The Escape Collection: (The Escape Collection) (43 page)

Well, her behavior was certainly unacceptable and unreasonable, so I took the book’s advice and crouched down to look Kayla in the eye. It was time for a different approach.
 

“No, Kayla. No more. It’s time to go,” I said, in my best “I-mean-business” voice.
 

She didn’t react. In fact, she only stared at me, and for a half a second I felt a slight glow of pride. The book worked. I’d successfully handled the situation and it wasn’t that hard at all. I stood up, adjusted my purse strap over my shoulder and without looking down, held out my hand and said, “Come on, let’s go.”
 

I waited.
 

She didn’t take my hand.
 

I turned around and was totally unprepared for Kayla’s face, which was an unnatural shade somewhere between fuchsia and plum purple. This was not the way it was supposed to go.

“Kayla? Honey?” I crouched in front of her again, and spoke as quickly as I could, trying to diffuse her before she blew. “Sweetie, open your eyes. We can talk about it.”

 
Forget about not negotiating. If Kayla was holding her breath, it meant one thing, I was not going to like it when she finally took one.
 

“Okay, maybe we can get a little bit more cotton candy to take home.”
 

But she didn’t hear me because Kayla picked that exact moment to take her breath, followed a split second later by a glass-shattering scream.
 

“Kayla, stop. Please stop.” I reached for her and tried rubbing her arms because that sometimes worked.
 

She wrenched away from me and fell to the floor yelling, “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me! I hate you!”

There was nothing left to do. I sank to my knees and covered my face with my hands.
 

Breathe. Deep breaths, I told myself. Pull yourself together. It’ll be okay. No one’s watching.
 

“Becca?” A voice from behind me pushed past Kayla’s screams.

Shit.
 

I didn’t want to but I slid my fingers open and peered through them, directly into the perfectly painted eyes that belonged to Denise, my next door neighbor and one of the many women I loved to hate.

“You look like you could use some help,” Denise said. Her gaze flicked to Kayla, who was writhing on the floor, hollering at top volume. “Is there anything I can do?”

I forced a smile to my face and pushed myself up. This woman did not need to see what a mess I was. “What a surprise running into you.” I dusted off my knees. “Everything’s just fine. Kayla’s a little tired is all.”
 

“It looks like—”

“Everything’s fine, Denise,” I repeated, this time with a little edge.
 

“Kayla, sweetie,” Denise said in her sugar-sweet voice. “Did you know we just got a new kitten? Maybe you could come over and see it?”
 

Seriously? A kitten?
 

With the magic promise of a baby animal, Kayla’s screams lessened. She wiped her nose on her sleeve.
 

“What’s his name?” she said.
 

“It’s a girl. And I haven’t decided on a name yet. Do you have any ideas?”
 

Kayla looked at my annoying neighbor and smiled. Cotton candy forgotten. Just. Like. That.

“Can I?” Kayla asked me. “Can I go see the kitten?”

“We have to get Jordan,” I said. The moment the words were out of my mouth, Kayla’s face began to morph again.
 

“Becca, surely she can come for—“

“Not today,” I said.
 

Kayla’s screaming fired up again. Stronger now.
 

“I just thought—“

“I know what you thought, Denise,” I said.
 

Negotiations over, I turned my back, bent down and hoisted Kayla over my shoulder. Pinning her as best I could with one hand, I made my way to the exit. With every step I took, I kept my eyes forward, avoiding the pitiful stares of the other parents, who no doubt were watching my staggered procession as Kayla’s fists and feet pounded into my back and chest simultaneously.

***

“Mother, make her stop.”
 

“I would if I could, Jordan,” I said between gritted teeth. It had taken me almost five minutes to wrestle Kayla into her car seat at the mall. But being restrained hadn’t done anything to help calm her down. For such a small girl, her screams had staying power. She was still madly kicking at the back of my seat while hollering unintelligible things. Every once in a while I could make out an, “I hate you.” But mostly it was noise that was making my pulse pound in my temple, giving me a headache that not even the strongest drugs would touch.
 

“Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is when my friends hear that?” Jordan stabbed her finger in the air towards her sister in the back seat. “I mean, Mac was standing right there when you picked me up, Mother.”

“Who’s Mac?”

“You have to do something about her.”
 

“Can’t do anything,” I said. “Who’s Mac?”

Jordan let out a sigh that made it clear I was the un-coolest person in the universe. “Mac’s a friend,” she said after a moment.
 

I’m not stupid—a fact Jordan had yet to figure out. At a stoplight, I took a moment to glance over at her. Her face was flushed under the little amount of make-up I let her wear. “Just a friend?”

“Mother, please.”
 

“You know you can talk to me.” For a moment I thought I saw a change in her carefully constructed tough girl act.

“The light,” she said. “It’s green.”

I faced forward again and pressed the gas.
 

“Besides,” she said. “Even if there was something to talk about, you wouldn’t hear me over her.” Jordan spun around in her seat and yelled, “Shut up, twerp.”
 

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jordan reach into her backpack, pull out a pack of gum and toss it into the back seat at Kayla.
 

Kayla’s cries turned to sniffles and I heard the sound of the wrapper tearing open.
 

“Thanks, Jordan,” I said.
 

“Whatever.” She turned and faced out the window.
 

When I looked in the rearview mirror at my youngest, tears still streaking down her face, I could’ve sworn I saw the glimpse of a smirk.
 

Maybe my girls were united in driving me crazy.

Chapter 3

Jon’s car was in the driveway.
 

Lovely.

It’s not that I didn’t like it when he came home early, but, well, I didn’t like it. And with Kayla still sniffling in the back seat and Jordan in a mood, the last thing I needed was Jon getting in my space while I tried to cook dinner and save at least part of the day.
 

Before I’d even come to a complete stop, Jordan was out of the car and headed up the walk. As soon as I opened Kayla’s door, and she hopped out.

“Daddy’s home!” She ran past her sister and into the house, apparently forgetting that she was supposed to be screaming at me.
 

I gathered my things, as well as theirs, and followed them into the house. I walked in the door just as Jon said, “Sure, you can watch TV.”
 

“Thanks, Dad.” Jordan stood on her toes to give Jon, who was holding Kayla, a kiss on the cheek.

“Wait a minute,” I said, dumping the backpacks. “Don’t you have homework?”

“Mother, I just—“

“Do you?”

Jordan’s shoulders sagged and she narrowed her eyes in the way only a teenager can. “Yes.” She bent to retrieve her bag from the floor.
 

“I don’t see why she can’t watch a little TV first,” Jon said. “After all, it’s been a long day. A little bit of unwind time would probably be good.” He flashed his oldest a smile.

“Thanks, Dad.” Jordan dropped her bag again and ran out of the room before I could argue.
 

“Perfect, Jon. Just perfect.” I turned to squeeze past him to get to the kitchen.

“What?”

“Would it kill you to back me up once in a while?”
 

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” he said behind me. Then to Kayla he said, “Why don’t you go watch TV with your sister for a bit? I need to talk to Mom.”

Kayla knew she wasn’t allowed to watch television after a freak-out. I stopped and listened, but didn’t turn around.
 

“Okay, Daddy,” she said and I heard her footsteps running down the hall.
 

Whatever. I rubbed my temple. I needed something for the throbbing that would not stop.
 

I continued walking.
 

“Rough day?” Jon asked as I opened the cupboard and reached for the Advil bottle.
 

I filled a glass of water, swallowed two pills and slumped into a chair at the table before answering him. “Yup, Kayla was in fine form. How was yours?”

“Not too bad. Signed a new client today. It should be a good commission and a pretty easy sell.” Jon had been in real estate since I’d met him and he was good at it, too. Even with the whole world in a recession, he somehow managed to continue buying and selling houses. I’m sure his success had something to do with his charm, and his natural knack for flirting probably didn’t hurt either. It used to bother me when I saw him with clients, but I’d learned to ignore it. I’d learned to ignore a lot of things.

