Mom squeaks. “Nora?”
Damn it. I should’ve kept my mouth shut.
“The friend you’re going away with for the weekend is a girl?”
“Yes, Mom, but we’re just friends.”
“That’s how all good relationships start out.”
“We’re not in a relationship.”
“Not yet, but I bet you will be by the time you get back.”
Maybe her moving home isn’t such a good idea. “Okay, Mom, I’m hanging up now.”
“Love you, sweetie.”
“Love you, too.”
I hang up and drop my head against the back of the couch. She’s probably already sending a group text to all of her friends. I can picture her now, squealing at her phone as she talks about a wedding and more babies.
Mom was never a huge fan of Lorelei, and I’m sure she’s been patiently waiting for me to start dating since the divorce. Surprisingly, she hasn’t asked about my love life, but I’m certain it hasn’t been far from her mind.
My phone vibrates in my hand, and I pick it up to see a text from Duke.
You and Nora are going away for the weekend?
Jesus C. You and Mom gossip too much.
Are you or aren’t you?
Yes, but I’m just helping her out with something. It’s not a big deal.
It’s a big deal. Don’t forget to pack condoms.
“Poopie.” Henry crawls onto my lap and smacks my chest. “Poopie.”
I catch a whiff of what he’s talking about and scoop him into my arms. I tuck my phone in my pocket, ignoring another text that comes through. I’m sure it’s Duke being a douchebag.
“Come on, little man, let’s get you cleaned up and ready for bed.”
When I pull the diaper off of Henry, I have to turn my head to keep from gagging. You’d think I would’ve gotten used to cleaning shit, but I haven’t. It still makes me sick, every single time.
Once his butt is clean, I put him and Emma into my bathtub together. It’s big enough for all three kids, but Jack started taki
ng separate showers last year. He’s really good at bathing himself, which is a huge help.
I wash Henry and Emma’s hair, scrub their bodies, and then sit on the toilet and check my email while they play.
“Daddy?”
I look up from my phone. “Yeah, sugarplum?”
“Nowa wants to take a bubblebaf in here.”
“She does?”
“Uh-huh.” Emma nods. Her wet curls fling water into Henry’s face, and he flinches. “She wikes our tub, and she wikes to take bubblebafs wike me.”