“You’re gonna do somethin’. It’s gonna be crazy. And a crazy bitch with a vendetta who wears butterfly shoes is gonna get her shit fucked up. I’ll get you the address. You get your courage up to make a move, before you make it, you make a call.”
I didn’t lie. I probably wasn’t going to do anything. What was there to do? Go to Joker’s dad’s house and browbeat him into apologizing for being an abusive, lowlife, child-burning, slave-driving… asshole?
Still, I told myself, I wanted that address just in case, God forbid, something happened like Joker needed a kidney.
I wouldn’t ask for said kidney. I’d use my savings to hire someone to knock Joker’s dad out and leave him in a bathtub filled with ice after harvesting his kidney and calling 911 so Joker’s dad could survive, just with one kidney.
It was extreme and it was a little scary I could even think like that.
But there it was.
“Okay, I promise,” I told Elvira.
“I’ll have it to you tomorrow.”
“Thanks.”
“Always got your back, girl. Now I got a man to get in the mood ’cause I’m in the mood. Lucky for me, he goes from baseball mood to a little somethin’-somethin’ mood in half a second, and he reads eyes so all I gotta do is walk out and look at him. So I’m gonna get on that.”
I grinned. “Have fun.”
“Hope you get your fun too. Later, Carrie.”
“’Bye, Elvira.”
I drew in a breath, disconnected, and looked in the mirror.
I was just getting the address. That was it. I wasn’t going to do anything with it. I would just feel better having it.
Had a father beat on me.
Car was eight.
Yes, I would just feel better having it.
On that thought, I left the bathroom.
*
The next day I stood in the break room staring at the text on my phone.
It was an address.
My first thought was alibi.
My second thought was I had to do this when Travis was still at his dad’s and I had to do it before I chickened out.
I didn’t know what it was.
I just knew I had to do it.
And soon.
So that was why my finger moved on the screen and I put the phone to my ear.
“Hey, honey,” Tyra answered. “How’re things?”
“They’re great!” I chirped with fake enthusiasm. “Listen, Joker’s on patrol tonight and I haven’t had a girls’ night out in ages and I’ve got a tube top I haven’t worn.”
She didn’t say anything for long moments that kind of scared me before she said hesitantly, “Not sure that tube top is for a night Joker isn’t there to see you wear it.”
This was a point to ponder but I didn’t have the time to ponder it.
I could feel myself chickening out.
“I’ll wear a jacket over it,” I promised.
“I… well—”
“Are you free?” I spoke over her.
“Well, sure,” she said.
“Good!” It came out as another chirp. “I’ll, uh… call Tabby. And maybe Lanie. And Elvira. We’ll decide where to go and then we’ll go.”
“Okay, honey, I’ll look forward to it.”
“Fantastic!” I said with forced enthusiasm. “I’ll text you with the plans.”
“Great.”
“Okay, see you later,” I said.
“Right, Carrie, see you.”
We hung up. I did a lot of texting. I was nearly hyperventilating when I called Joker to let him know I was going out with the girls that night.
Not surprisingly, he thought that was a great idea since he liked me having a life and friends and fun (I left out mention of my tube top) and then he promised me he’d be good hanging with his brothers at the Compound before patrol.
With all this, I was three minutes late getting back to my register.
That had never happened before.
Sharon said nothing.
And I prayed I wouldn’t mess up my drawer because for the rest of my shift, my mind was whirling.
I was off a dollar and seventy-two cents.
That had only happened twice before.
Again, Sharon didn’t say anything.
Then I went home.
*
I sat in my car in my good jeans (the only pair I had, post-pregnancy), tube top, spike-heeled black leather booties (pre-divorce and pre-pregnancy, they were designer, cost a fortune, and luckily, my feet had not changed sizes with Travis), and black leather jacket (also pre-divorce and I was happy it still fit me and looked great) and I poked at my phone.
I group texted the girls, Running a little late! Sorry! Hair emergency! Be there soon!
I looked up from the phone and stared at the house.
Okay, I was going to do this.
Time to do this.
Right, just open the door and do this.
My phone rang in my hand and I jumped.
I looked down at it and my heart skipped a beat when I saw it was Tory.
I took the call and put the phone to my ear.
“Tory, is Travis okay?”
“I get it,” she whispered on a sniffle.
Oh no.
This was not happening.
I didn’t ever want to do this, I couldn’t imagine why she was calling me to do this, but right then, I simply couldn’t do it.
“Tory, I’m in the mid—”
“I stole him from you, of course you’d steal him back from me.”
Darn it!
“Really, listen, right now I can’t—”
“And if it wasn’t you, it’d be someone,” she spoke over me. “If he’d leave his wife who’s pretty and sweet and freaking pregnant, what was up for me? This. He told me he wanted space two weeks ago. So since it’s his house, I had to move in with a girlfriend. Tonight, he officially kicked me out.”
Ugh.
But, if Tory was gone, who was looking after Travis while Aaron was at work? And why hadn’t he told his attorney to tell my attorney there was this change in circumstance?
I wasn’t going to get into that with Tory. Unfortunately, I’d have to get into it with Aaron through Angie.
“Okay, I can hear you’re upset,” I told her. “But—”
“Don’t take him back,” she hissed, hiccupped, and kept going, “He’s just going to do it again.”
“I’m not taking him back, Tory. I’m with another man.”
“He said you were getting back together,” she told me, now sounding perplexed. “He said we were through because you were putting your family back together.”
“He lied,” I shared. “But this is between you and him. There is no him and me. When I say I’m with someone else, I’m with him. We’re unofficially living together. And Aaron knows it.”