by M. E. Carter
I snort in disgust at myself. It should never have been worth it. But, no. I’m a dumb ass who didn’t figure that out until it was too late. Now all I have is memories of Mari instead of a future with her.
Turning away from the bed, I lay Theo down in his crib. He immediately tucks his knees under him, butt up in the air, just like both girls used to do. It makes me smile.
I wander back down the hallway and stop in the doorway of the girls’ room. Their two twin beds are in the corner on perpendicular walls so their heads are together with a nightstand in between. Their small white dresser is on another wall. And of course, the giant doll house Myra got for Christmas last year.
“You haven’t been in here before, have you?” Mari asks from behind me.
I shake my head, still looking around the room. Their beds aren’t made either. I guess that runs in the family.
“I don’t know how people do this, Mari.” I turn to look at her. “I get to see them so much more than you’re legally required to allow me, and it still guts me every time I leave. How do people not do this amicably for their kids? I don’t get how people don’t fight harder to be kind for their kids’ sakes. I just don’t get it.”
She blows out a breath. “I think most men aren’t as good at being a dad as you are.”
Her words hit me right in the chest and make me want to puff out my chest a little more. Even if she hates me, she still thinks I’m a great dad. It’s a small thing for her to say, but I take pride in it.
I look at the room once more. “Mari, I’ve been thinking.”
She sighs, but I cut her off before she says anything.
“Just hear me out. It’s not anything bad.”
She crosses her arms. “Ok fine. What are you thinking about?”
“The kids are with you most of the time and you’re crammed into this tiny apartment. There’s nowhere for the kids to really play, and they’re stuck inside all day.
“I don’t need the house. It would be much more economical and make much more sense for you guys to live there. I can find an efficiency apartment since it’s only me. But you need the house way more than I do.”
She blows out a breath. “I don’t want the house, Santos.”
“It’s not about wanting it, Mari. It’s about space for the kids. Most of the furniture is there, we’d just have to move you guys back in. I’m sure I could have an apartment by next weekend—”
“You don’t get it, Santos,” she cuts me off. “I can’t live in that house anymore.”
“I… but it’s the kids’ home. It’s where they came home from the hospital, and where we built a family. I don’t need it as much as you do.”
“Santos,” she huffs and walks to one of the beds, plopping down and putting her face in her hands. “The memories there… yes, there are some great memories of the kids. But the rest of the memories, they’re tainted now. I don’t want to go into that bedroom. It reminds me that everything we had, everything we built our lives on was a lie.”
I feel like I’ve been sucker punched, and I’m not even sure how to respond.
“It wasn’t a lie to me.” It may be the most honest thing I’ve said to her since this whole thing began. I made mistakes. Terrible, hurtful mistakes that I still don’t even completely understand myself. But every day I woke up to them was the best day of my life. Now, now it’s all just empty.
She looks up at me with those brown eyes I love so much and sighs. “I’m sorry, Santos. I know you’re trying to be nice, and I really appreciate it. I really do. But for my own sanity, I just can’t.”
I dig my hands into my pockets so she doesn’t see me clenching my fists. “I get it. It was just an idea,” I retort, trying to save what little pride I have left in this situation. “Since you don’t want it and I don’t need it, should we put it on the market?”
She nods. “Yeah. I think that’s probably for the best.”
“Ok. I’ll find a realtor this week and let you know what they say.”
“I appreciate it.”
Suddenly, I feel really awkward being in her apartment. In her space. I gesture over my shoulder.
“I’m, uh, gonna say goodbye to the girls and take off.”
“Ok. Thanks for today. I know they had fun.”
I look at her one last time before turning away. Every time I think we’ve taken a step forward, we take two steps back. It sucks.
Marcus whistles softly. “You sure clean up nice when you get yourself out of those yoga pants.”
I shoot him a disapproving look as I finish applying my blush and grab my flat iron again.
“I’ll have you know, I wore jeans most of the day today.”
“Ooh! You’re stepping up your game.”
“Ha. Ha. Actually, I had to go grocery shopping and didn’t feel like looking like a total schlump.”
He plops himself down on my bed, a newly dyed purple Mohawk flopping to one side, and watches me finish getting ready. I don’t particularly care to have a bathroom vanity in between the bathroom and my master closet. It’s seriously outdated. But it comes in handy when I’m trying to primp and I need to hear the kids. Or talk to my next-door neighbor.
“Well I think you look fantastic.” He looks around. “Your room, however, is a disaster.”
“I couldn’t find anything to wear,” I say, as I clip a section of my hair up and out of my way. “I haven’t been on a date in over a decade.”
“I just find it interesting that the front of your place, you know the parts people see are neat and tidy. But the hidden parts,” he picks a wet towel up off the floor and tosses it into the dirty clothes basket, “those parts are kind of a disaster.”
“Are you trying to make a random metaphor about my life?”
He shrugs noncommittally. “You said it. I didn’t. Now, who is the lucky man that gets to wine and dine you tonight?” He settles back against my pillows with a grin on his face.
“Shouldn’t you be watching my kids?”
“They’re engrossed in Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. You know it’ll be awhile before they come looking for us.”
