So, I immediately panicked.
Unlike Abby, there was no way Jace had left this house without sounding alarm bells or leaving clues to what he was trying to do. Jace, in all his two-year-old glory, still hadn’t mastered the fine art of turning a doorknob. But he was dangerously quiet and that never signaled good things.
Emma and I raced through the kitchen and up the stairs. “He was playing in his room,” I panted as we careened down the hallway in search of him.
His room was empty, and so was his brother’s. There was a chance he was in Lucy’s room, so we headed that way next.
Then we heard the toilet flush. We changed paths and backtracked towards the kids’ bathroom, dread sending icicles of anxiety into every part of me.
There he was standing over the toilet looking down at a bowl filled to the brim with entire rolls of toilet paper. A mischievous smile played on his lips and he looked up at us with a giggle. His finger played with the flusher, as if he was getting ready to flush it again. Panic hazed my vision.
“Jace, don’t even think about it,” I threatened in a low voice.
Emma and I paused in the doorway, hands raised like he was a wild animal we were careful not to spook. He let out another devilish giggle and enthusiastically flushed the toilet.
Emma and I leapt toward him, watching in horror as the bowl filled with water and all the sacrificed rolls sloshed around in their sogginess. I shuddered at the mess and started to cry again when the water reached the brim of the white, porcelain bowl and spilled over onto the tiled floor.
My sister grabbed Jace so he wouldn’t get soaked and we all hopped back out of the way. Jace just kept giggling and the water just kept gushing onto the floor.
My head fell into my hands and I moaned, “This is just not my day.”
I thought Emma would agree with me, instead she said, “Go, Lizzy. Go run. I’ll clean this up.”
“Emma, I cannot leave you with this mess. Are you kidding?”
“You need the run,” she shrugged, but her face was contorted in disgust at the mess the bathroom had become in just a few short seconds. “I’ll have this cleaned up by the time you get back.”
“I love you,” I whispered, still not able to get ahold of my emotions, but anxious for the opportunity to bale on this latest catastrophe. If I didn’t have to clean up just one of the many tragedies in my upside down life, it might be the difference between my sanity and a mental breakdown.
“Go!” she ordered. “Before I change my mind.”
And I obeyed. While she calmly chastised Jace on his destruction techniques, I slipped on my tennis shoes and bolted out the front door. I ran away from the mess in the bathroom, away from children I couldn’t control on my own and away from a house so saturated with memories of the man I loved, I couldn’t breathe with him so close.
Chapter Three
I rounded the corner and the house came back into view. We lived in a cul-de-sac on the edge of town. The homes were all relatively new and custom built. The trees had some time to grow but they didn’t tower over the houses like in the rest of town.
Still, I loved our little neighborhood.
The families were all sweet and lovely and we took care of each other.
I couldn’t bring myself to move or to take my kids from their home. Even though there were times that I wanted to.
Like right now.
Looking up at white siding spotted with black shudders and boasting a bright red door, I saw my dream home. And I saw a lifetime of pain I would never recover from.
Grady, where are you?
I slowed my demanding pace to a measured walk. I told myself this was a cool down, but the truth whispered and echoed inside me. I could push my body to my limits when I ran, when I ran away from everything and everyone that needed me. But now that I was confronted with those same things, I couldn’t bring myself to face them again.
As a mother, I had always felt this severe degree of failure. I had four kids. Four of them. Life was always crazy for us and I never felt like I was enough for all of my kids. Chaos ruled my parenting style, and because they were all two years apart, they were always in different stages of needs and demands.
Now, without Grady by my side, I had never felt like more of a failure at anything. This wasn’t just a small failure either; this was the crash and burn kind of catastrophe that combusted into a million unrecognizable pieces.
That was what I was doing to my children. I was the pilot of their plane of life and I was about to dive-bomb us into the middle of the ocean.
“You all right?” A voice called me out of my silent pity party.
I looked up to find Ben Tyler at his mailbox. I didn’t know how to feel about meeting him again, especially while I looked like this. Most of me still fizzled with anger about our altercation this morning. But there was this small part of me that felt extremely embarrassed that the only times he’d seen me were when I’d been in my underwear and braless tank top and now like this, sweaty, red-faced and panting.
This guy had to think I was a complete nutcase.
I tried to smile, but my worries, exhaustion and general bad attitude made it more of a grimace than a happy expression. “I’m fine. I just finished a run.”
“I can see that.” His smirk was annoying.
“Don’t you have a job?” The words fell out of my mouth before I could censor them. Oh, god, what was wrong with me?
He chuckled at my rude question. He should probably snap at me and swear to himself never to talk to me again, but something told me this guy didn’t have it in him to hate people.
Not even his bitchy neighbor.
“I do,” he said. “I took a couple days off to get moved into the new place.”
“Oh.” Well, obviously. I was an idiot.
“Don’t you have a job?”
I couldn’t tell if this was sarcasm or if he was genuinely curious. When he raised his eyebrows expectantly, I gave him an answer. “I’m a stay-at-home mom.”
“Abby?”