My mouth opens, then hangs there with nothing to fill it. I don’t like Lyndi; she’s infuriating. She slammed the door on my face, for crying out loud.
“No, I don’t.”
“Give her a break. She’s a single mom, probably doing whatever it takes to meet their needs.”
“I know.”
That’s the worst part. I feel bad about the way I treated Lyndi last night. I was upset and in no condition to confront her about it. When she opened the door, I noticed her hands shaking. She was terrified, probably of me. But I continued with my rant anyway, even after she had tried to apologize. Why do I always turn into a world-class jerk in her presence?
She’s partly to blame. Just the sight of her makes my blood pump faster, which does nothing to calm me down.
“I owe her an apology.” Maybe even a thank you. She did get me out of an awful date.
Collins nods. “I’d say. Maybe try using real words and not caveman words this time. Okay?”
“Hmph.” I’m not a caveman.
Seventeen
Lyndi
IfIhavetoexplain to my child that he can’t pee outside one more time, I’m going to lose my mind.
“But I like to pee on bugs,” Crew insists.
I know. In the last two days, he’s peed on the bugs at the park, at Maddie’s house, the library sidewalk, and in the grocery store parking lot. I’m going to be banned from that place forever.
“You can’t be showing your private parts everywhere you go.”
He scrunches his little nose at me, and dang if isn’t adorable. “But if I show them, then they aren’t private anymore.”
That’s the problem. I rub circles on my temples. I’m convinced half of parenting is just self-preservation gone wrong. And oh, how I went wrong.
“Just don’t pee where people can see you.” I give in to him because I’m exhausted. And it’s all Maddie’s fault. She was wrong about my video dying. It’s only gotten more popular. Last night my phone dinged with notifications until two a.m., when I finally woke up enough to silence it.
“Yay. Thanks, Mom.” Crew cheers and jumps off the couch. Naked, of course. Because if peeing outside is okay, streaking must be par for the course.
Whoo. Mother of the Year right here. I point my finger at him before he can do just that. “Not right now.”
He’s already distracted with his toy, and I begin the daunting task of trying to find something for us for dinner. Healthy doesn’t have to be a consideration at this point; edible is all we need. The options are ramen, grilled cheese, and pickles. Not together, of course.
I wish I could splurge one night, order pizza and bake cookies, maybe even take Crew somewhere fun like an arcade. But that would set me back for weeks. We need every extra penny we can get just to have the luxury of buying simple necessities, like new shoes for Crew.
I’ve been combing through the classifieds, calling around, even wandering downtown looking for help wanted signs. But I can’t find a place willing to work with my schedule. I guess it’s Etsy and online jobs for the foreseeable future.
I access my Etsy app on my phone and check for orders.
I blink. Sixty-seven orders? That can’t be right.
I click on the first order and read their order notes.
CeCe:I want it just like the frosty mom’s.
I slide over the TikTok app and find a popular comment on my dancing video. Someone asked where my necklace was from and three hundred people liked it. Maddie tagged my shop in the bio and people must have found it. I have sixty-seven—scratch that, sixty-eight orders!
Is this real life? If I wish for pizza now, will it land on my doorstep?
Knock. Knock.
