A Million Little Things (Mischief Bay, #3)

“You believed in him. He’s the one who lied to you, Zoe. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“You’re being nice. Thank you.”

“I’m being honest. At least you put yourself out there. I never did. I was more into the flavor of the month. I’m not proud of that.”

“Maybe not, but you had fun.”

His mouth twitched. “Maybe a little.”

Their server brought their salads. Zoe picked up her fork.

“Now that I think about it, I sort of remember you having one date for Jen’s rehearsal dinner and a different one for the wedding.”

“I honestly can’t remember.”

“We could ask your mom. I’ll bet she knows for sure.” Her voice was teasing.

“Yeah, let’s not do that.” He looked at her. “Chad’s really gone?”

“As gone as gone can be. I have no feelings for him. Not anger, not anything. I’ve totally moved on.”

“Good to know.”

*

Thursday after Jack was in bed, Jen walked into the kitchen. Her phone was on the counter and she saw she had another text message from Zoe. While part of Jen wanted to stay mad, the truth was she missed her friend. And maybe, just maybe, she had been a little too focused on Jack. Not that she was going to stop worrying about him, but it was important for her to maintain her friendships. If nothing else, she needed the support.

I get where you were coming from. Let’s meet up next week and talk.

She pushed the send button and felt a little of her ever-present tension ease. She was still furious with her mother, but that was different. It was easier to stay mad at her.

Kirk walked into the kitchen. “You okay?” he asked.

“I’ve decided to forgive Zoe.”

Emotions flashed across his face, but he didn’t speak.

“What?” she demanded. “You don’t think I should stay mad at her, do you?”

“I don’t think you should have been mad in the first place. They’re only trying to help.”

“By telling me not to worry about Jack? By judging me? How is that helpful?”

“Jen, I don’t want to fight with you.”

She waited, sensing there was more.

“You are a little obsessed with the baby. We’ve talked about this.”

She stiffened, emotionally slapped by the unfairness of the statement. “I’m not. I’m concerned about a developmental issue. Would you like it better if I wasn’t worried? If I didn’t take care of things? Maybe we should let him play with matches and drink cleaning solvent. Would that be better?”

“Don’t get upset.”

“How is that possible? You expect me to take care of him all day long while you’re at work, and then you complain about how I do it. Where’s the win?”

“I’m sorry I said anything.”

“Me, too, but you did. So just finish it. There’s more. I know there is.” There always was.

“Fine. You want to know what I think? You need to lighten up.”

There was that phrase again. Had there been a memo?

“I’m your son’s only advocate.”

“He doesn’t need one. What he needs is a mother who has a life. Interests outside of him. You’re in this house too much. Put Jack in day care and get out.”

What? She couldn’t believe it. “Have you been talking to Dr. Miller behind my back?”

“No. Of course not. Why?” He shook his head. “Dammit, Jen, are you telling me that’s what the doctor said? You never mentioned it.”

She folded her arms across her chest and told herself she had no reason to feel guilty. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d been to the pediatrician and there was nothing new to report. “What is there to say? You obviously know everything already.”

“I didn’t talk to her. Ask Lucas.”

“Like I’d believe him.”

“What did Dr. Miller tell you?”

She pressed her lips together. “She said there was nothing wrong with Jack and that I should put in him a playgroup or day care so he could socialize with other children.”

His eyes narrowed. “You don’t think that’s something I would want to know?”

“Of course, it’s just...”

He waited.

“I knew you’d judge me,” she blurted. “You already think I’m losing my mind.”

“I don’t. I think you’re too intense. I think you have too much time to worry. We talked about you going back to work. You wanted to put that off, but I’m wondering if that was a good idea.”

She held in a shriek. “He’s only eighteen months old. Do you want him with strangers five days a week? How could we trust that? Them? What about all the germs, the diseases? He’s our child. We have to protect him.”

“We can’t keep him cooped up in this house forever. At some point he has to get out in the world.”

Kirk didn’t get it. She couldn’t believe what he was suggesting. It was as if all she’d worked for didn’t matter.

“You think he’s fine,” she said, fighting tears. “What if you’re wrong? What if he needs us but we’re too busy putting him in day care to notice?”

“What if he is fine?” Her husband shook his head. “I don’t know, Jen. Are you defining yourself by having a child with problems? I’ll ask you the opposite. Who will you be if our son is perfectly okay?”

She would have preferred he slap her, she thought as her heart cracked. “How could you?”

She spun on her heel and ran from the room. She locked herself in the guest bathroom and sank to the floor. Thank goodness she hadn’t told Kirk she wanted to have sex with him last week. She was never having sex with him again. Why was he being so mean to her? Why didn’t he understand?

Even as she cried, she half listened for Kirk to come to the door and tell her he was sorry. To beg her to forgive him. Only he never did.

*

Zoe patted Lulu. The Chinese crested had settled on her lap. Today’s fashion statement was a lilac sweater dress that came nearly to her butt. The April weather had taken a chilly turn, with low clouds and fog that never cleared. The constant dampness made it seem colder than it was.

Pam poured them each a mug of tea and carried it over to the sofa in her condo living room.

“Have you talked to Jen?” Pam asked, sitting down.