The Friends We Keep

“And you?” Cecelia asked.

Nicole rolled her eyes. “I’m counting the minutes, too, but for different reasons.”

“You’re not going to attack him or anything, are you? I’d hate to read about you being arrested.”

The question, meant to be funny, offered a visual that Nicole found tempting. Not being arrested. Despite the guilty pleasure of the show Orange Is the New Black, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t do well in jail. Or prison. Either, really. But attacking Jairus Sterenberg was a different matter. She wouldn’t mind smacking him really hard. Or maybe just giving him a piece of her mind. The angry, annoyed part.

“I will not attack him, I promise. Tyler loves his Brad the Dragon books and I would never hurt my son.”

“What if he didn’t find out?” Cecelia teased. She held up one hand. “I’ll stop now. It’s just, you really hate the guy.”

“I don’t hate him,” Nicole said, hoping it was true. “How can I hate someone I’ve never met? It’s just...” She shook her head. “That whole empire of his. The article I read on him a while back said he was a pretty awful person, making money off of kids. Which means he’s little more than a weasel rat bastard who would merchandise air if he could figure out a way.”

Brad the Dragon had started life in picture books and was now also in chapter books. And the merchandising! There were stuffed animals and clothes and sheets and games. The man was wallowing in money, she thought bitterly. All at the expense of kids and parents everywhere.

Worse, so much worse, she’d just discovered he lived in the area. And in what some people would mistakenly claim was a generous offer, he’d held a contest through the parks’ summer programs. The same summer programs where Tyler spent his days.

Kids were invited to write a paper explaining why they loved B the D. The winning camper and his or her class got a personal visit from Jairus himself, along with an autographed book.

Tyler had been thrilled to find out about the contest and had spent two weeks perfecting his entry. Nicole would know—she’d helped him every step of the way. They’d come up with a B the D story line where Brad met Tyler. They had even included pictures.

“I know you don’t think he’s a bad guy,” Nicole said. “But come on. Kids having to write a paper before they can meet the guy? Couldn’t he just show up at the camp like a regular person? But noooo.”

Cecelia laughed. “You have so much energy about that poor man.”

“Trust me, he’s far from poor.”

“Still, what if he’s not evil?”

“Then I’ll feel really, really bad about trashing him.”

“Think that’s likely?” Cecelia asked.

Nicole grinned. “Not a chance.”

She confirmed the upcoming week’s schedule with Cecelia, then went to collect Tyler. She had to admit, if only to herself, that her loathing of B the D’s creator was a recent thing. That in her heart of hearts, she understood that she just might be projecting her feelings onto a man she’d never met.

Nearly two years ago, her then-husband had quit his job to write a screenplay. Something he hadn’t discussed with her or even mentioned until two days after the fact. There’d been no negotiation, no warning. Eric had simply up and quit, leaving her to support their household while he spent his days surfing to “clear his head” before he began writing.

It was right about that time when Nicole had started to find Brad the Dragon and all his merchandise the tiniest bit annoying. What was it about writers? Did they all have to be self-centered jerks? Or was it just the successful ones? Because Eric had gone on to sell his screenplay for the unbelievable amount of one million dollars. And then he’d left her.

“Ready to go?” she asked Tyler.

He stood with his thin arms wrapped around Hayley’s waist as he leaned against her. Hayley hugged him back. The two of them had always been close. Hayley was a kid person down to her bones.

“See you next time,” he told Hayley.

“I can’t wait,” the other woman said. “Have fun meeting Jairus.”

Tyler grinned so broadly, Nicole knew his face had to hurt. “It’s only five more days.”

“Do you know how long that is in minutes?” Hayley asked, then slapped her hand over her mouth as Tyler turned to Nicole.

“Mommy?”

“I’m sorry,” Hayley whispered. “I just made it worse, huh?”

“We’ll survive.”

Tyler rushed over and danced in front of her. “We can know how many minutes?”

“Sure. We can do the math when we get home. We’ll need a calculator.”

Hayley winced. “Now I’m making you do math.”

Nicole hugged her friend. “I love you, even when you make me do math. But when I regrout my bathroom tile, you’ll be the first person I call.”