“Anyway, it’s time for dinner. We’re making pizzas, right?” Shanice asks.
“The dough’s been sitting out, so it should be ready to go,” I tell them. “I’m just going to go down the hall …”
My words trail off as there’s a knock at the front door.
“Maybe it’s Santa,” Meghan jokes.
That gets Randy excited, and he starts running to the door, yelling, “Santa’s here! Santa’s here!”
“Randy, don’t—” Shanice and I say at the same time he gets to the door and pulls it open.
My heart moves up into my throat. In the few seconds it takes me to compose myself, Jake, Shanice’s husband, stoops, getting eye level with Randy.
“Hi, son,” he greets, smiling.
“Daddy!” Randy throws himself into his father’s arms.
I turn to look for Shanice. She’s standing there, stone still, watching what should be a happy scene of her son hugging her husband.
“You didn’t think Daddy would miss Christmas with you, did you?”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Meghan’s tersely vocalized question pulls Jake’s attention up at her and awakens Shanice out of her stupor.
“Meghan, take Randy and Charlotte down the hall, please,” Shanice orders, practically pushing Randy in her direction.
I hand Charlotte to Meghan as well. After some more nudging from her sister, Meghan listens, taking both of the kids down the hallway. But not before she gives Jake another stink eye.
I turn back to face Jake. There’s no way he’s up to any good, and I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.
“Hi, Shanice,” he says, slowly rising to his full height again. When Shanice doesn’t say anything, his eyes move over her shoulder to me.
“Can we talk alone?” he asks her but looks at me.
I cross my arms over my chest.
Shanice glances at me over her shoulder. “Can you stay?”
That’s how I know she doesn’t feel safe being alone with him. Not to mention she’s probably told him that she doesn’t want to see him right now and yet he’s still shown up, uninvited and unannounced.
“As long as you want me to, I’ll be right here, baby girl.”
I also start searching my surroundings with my gaze for the nearest possible weapon. Ever since Randy opened that door and I saw who it was, I’ve been on edge.
“Shanice, this is ridiculous. We’re married, and we can’t even have a conversation alone?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”
His shoulders slump. “I came all of this way. At least let me come inside and spend Christmas Eve with my family.”
“No,” she says, her hand pressing against his chest, stopping him. “It would only be confusing for the children.”
“Confusing? What is confusing about their mother and father being together on Christmas?”
“The fact that we’re not together,” Shanice counters. “I told you I needed space and time. You showing up like this is not giving me that.”
“Shanice, I’ve been patient,” he says, his voice noticeably losing its cool. “It’s been a week since you packed up my son and daughter, without a word, and left. Didn’t tell me where you were going or with who or for how long you’d be gone.
