The Friends We Keep

Can’t make tomorrow. Sorry. Next time for sure.

Sadness mingled with her fury. Because in the morning, she was going to have to tell her son that his father wouldn’t be coming to see him. There would be no outing with Eric, no time for Tyler to see his dad.

The real killer was, Tyler wouldn’t mind. He would shrug and go back to whatever it was he’d been doing. Because Eric canceled more often than not and Tyler cared less and less about seeing the man.

The disconnection had started long before the divorce, Nicole thought, somewhere around the time when Eric had begun writing his screenplay. He’d pulled back from his family—spending his time surfing, writing or going to classes and his critique group. Then after he sold the screenplay, he’d been busy with revisions and a new project. She and Tyler had become less and less important.

She’d thought she would have to fight him for custody, but Eric hadn’t wanted more than one Sunday, every other week. That was it. And he blew off those days more and more.

She reached for her phone but instead of texting her ex, she sent a message to Hayley.

The bastard blew off his kid again. Is it wrong that I hate him?

Hayley’s response came in seconds. No, but if it makes you feel better, I’ll hate him for you. Doing okay?

I’ll get through it. Thanks.

Nicole sank onto the sofa, drew her legs to her chest, and rested her head on her knees. If it wasn’t for her friends, she wasn’t sure how she would have survived the past year. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She and Eric were supposed to have been a family. That was what she’d always wanted, always hoped for. She hadn’t known her own father. He’d left his family before she was born. With Eric, back when he was a software engineer, she thought she’d found someone good. Someone stable. Someone who would be there for their children.

She’d been wrong. About all of it. Some of that was on her, but some of it was purely him. He didn’t care about his son. That was the bottom line.

She kept hoping he would change. That he would realize what he was missing. But so far there was no hint that he was having second thoughts about their custody arrangements. And Tyler no longer talked about missing his dad.

She had a sinking feeling that by the time Eric woke up to what he’d missed, it would be too late. That Tyler would be unreachable. But even worse was the very good chance that Eric would never care. Never ask for a second chance. That this was as good as it got.

She looked up at the Brad the Dragon stuffed animal sitting on a bookshelf by the TV. The creature was a happy shade of red, with big blue eyes. She glared at the dragon.

“This is all your fault,” she whispered. And while she knew it wasn’t, sometimes it felt really good to have someone to blame.

*

“Why does Boomer smell like corn chips?” Kennedy asked from her place on the floor next to the dog.

“I have no idea.”

Gabby thought about pointing out that it was better than how most dogs smelled, but knew better than to encourage smell talk. It would lead to an entire discussion on farts, burps and other things that were hilarious, but often led to awkward moments around other people. She was still recovering from the classic, “That lady farted” event from three weeks ago at the grocery store. She’d been embarrassed, the older woman had been embarrassed and the twins had thought the situation was the funniest thing ever. They told nearly everyone they saw. Which was why she did her level best to not take them to the grocery store any more than necessary.

She held up a pink T-shirt. “One of my favorites,” she said.

Kenzie, who was combing an incredibly patient Jasmine, nodded. “Me, too.”

Kennedy didn’t bother answering. While she was normally the twin in charge, when it came to clothes, Kenzie was the spokestwin. Gabby wasn’t sure how they made up their rules but she mostly went along with them.

“And we are done,” she said, staring at the five outfits, times two, chosen for the upcoming week.

In an effort to create order from chaos, when the girls had started preschool, she’d made it a point to choose their outfits in advance. Now it was something they did together every Sunday afternoon. It helped with the morning craziness and was a fun time for the three of them to have girl talk.

The twins abandoned their pets to put their outfits away in a special drawer in each of their dressers. When they were done, they looked at her expectantly.

“Daddy’s next,” Gabby said brightly.