill.”
“Sounds good to me.”
BARBIE DIDN’T TAKE Kelsey to her house after she picked her up from school on Friday. She didn’t want Don to hear what they were going to talk about. But she worried about it anyway. Don was good to her, the best. He understood her. She couldn’t lose him. She wouldn’t.
She just had to have her daughter, too.
“How about some chocolate ice cream?” They used to have ice cream as a family every night before bed. Mark had been a freak about the flavors. Kelsey would only eat chocolate.
“Okay,” Kelsey said, her little hands resting on her thighs. She used to look at those hands sometimes and wonder how she could possibly expect them to handle all the jobs she gave them. “But cookie dough would be better,” she added.
Cookie dough? Resentment flared in Barbie’s chest. She hadn’t introduced her daughter to cookie dough ice cream. Someone else had done that. And bought the overalls Kelsey was wearing, too. And the little pink top. And put her hair in a ponytail.
Barbie reached for the meth pipe under her seat. And then pulled her hand back. Ice cream was just around the corner, and she liked ice cream.
“I saw my lawyer this week,” she said, forcing herself to concentrate. “He showed me the paperwork for filing a motion for joint custody and he’s going to do it as soon as I have the money for his retainer and the filing fees.”
“What’s joint custody?”
“You live primarily in one place, but your dad and I share all the decisions about your life.”
Kelsey glanced over as Barbie pulled into the parking lot of the ice-cream store. “Do I get to see you, then?”
God, she loved this child. How could she ever have left her? Barbie almost started to cry at the thought. She’d lost so much that she’d never be able to regain.
“Mom?”
“Yes,” Barbie said, thinking about that pipe. If she could just have a second to take care of business, life would be so good. “Yes, you will, honey, that’s the whole idea.”
Keep your mind on memories or activities that make you happy, that was what Don told her to do when she was feeling low. But when the dark thoughts came, nothing felt good. Except maybe ice cream. And Kelsey. If she didn’t feel so bad about how hard it all was. And complicated. If she didn’t panic.
“You want a cup or a cone?” She pushed open her door, feeling for the bills in her back pocket. One step at a time.
“A cone.” Kelsey followed her into the store.
Barbie hadn’t had a say about those cute blue-and-pink tennis shoes, either.
“THERE’S ANOTHER KIND of custody,” Barbie said, feeling better as, back in the driver’s seat, she licked her scoop of chocolate ice cream. She really should do something about her hair. She wanted to be pretty when she was out with Kelsey and ran into her daughter’s friends. She didn’t want to embarrass her. Barbie remembered what it was like to be a kid.
“What kind?” Kelsey asked, and for a second there Barbie wasn’t sure what she was talking about. And then remembered.
“Sole,” she said. “It’s where your father has you all the time and makes all the decisions, but I get to visit you.” Her lawyer had suggested that as her beginning option. And then later put in for another change of custody to ask for joint. Barbie didn’t have the money for two of these procedures.
“So I’d still get to see you,” Kelsey said.
Barbie bit back a sharp retort. “Yes, but I’m your mother, Kelsey. I should be consulted about the choices being made for you.”