The Marriage Rival

Fourteen

Presley

“I don’t want to drink the yucky milk.”

Speaking through my teeth with forced restraint, I warn Masen to drink his milk or else he won’t be allowed to take his favorite dinosaur to pre-school. The threat is not enough for him to want to budge, and with a tantrum involving his cup on the floor, I send him to his room before I lose my temper.

With a cloth in hand, I get down on my hands and knees with difficulty, careful not to tear a rip in my pantyhose. We’re already running late, and this sulky mood had just made us later.

Haden, of course, left for work early, bypassing the chaos which is what he does best.

After a rocky start to the morning which included another meltdown from Masen at pre-school, I have the pleasure of sitting on the freeway in bumper-to-bumper traffic making me even later. I decide to call Sandy, knowing she will be at the airport waiting to board her flight to LA for our afternoon monthly board meeting. Haden requested she fly back home and has scheduled flights back to LA when essential. She’s only been gone a week, yet I miss her presence in the office.

“Hey,” she greets, instantly calming me with her voice. “I’m about to board, but they decided to sit me next to this guy wearing a mask. Now I’ve got a complex.”

I laugh, beeping my horn at the moron in front of me trying to cut me off. “I’ll swap you for the morning I’ve had. It’s not even nine, and I’m exhausted.”

“Uh-oh… what happened?”

“Oh, you know, the usual. Tantrum-riddled child and a jerk husband.”

“You need a drink.”

“Yes, and a magic carpet to whisk me away to Santorini.”

“Santorini? Cocktails and lying on the beach,” she says, dreamily. “Beats an overcrowded plane with germophobic passengers.”

“We could lay on the beach listening to Avril Lavigne.”

Sandy’s laughter barrels through the speaker. “You and your Avril Lavigne. I was more of the Nickelback girl back then.”

“I remember, we argued all the time about it. So back to Santorini…”

“I’m overdue for a holiday.”

“Well, that’s great. You go on your fancy holiday while I slum it out here.”

“You won’t be slumming it soon in your new big house,” she reminds me.

“Yeah, but it’s not the same as lying on the beach in a bikini.”

“I think they go topless in Santorini.”

I snort, turning the street and driving into our parking garage. “Well, that’s an added bonus for you, not so much for me.”

“Only if it’s you topless,” she trails off. “Oh, listen, I need to turn my phone off. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

“Yeah, okay. Bye.”

I hang up the phone, confused by her comment. Sandy has always had a wicked sense of humor, never one to conform to boundaries within a friendship. It’s just her being her, and I need to not dwell on it before I make her comment something awkward in my head.

One of my biggest pet peeves is anyone late to work, including myself. In the time I haven’t checked my emails, they piled up, and will now take up even more of my time.

Clint stands at my door, clearing his throat to prompt me to his presence. “Haden would like to see you.”

“Did his phone break? Or his legs, for that matter?” I mumble beneath my breath.

“I didn’t ask, I simply obey the master.”