“I’m glad you had a good day,” I said and put my head down on the table.
 

“Hey, it can’t be that bad,” Jon said, and a moment later his hands were on my shoulders, working out the tension. I groaned. His fingers were like magic, melting my muscles. “Feel good?” he asked and the tone of his voice shifted. I ignored it.

“It does, thank you.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I really don’t.”
 

“Okay, well, the girls are happy now.” He stopped rubbing and slid into a chair across from me.
 

“I really don’t know why I bother,” I said. “Kayla knows she’s not allowed screens after a tantrum and Jordan has homework, I told you that.”

“I’m sorry,” he said and picked up the newspaper.

“You’re sorry?”

“Sure.” He shrugged. “I was just trying to help. You looked like you could use it. But if you don’t want my help, I won’t.”

“Really?” I said. “Did you just say that?”

I waited for him to put down the paper. When he didn’t, I snatched it from him. “You think I can’t handle my kids, don’t you? Do I tell you how to do your job, Mr. Real Estate?”

“Wait a minute.” He held his hands in front of him. “That’s not what I said at all. I think you do a great job with the kids. But everyone needs a little help once in a while, and it’s okay. Even I have an assistant.”

Oh, I knew Donna all right. A tiny little blond bitch. To be fair, she’d never been anything but sweet as honey to me, but anyone who’s a size two with boobs that big has to be a bitch. Jon should have known better than to mention her to me. It didn’t take a genius to figure out his assistant was interested in assisting him with a whole lot more than just paperwork. Once, when I’d told Jon what I thought, he’d laughed. Maybe a little too much.
 

“Becca,” he said, clearly realizing his mistake. “Like I said, everyone needs a little help once in a while, especially when Kayla fires up. What set it off this time?”

I shot him a look, but let it go. “The mall,” I said and waved my hand. “It doesn’t matter anymore. But my head…”
 

Jon pushed up from the table. “That I can help with,” he said and went to the counter. He grabbed a bottle of wine we’d started a few nights ago, took two glasses out of the cupboard, and poured us each one.
 

“It’s not even five,” I said when he handed me the wine.

“Cheers.” Jon smiled and held his glass out.
 

What the hell.
 

I raised my glass. “Cheers.”

Jon ordered a pizza for dinner. I’m sure he recognized that I was not about to cook anything. Besides, he knew me well enough to know that if I’d had a particularly rough day with the girls, it was take-out or peanut butter sandwiches.
 

God forbid he cook anything. I even bought him a cookbook once, as a hint. Grill Zone: A Man’s Guide To Embracing The Flame. I thought he’d like it; after all, didn’t most men like to be master of the grill? He never said, but I’m pretty sure he thought I was insulting his somewhat lame efforts of contributing to hamburger night. He was right, of course. At any rate, he never did make anything out of it.

By the time dinner arrived, Kayla had completely calmed down and had forgotten about her meltdown. Jordan was happy because we were having pizza and she’d even promised Kayla to braid her hair after bath time. It was almost happy. I liked moments like those. Too bad they didn’t happen more often.

“I’m stuffed,” Jon said at the exact moment that I reached for another piece of double pepperoni. “You must be hungry tonight,” he added.

I dropped the pizza and glared at him. “What does that mean?”

“It means you must be hungry,” Jon said.
 

“Just because I’m having another piece?” I pushed my plate away and got up from the table. I knew I shouldn’t have another piece; I’d already had two, but I didn’t need Jon commenting on it.

“Becca.”

“I’m not hungry anymore,” I said. “It’s getting late, anyway. Kayla needs to have a bath and get ready for bed.” I gathered up the dishes.

“I wasn’t trying to—” Jon said, but I cut him off with a look.

“Daddy, will you give me my bath?” Kayla asked.
 

He looked at me one more time and for a moment I thought he was going to try to say something else. He knew how sensitive I was about the extra pounds that wouldn’t seem to budge after Kayla was born. I didn’t care how many times he said they made me look curvy. I didn’t believe him.

“Come on, Kay,” he said, looking away from me. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”