The Trouble with Exes by Cheryl Phipps

Author:Cheryl Phipps [Phipps, Cheryl]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cheryl Phipps

Chapter Eighteen

Eve

* * *

Most people would say that thinking about a problem overnight helps, but I wake up with a headache, having tossed and turned all night, trying to think of what I should or shouldn’t do today. I thought I had problems before; now they’ve escalated to enormous proportions and I’m going to need a plan to deal with them.

That’s how I operate best —planning. Knowing this doesn’t curb my desire to pull the blankets back over my head and stay here until a miracle occurs. I need to find a job, but first things first—I have to get the kids off to school.

Another five minutes sees the immediate need for the bathroom, so I have no choice but to get up. I manage to wash my face, and as I look in the mirror, every detail of Adam’s conversation pops into my head.

Adam said I was brave. Brave? I hadn’t thought so back then. I thought I’d been a coward and a bad friend.

So gently did he speak to me that, if it weren’t for his tone, I’d think he was giving me platitudes. I could tell that he really believes what he said. About Rick, about him and me. No wonder Gill was prepared to marry this man, even though she wasn’t in love with him.

Thinking about Gill and Adam sends me back into a tailspin, and I force myself downstairs. Both of the kids can see I’m in a bad way and there’s no bickering. Such a relief, let me tell you. All they know is that the job didn’t work out and that I’m upset about it. I hope they never know more.

I’m sitting in my pajamas at the counter, rubbing my temples and trying to find some enthusiasm for the day ahead, when Sean comes up and puts his arm around my shoulders.

“How about I get Aunt Gill to take us today? Then you can go back to bed.”

I look at my watch; it’s later than I’d thought and they will have missed the bus. How did that happen? I still don’t have a car, and the company one is now a lost cause. Another thing to worry about.

“Thanks, buddy. I have to get back out there and get a job, but that would be great if could you ask Gill. I’ll be in better shape tomorrow.”

He kisses my head like Jack does.

“I’m sorry about the job, Mom, but you’ll get an even better one. Come on, shrimp,” he says to Lucy, in another imitation of his uncle.

“Hey, I’m not shrimp,” she says indignantly. “That’s Aunt Gill.”

He rolls his eyebrows, gathers their bags and lunch, and scoots her over next door.

If I hadn’t shed so many tears last night, I might be tempted to give in to them right now. Dragging myself upstairs and into the shower, I give myself a stern talking to. Wallowing is not an option.

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