The 'Burg: Hold On Part 91

In other words, I might have succeeded a little bit in tamping down my fury.

But I didn't hold tight enough to the reins.

I rounded Merry, did it with velocity, but got no further when his fingers caught the back waistband of my jeans and I came up short.

I didn't need proximity. I wasn't going to belt a b.i.t.c.h who was holding a baby.

I had the use of my mouth.

So I used it.

"Are you f.u.c.king out of your mind?" I asked.

She turned to me, face contorted with what appeared to be more rage than I had.

"Where's my husband?" she bit back.

"I don't f.u.c.king know," I answered.

"Refrain from cursing in front of my children," she ordered.

"Get your kids outta my yard and I won't have to," I retorted.

"I want to talk to my husband," she demanded.

"Then find him wherever he is and talk to him, something you're not gonna be able to do here, seeing as he isn't here," I returned.

"He's stopped going to meetings," she declared on a toss of her hair.

"I don't even know what you mean, but whatever you mean, I don't care," I replied.

She bent my way. "Meetings," she hissed. "To keep out the devil."

"My guess, NA," Colt waded in to explain.

Oh c.r.a.p.

"And he's also stopped coming home," Peggy went on.

s.h.i.+t.

I took a small step back as what was happening here penetrated.

And what was happening here was not good.

"Is he here?" she asked.

"Like I said, Peggy, no," I answered far more calmly. "I haven't heard from him in a while."

"He hasn't been home in over a week," she informed me, like this was my fault.

I said nothing.

She kept the information flowing. "He also hasn't been to work."

Oh man.

She was screwed.

"It's his son's birthday party. I was certain he'd be here," she declared.

It was my turn to share some information.

"Then you don't know Trent, Peg, because he doesn't give a s.h.i.+t about his son."

"He's his father," she snapped. "A father goes to his son's birthday party."

"He hasn't been to one yet," I reminded her.

"That's because you," she leaned toward me, "wouldn't let him."

I drew in breath.

I had to hold on and not get mad again. She was up s.h.i.+t's creek. She knew it but was denying it and looking for someone to blame or take it out on.

But in the end, she'd go home to betrayal and abandonment.

When she was gone, I'd go into my house to watch my kid eat cake and open presents, my man at my side and everyone we loved who loved us back crammed in my little Janis Joplin living room.

So I could find it in me to be patient.

"That's because Ethan wasn't comfortable with it," I explained, something she well knew.

"That's because you weren't comfortable with us being a part of your son's life," she fired back. "Trent wanted more."

"Peg, seriously, think about it. You wanted more."

"Trent wanted it," she hissed.

"Trent is the guy who knocked up his girlfriend. That's it. Even with the minimal effort he put into winning his son, all of it at your demand, so all of it really for you, he's always just been the guy who knocked up his girlfriend."

"That's not true," she snapped.

"He's the guy who knocked up his girlfriend," I repeated quietly. "He's only been playing at being a father because it made you happy." I glanced swiftly at her kids. "And I think that hasn't changed."

She lifted her chin and reiterated, "That's not true."

I looked at her with her kids in my yard and saw bravado.

She was giving it her all.

But she couldn't hide it.

Her husband, a recovering addict, had disappeared. She had a part-time job and two young kids.

She was terrified.

I knew that feeling.

Something moved over her face.

I braced.

"He emptied our bank account."

Oh s.h.i.+t.

"Peg-" I began.

She tossed her hair again and spoke over me. "He was angry about the last visit we had here. We fought. He told me I was pus.h.i.+ng too hard with Ethan and with him, whatever that means. How can you push a father too hard to be a father?"

It sucked that in that moment, I cared that it sucked for Peggy she was getting this wake-up call.

"He told me I needed to cool it because you were dating a police officer," she kept going. "Then he became distant. Then he was just..." She threw out a hand. "Gone."

I drew in breath.

Before I could speak, Merry did.

"It's Ethan's party. Your husband isn't here. I completely understand how his recent behavior and him not coming home is concerning you, but as unkind as you might think this is, it's Ethan's day and we need to focus on Ethan. We're all sorry that you're going through this, but it's highly unlikely your husband will show up here or contact Cher or Ethan. However, if he does, the only thing we can give you is our promise we'll notify you. Other than that, your problems are yours, Mrs. Schott. You need to take them elsewhere."

I thought that was kind of harsh, though it was all true and someone had to say it. And it was cool that Merry made it so it wasn't me who had to be the b.i.t.c.h to get her gone so we could get back to my kid.

But as he said it, Peggy stared up at Merry. The instant he was done talking, she looked to me.

The bravado was gone.

The fear was everywhere, all over her face, in the line of her body, even s.h.i.+mmering in the air.

Her little boy felt it and started fretting.

"He might be using," she whispered to me.

"Addicts do that," I said carefully. "They mess up. But he's been clean a long time, Peg. Maybe if you find him, you can get him back on the right road."

"People at church are helping me. We've been trying. Looking everywhere. Where he used to go. Where they know people go. Talking to people who know where people are. We can't find him," she shared.

"I-" I began.

"Mrs. Schott," Merry cut me off. "We got an eleven-year-old's birthday party happening in that house. I'm sorry, but we need to get back to Ethan and you need to be on your way."

She looked up at Merry, bouncing her boy up on her hip. He was about to lose it and start bawling, I could tell.

"But my husband has left me," she told Merry.

"Do you have family? Friends?" Colt asked.

She looked to Colt. "Of course."

"Then go home and call them."

She looked beyond Colt to my house. "I was sure he'd be here."

It was sad-those two kids of hers-tragic, even.

But she'd been married to him for years and she didn't know Trent at all, which meant Merry was right.

Her problems were hers.

"I gotta get back to Ethan, Peg, but I'll help you get the kids in the car before I do. Okay?" I offered.

Her eyes drifted to me.

They were br.i.m.m.i.n.g with tears.

s.h.i.+t.

"We got her. You get in there."

I turned my head and saw Dusty and Rocky moving our way.

Cal was in the yard not too far from Merry and Colt. Mom, Tanner, and Mike were standing on the stoop. Ryker was also in the yard, arms crossed on his chest, looking grouchy. Ryan wasn't too far away, looking like he was trying to keep some distance from Ryker but also be close to me should I need him.

Rocky went right to Peg's son on her hip.

Dusty went after the stroller.

And I took that moment to glory in another boon. Not one Merry gave me. One I'd earned myself.

I had really f.u.c.king awesome friends.

(Yes, even Ryker.) "Now, let's get you in your van," Rocky urged.

"Go," Dusty ordered me, commandeering the stroller and turning it down the walk. "Get on in there. Light up the candles. We'll have our cake when we get back. But save opening the presents. That's always the best part."

I nodded, the movement feeling weird, wooden. At first, I didn't know why.

Watching Rocky bounce Trent's possibly now fatherless son on her hip while she guided a lost Peggy to her van, following Dusty, I figured it out.