Faking It with the Frenemy

–Dad: You shoulda seen Geneva’s face when we told her.

Petty satisfaction courses through me. Geneva can’t stand not getting her way.

–Mom: I told her Vi’s with her best friend, and Geneva looked so blank. Because she has no clue who her child’s friends are.

Then she adds a smug devil emoticon.

Part of me is disgusted, but another part—the decent part of me, no doubt—is sad for Vi. She deserves a better mom than Geneva.

–Mom: Hopefully that witch never comes around again. I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself next time.

–Dad: I wanted to ask her if she’s managed to dig up another walking goldmine…and if it isn’t going to stick its you-know-what into another woman.

I’m tempted to laugh. I should be mildly appalled at how juvenile my parents are, but…Geneva asked for it.

My phone rings. Speak of the devil… I’m tempted to pick it up so I can give Geneva a piece of my mind, but I control myself. There’s no need to stoop that low, and it’ll drive her crazy to be ignored.

So I let it go to voice mail. But my phone rings again…and again…and again.

After fifteen minutes, I finally pick up. “What?” I snap. Rude, I know. Don’t care.

“Where did you hide my daughter?” Geneva screeches.

“Oh, so she’s your daughter now?” Since when did Geneva start referring to our daughter that way or speak of her so…possessively?

“You’re damn right! And you can’t hide her from me. I’m her mother!”

I roll my eyes. “She’s staying with a friend. A sleepover. You’ve heard of ’em, right?”

“I know what they are! I’m not stupid!”

Just self-absorbed, sociopathic and loud.

“I’m entitled to custody and child support. You understand that, don’t you?”

What the fuck? My spine starts to stiffen, and hot rage unfurls in my gut as I realize what she’s getting at. “Oh, no. Uh-uh. You’re the one who told me you didn’t want Vi because your fiancé doesn’t like kids, and you had no use for her. Your words, not mine.”

“But he’s not my fiancé anymore, and I changed my mind. It’s a woman’s prerogative!”

If she were here, I’d throttle her. Changing her mind, my ass. “Not in this case. Vi isn’t a purse you can just buy and return because you feel like it!”

“She’s not a purse!”

“That’s what I just said. And she’s not a meal ticket, either!”

“How dare you!”

“Oh I’ll dare plenty where my daughter is involved!” I say, so pissed off that my vision is going a hazy red.

“I’ll take you to court if I have to, and I’ll win! Judges love mothers.”

I feel my mouth twist into an ugly line. Like she can actually undo our divorce settlement. “Generally. But they make exceptions for harpy bitches like you!”

She gasps. “You’ll be sorry you said that!”

“Try me,” I snarl into the phone. “I’ll fucking destroy you.” And I mean it. I will ruin her if she does anything more to hurt Vi. I will make it my life’s mission.

“Fuck you! You can’t do that! All you have is money. You’re just a pathetic guy who thinks his dick suddenly grew because he got lucky. You know what? You were never any good in bed!”