He’s right. It’s an obsession for all three of them these days.
“Well, his name is Tom, and I met him on Bumble the day I set it up.”
“Wow. That worked fast. Usually you have to suffer through a bunch of losers just interested in sending dick pics.”
“Maybe I pick out better candidates and don’t just swipe right because of a pretty face and some abs.”
“Touché. Tell me more.”
I turn my flat iron off and put it away. In this house, just turning it off won’t do. The last thing I need is for one of the kids to grab it and accidentally get burned.
“Well, he works in sales for some online marketing company. I’m not exactly sure doing what, but it’s very white collar.”
“And as far from professional athlete as you can get.”
“Right. He’s forty, divorced, and has a couple of kids.” I shrug. “I don’t know. He just seems like a regular guy.”
“I think regular guy is right up your alley right now. That dress looks amazing on you, by the way.”
“Thanks.” I look down and smooth out some imaginary wrinkles on the pale blue skirt of the shift dress. “I honestly wasn’t sure it would fit since I haven’t worn it since before Theo was born.”
“Well it does, honey. Makes your ass apple-shaped.”
I pause and make eye contact with him in the reflection of the mirror. “Is that good or bad?”
“Good. Who doesn’t want to sink their teeth into a nice, juicy apple?” He wiggles his eyebrows up and down.
“You’re crazy, you know that?”
“Yep. So tell me, how are you really feeling about tonight?”
I blow out a deep breath and smoosh my red lips together, finalizing my look for the night. “It’s weird.”
“Weird good or weird bad?”
“I think… both.”
He
nods thoughtfully. “I can see that.”
“Yeah. I’m sad because I never thought I’d be dating again, ya know? This wasn’t how life was supposed to be. But I’m kind of excited about, I don’t know… the anticipation, maybe? Like the whole world is out there for the taking. It’s a strange feeling.”
“Well just remember, you’re not getting married tonight. He doesn’t have to be the love of your life. In fact, he’s probably not. Just have fun. Enjoy a man’s attentions. Get a free meal. Hell, if you wanna play a little tonsil hockey, do that, too.”
“Right. Tonight is just about having fun and letting loose.”
“That’s my girl.” He hops up from my bed. “What time do you have to be there?”
“Um, in about twenty minutes.”
“Well then let’s go say goodbye to the kiddos so you can head out.”
Dropping my heels at the front door so I don’t wear them on the carpet, I walk into the living room. Sure enough, the kids are completely engrossed in the television. The girls are sitting on the floor, staring with their mouths hanging open. Theo is standing up in front of the TV, probably so he can dance as soon as the theme song comes on.
“Kids, your mom is leaving so go give her a hug,” Marcus encourages. They all ignore him.
“Myra, Lina, Theo, Mommy is going out for a little while. I’m gonna leave Uncle Marcus in charge, ok?” Still nothing.
I put my hands on my hips and look at Marcus who cracks a smile.
“Are you sure you need me to stay with them?” he asks. “If I put this on a continuous loop, I’m sure they’ll stay put.”
“No kidding.” I kiss each one of them on the head, Marcus included. “I should only be a couple of hours. If you need me, you know where to find me.”
“I’m dead bolting the door behind you. If you’re home before ten, I won’t let you in.”
“That’s kind of extreme, don’t you think?” I yell down the hall as I put my heels on.
“Not for you, it’s not. Take that apple ass of yours and go get some.”
“Yeah. Get some. That’s me,” I chuckle to myself as I walk out the door and lock it behind me.
Looking over at Daniel’s apartment, I notice the lights are all on and there seems to be lots of action inside. I wonder briefly if it’s poker night again, which makes me wonder if Santos is there.
No. I won’t think about that. My past can stay tucked in that apartment. Tonight, I’m heading out to greet my future as a single woman.
I love poker night with the guys. I would love it more if it was planned ahead and not impromptu.
It’s always at Daniel’s place, so when I got the call a little while ago, I texted Mari to see if I could swing by and see the kids first. She never responded. That’s unusual, but it’s possible she went to bed early. As every parent knows, it’s best to sleep when the kids sleep.
Still, I’m disappointed and a little agitated she didn’t answer. I miss my kids something fierce, and it would have been nice to see them, even if it was just to tuck them into bed. Not to mention, I’m still angry over the dating app thing. Hopefully some beer and whiskey will take the edge off my irritation.
“Is this a farewell poker night?” Christian asks Daniel, as we unfold the table in the middle of the room. “No more cigars and whiskey once Quincy and the baby move in, right?”
“Quincy’s moving in?” This is news to me. “When?”
“Yeah, man,” Daniel confirms while pulling more of the night’s supplies out of cabinets. “It took forever to convince her, but she finally agreed. Half the baby’s shit is already here, but we’ll move in the rest next week. She has to be out of her place by the end of the month.”
“The great Daniel Zavaro is finally becoming a family man,” Christian chides with a smile.
“I was always a family man. I’m just adding a couple people to it.”
There’s a quick knock at the door before Randall Shahriary and Sammy Marshall come barreling in the room, greeting us with fist bumps and man-hugs. It’s nice to have some time off from the hectic season, but it is strange not to see the guys every day.
