*
Mickey and I were on our way back from the movie when he said, “Both your kids came to you last night, so I talked to a coupla buds. They’re good with bein’ on call should I need them at the firehouse.”
He had my hand in his resting on my thigh and he was stroking the side with his thumb.
He also was gently reminding me he wanted to meet my kids.
I liked that but I was nervous about it.
“Next time they come again together, I’ll give them the talk,” I promised.
We’d already had the dating discussion and they were absolutely not under the impression their father and I would get back together.
But Mickey was right. Although I didn’t see them on Monday, they both came over after school the day before and stayed well past dinner. And they didn’t even watch a program they DVRed. We all watched a movie on HBO together.
And it was good. It was easy. It was normal. It was what we had three years ago and it was this way like those three years hadn’t happened.
Of course, Auden and I had our brief discussion and it wasn’t a surprise that Olympia didn’t address it. She shied away from confrontation (except when she was fighting with her brother). Not only her own but others. Something that made what I did make me feel even guiltier because she’d seen a lot of that between Conrad, Martine and me.
She wouldn’t broach it. She’d let it lie and move on.
And Mickey was also right that I should rejoice, build on it, let it be and not worry.
But I was a mother, and as removed from my children as I was, I knew them.
Something else was happening.
Until my last breath I wanted them to feel I was their safe harbor.
I just wanted to know, if that’s why they needed me, what I was harboring them from.
Mickey drove to my place, hit the garage door opener and drove right in. I sat beside him, taking my mind from my thoughts by thinking my house was perfect. In that moment, I was thinking that because it had a two-car garage as well as a smaller one-car one next to it that you could get to with its own opener and through a door from the bigger one to the smaller one inside.
The one-car one was perfect for my Mercedes.
The Rover and my son’s Civic got the big one.
See?
Perfect.
He parked. We got out. We went in.
I was wandering to the kitchen, flipping on the pendant lights, asking Mickey, “Do you want a beer?” when the doorbell rang.
I stopped and looked to it.
Mickey, a few paces behind me, had also stopped and he was twisted to it.
The outdoor light was on and I knew the body shaded in the glass.
Conrad.
What was he doing here at this hour?
Or at all?
“Shit, that’s Conrad,” I whispered.
Mickey stayed twisted toward the door, but slowly, his head turned to me.
I caught his look, which meant I caught my breath, and that was unfortunate because I had to focus on breathing and was too late in acting.
This meant Mickey was swiftly prowling toward the door before I got my body to move and my mouth to call, “Mickey, let me.”
He stopped at the door, aimed that dangerous look at me and said one word.
“No.”
Then he turned back to the door, unlocked it and threw it open.
I was five feet away but had a good view of Conrad on my doorstep scowling up at Mickey.
“You do not get to do this,” Mickey growled as I got to him, pressed to the side of his back and put a hand to its small.
Before I could say a word, Conrad looked to me.
“Call your Neanderthal off, Amelia.”
Mickey went solid beside me and I was right there with him.
“Don’t speak about Mickey that way,” I snapped.
“Why?” Conrad bit back. “You felt free to aim your venom at Martine.”
“Yeah, but she isn’t fuckin’ me with your ring on her finger. You got no leg to stand on with that one so get past it, asshole,” Mickey ground out.
Conrad turned angry eyes to Mickey. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I do and part of what I know is your woman knew you had to scrape off your wife before she got her own ring from you so she doesn’t have a leg to stand on either,” Mickey returned. “Now, again, get past it and if you got somethin’ to say, say it and then get the fuck outta here.”
Conrad looked back to me. “This man doesn’t know me, he has no call to curse at me.”
“Man, you’re here at ten at night uninvited and unwanted and you rang the bell the minute we got in, so you been layin’ in wait for your attack,” Mickey shot back. “I opened the door and you brought it. You brought it and blew any respect you might have gotten from me. This isn’t your home. You got no rights in this situation. And advice. Fuckin’ grow a pair. No call to curse at you?” he taunted. “Fuckin’ sissy.”
Conrad’s face was hard and his fury was palpable when he turned that to me.
“I’ll thank you to adhere to the custody agreement ordered by the judge,” he stated.