Tucking my phone into my pocket, I sigh and lean back on the swing, wrapping my hands around the chains as I swing slowly back and forth, my boots dragging across the grass as I sway in time to the creaking branch above my head.
Figure I'll wait it out here, either until Tinley leaves or the kids get home from school. Then we'll see how Brooke's feeling and work from there. If she's jealous, that's cool. So was I when she brought Dan the Douche home. I get it.
But give me five minutes alone with her and I'll make her forget all about it.
Tinley does not fucking leave, and my day gets even better when animal control shows up as I'm struggling to get something presentable ready for dinner. I tried making PB&Js but that shit did just not go down well. Kinzie feed hers to the dogs, and the twins flushed theirs down the toilet. I need to get some food in these brats and get them to bed early.
Sadie's doctor couldn't fit us in today, but we've got an appointment at nine in the morning. God only knows how I'm going to make that shit on time.
Oh.
And one of Rob's neighbors—I think it was actually that bible-thumper, Shiela (out of jail on a technicality)—called to tell him that the front door of the duplex was hanging wide open and that it was a “complete shit hole inside”. Rob's words, not the neighbor's.
So now I've got to cook dinner, get the kids in bed, see if Brooke can take a break from her studying with Tinley to watch them, and then run over there to check on the place/clean it/take pictures for Craigslist.
I feel like I'm about to blow my damn brains out, kind of like the way I did when I first got here. And I thought I was getting the hang of all this shit? Please.
My phone is clutched in my hand when I answer the door, the answers on Google about how to make spaghetti waiting patiently for my attention.
“Yeah?” I ask when I find some guy in a brown uniform standing there. He smiles tightly at me.
“Hi there,” he says as Dodger appears from out of nowhere and starts “dogging” the shit out of my leg. “My name is Christian Gross, and I'm from Humboldt County Animal Control. We received a complaint this morning about—”
Kinzie breaks into a violent scream behind me, shattering my eardrums into pieces as I struggle to remove the horny hairless dog from my leg. Things were going great. Awesome. Perfect, even. In fact, I was actually kind of starting to enjoy this whole thing.
Not so much anymore.
“One second.”
I turn around and find Kinzie in a wild fistfight with one of the twins, pausing to scoop her up and deposit her on the fuzzy pink toilet seat cover.
“Seven minutes,” I say as I step out and close the door, grabbing the twin and parking him on the bottom step. “Four minutes. If you move, I'll know. Remember: I really do have eyes in the back of my head.”
I step back up to the door and find that the animal control officer's already wrangled up two escapee chihuahuas. Dodger's still following me around and doing things to my leg that no human being ever has. Makes me a little uncomfortable, you know? I push the dog away with my foot and snatch the chihuahuas from the guy's arms.
“This is about that garbage can thing?” I ask and the man nods, giving me a really sympathetic look, especially when I grunt and stumble forward, turning around to find a football on the floor behind me. Bella is grinning and fist pumping across the living room while Sadie screams.
“I'm going to the first female quarterback in the NFL!”
“That's great, babe, but please don't throw footballs in the house, okay?” Bella nods vigorously and pounces over to grab her toy.
“Why did I get a time-out and she doesn't?” Kinzie yells, curled around the bathroom door, her butt cheeks still technically sitting on the toilet seat and therefore not violating the rules of her TO. I roll my eyes and lift my hands up.
“Because it was an accident. Stop talking or I'm adding time to your sentence, kid.”
I turn back to Animal Control Dude as Brooke appears in the kitchen doorway looking concerned.
“You know what, just … try not to lose your dogs again, okay?” The man starts to turn away, his eyes telling me that he'd rather be out rounding up strays than dealing with his nightmare. I don't blame 'im. Hell, where do I sign up for that shit?
“Everything okay in there, Zayden?” Brooke asks as she slings her coat back on and shrugs it over her shoulders. “Tinley and I were thinking of going out and grabbing a drink if that's okay?”
“Um.” I ruffle my hair and bite my bottom lip as Brooke stares me down with those crazy beautiful eyes of hers. “Sure thing. What time do you think you'll be back? I need to run over to my brother's place and check on the empty duplex.”
What I really want to say is please, don't go out with this chick. Hang with me, and I'll show you a better time. If I don't spend more time with Brooke, fuck these feelings out of my system, I'm going to be in serious trouble. Like, even now I'm looking at her in those big black glasses of hers like she's the cutest fucking thing since sliced bread.