“What is this last-minute poker night about?” Sammy asks, pulling up a chair to join us. “I had a bitch of a time getting out of the house on short notice.”
“Our man, Daniel, is moving in the little wifey and kid, so it’s our last hurrah.” Daniel throws a chip at my head in response to my quip.
“She’s not the little wifey, asshole. She’d be pissed if she heard you say that.”
“So no wedding bells in the near future?” Randall asks, as he shuffles the cards. Daniel counts out chips and Christian passes out beers.
He shakes his head. “No way, man. We both have commitment issues. We’re gonna be together forever. No doubt about it. But we are just fine without the pomp and circumstance that goes with a wedding and all that shit.”
“You knocked her up, didn’t you?” Christian chides, and we all laugh.
Daniel raises an eyebrow. “Not yet. Working on it.”
The room erupts in cheers and congratulations. Quincy and Daniel had a rough go of it in the beginning. Hell, so did their baby, Chance. His birth mom, Quincy’s sister, died in a car accident when he was a newborn. After a bunch of custody issues, on top of the regular pains of raising a baby, they all finally found their stride. I’d be lying, though, if I said it didn’t sting a little to see how happy he is about his new family.
“Speaking of newlyweds, is Rowen coming?” Randall asks, and my ears perk up.
Daniel picks up his phone and swipes right. “Um… yeah, he says he’s on his way.”
Another sharp rap at the door and Christian jumps up from the table to get it.
“Newlywed?” I take a healthy swig of my whiskey. I may have to just forgo the beer tonight. “Rowen got married?”
“Didn’t you see the pics on SportsCenter?” Sammy asks as he pours his own glass.
I shake my head.
“Yep. In Fiji when they went on vacation. Didn’t tell anyone. Just went and eloped.”
“Speak of the devil,” Christian jokes as he walks in, his elbow around Rowen’s neck. “Look who finally got his cherry popped. Does he look different to you?”
Rowen turns beet red while Christian looks him over, pretending to look for physical differences. Of course, they end up throwing fake punches while everyone looks on and laughs. Everyone except me. I’m too irritated to laugh. Just as my marriage is falling apart, the rookie goes and gets married. Isn’t that just another slap in the face tonight.
Tiffany walks in, and I’m past my boiling point. Now I’m just downright pissed.
“Hey! No WAGs allowed tonight.” Luca makes his way in the room and around the group, dropping a bag of Barbeque Lays in the middle of the table.
“Don’t mind me, guys,” Tiffany remarks with a smile. “I’m just here to pick up some boxes for Quincy.”
“Oh yeah. Let me get those.” Daniel jumps up from his seat and heads down the hall.
“Seriously guys.” Randall leans back in his chair. “Congratulations. Rebecca was so jealous you guys got hitched in Fiji. Says I need to take her there to get our vows renewed now, or something.”
Tiffany puts her arm around Rowen’s waist and smiles. “You should definitely go. Fiji is just beautiful.”
Rowen kisses her on the top of the head as they tell the guys all about their trip and how much fun they had. Everyone seems interested in what they’re saying, but I just keep getting more and more infuriated.
Finally, I can’t take anymore. I shove my chair away from the table and stomp my way to the kitchen, not wanting to be in the same room with them. They’re all laughter and smiles after blowing my marriage to pieces.
I grab a beer and slam the fridge door with more force than I should. My body is practically shaking in anger. How dare that groupie whore show up at a guys’ night? She has some nerve being here. She doesn’t even belong here.
&nb
sp; “Sorry, I just need to grab something.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath when I hear her voice. The one person I was trying to get away from has followed me into the room.
“What the fuck do you want, Tiffany?” I say, unable to contain my emotions anymore. I’ve been holding it all in for too long.
“The red washcloth you’re standing in front of,” she responds. “Quincy said something about it being Chance’s favorite and him not sleeping without it. She asked me to bring it with me.”
I glare at her before moving out of her way. She snatches it quickly off the counter and starts toward the door. Before she makes it all the ways, she turns around to face me.
“For what it’s worth, I’m really sorry about what’s happened with Mariana. She’s a really nice woman.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Are you fucking serious right now?”
“What?”
“You single-handedly ruin my marriage, you fucked up everything, and you have the nerve to tell me you’re sorry about what’s happened?”
“Wait… what?”
I take two steps toward her. “You come in here, a fucking groupie whore, after the things you’ve done in private, in public, in the middle of a group of people, and you have the fucking audacity to tell me you’re sorry for what’s happened to me?”
“I…” she gapes, eyes wide as I rant.
“No! You don’t get to be sorry for anything. You don’t belong here. Do you hear me? She deserves to be here. You don’t.”
“Back. The fuck off. My wife. Before this gets any uglier.”
My eyes snap up and I see Rowen standing in the doorway, fists clenched. Tiffany immediately moves to his side, but I don’t take my eyes off of his.
“Babe, I think you need to head to the other room,” he tells her.
“Rowen,” she interjects, “it’s ok. I get why he’s angry.”
