They were the words Lauren dreaded hearing on a Friday afternoon. Nick was going to get home from school expecting Dean to be there to pick him up right after dinner, and instead she was going to have to tell him his dad wasn’t coming. It didn’t happen a lot, but often enough she’d grown to dread seeing the disappointment on her son’s face.
“You and I need to talk,” she told her ex-husband, trying not to squeeze her phone until it popped. “He’s already had detention this year.”
“So we’ll talk next weekend. One week isn’t going to make a difference.”
“It’s pretty important, Dean.”
She heard him sigh over the phone, and she clenched her jaw. “Look, the kids don’t feel good,” he said. “Jody said there’s something going around at day care and she’s already got her hands full. Plus, if Nicky’s having trouble in school, getting sick wouldn’t be good for him.”
Their son hated being called Nicky and she’d forced herself to break the habit when he hit middle school. But trust Dean to turn it around so it looked as if he was doing Nick a favor, even though Lauren knew he’d deliberately called before school let out so he wouldn’t have to break the news to Nick himself. The insurance office closed at two on Fridays, so she beat Nick home from school and Dean knew that.
“You and I can meet somewhere and talk,” she said.
“I don’t know. Like I said, Jody’s got her hands full with the kids and I think she’d be pissed if I take off.”
And a pissed-off wife trumped a pissed-off ex-wife. “Fine. I hope the kids feel better soon.”
She hung up and tossed the phone on the counter rather than giving in to the urge to chuck it across the room. Her ex-husband had that effect on her a lot. He wasn’t a bad guy and she knew he tried, but sometimes he really drove her crazy. One of his worst habits was trying to dodge the hard stuff when it came to Nick, leaving it squarely on her shoulders to be the tough one.
Lauren had been having a pretty decent week, too. Nick had done his homework every night. He was in a slightly better mood. And she’d managed two days without seeing Ryan Kowalski. She hadn’t gone two days without thinking about him, but at least she hadn’t run into him again.
Usually she used her free Friday hour to crank up the radio and wash the kitchen floor, but today she didn’t give a damn. The linoleum was getting old, anyway, and didn’t hold a shine for much longer than it took to dry.
Instead, she turned on the television and, when she got tired of flipping through channels, watched some show about a bunch of housewives who whined their way through spending obscene amounts of money.
She’d just started being able to keep track of which blonde was which when Nick walked through the door. He tossed his backpack down, then froze when he saw her.
“How come you’re not washing the floor?”
Gee, at least she wasn’t stuck in a rut or anything. “I decided to see how real housewives live instead.”
He made a face at the television, then plopped down on the sofa next to her. “Dad’s not coming, is he?”
“How did you know?”
“You have that look, like you don’t want to tell me something but you have to. That’s pretty much the only thing you don’t like telling me.”
“He said the kids are sick and they don’t want you getting sick, too.”
“Whatever.” He lifted one shoulder.
“You want to do something tomorrow?” What, she didn’t know. She had to go grocery shopping before they totally ran out of food and she didn’t even want to think about the laundry pile.
“I’ll just hang out. See if Cody’s around.”
Cody had been Nick’s best friend since kindergarten, but Lauren had heard from Fran—who owned the Whitford General Store & Service Station with her husband, Butch—that Cody had been getting in some trouble lately, and Nick didn’t need any more of that. “Stay out of trouble.”
He rolled his eyes. “Like there’s any trouble to get into in Whitford. I can’t believe you won’t let me take driver’s ed. If one of us had a car, we could actually go somewhere.”
“If you can’t handle homework, you can’t handle driving.” This wasn’t the first time they’d had this discussion. “When I see a semester with no detentions, all your assignments done and the best grades you can achieve, we’ll talk about it.”
“Whatever.” He got up and grabbed his backpack. “I have to write a stupid book report about some stupid book, so I’m going to go read.”
More than likely, he was going to shove earbuds in his ears, crank some angry rock music on his iPod and stare at his ceiling, but she left him alone. If she tried to make him feel better, she’d have to make excuses for Dean and she wasn’t in the mood.
Her phone rang and she saw the library’s number in the caller-ID window. Hailey Genest, the Whitford librarian, was not only one of her best friends, but was fun and fairly drama-free, so she welcomed the call. “The dog ate my library books.”