I can’t help but wonder if Jerilyn interferes with Katie calling Nolan, because I wouldn’t put it past the bitch.
The five of us—including Caine—all exchange a nervous look as Katie holds the phone and waits for it to connect.
Katie doesn’t even ease into it. With all the enthusiasm of a six-year-old, she immediately blasts into a greeting and telling her all about them now living with us, and makes our future house sound like it’s going to be a unicorn-filled castle, even though we haven’t even drawn the first rough sketch yet.
After about ten minutes of non-stop chatter, she pauses. “Okay, Mommy. Love you! Here’s Daddy.” She turns to Nolan. “She wants to talk to you.”
“Thank you, sweetie.” Katie runs back to the sprinkler.
He’s looking at me as he answers. “Yeah?” I see him tense up, and realize Zoey’s absolutely right. Whenever he’s got to talk to Jerilyn on the phone, he always gets this tight, pinched look on his face.
“Because it’s been a busy week, and I honestly didn’t think about telling you before now. Yes, our new address is Arlo and Zoey’s. You have that. … Because it’s going to save me a lot of money, and because they’re—” He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Notyour call, Jerilyn,” he says, and I silently cheer as I hear him get testy with her.
“I didn’t owe you advanced warning about this. I’m closer to her school, her school hasn’t changed, and she hasn’t even been here a full twenty-four hours yet. Our divorce decree says seventy-two hours. … That’s right, I did talk to my attorney. I was going to let you know later this weekend, and—”
He meets my gaze and I can see him struggling not to throw his damn phone. “Jerilyn,” he says, his tone dropping into a deeper register. “I don’t owe youanyexplanations about my thought processes. I also don’t report to you about my whereabouts when Katie’s not with me. That’s not your business. I have four witnesses sitting here listening to me tell you Katie’s new official address is Arlo and Zoey’s address. Consider yourself notified. I’ll follow up with an e-mail and text as soon as we end this conversation. Which is about to happen now, unless you have something else?”
Apparently not, because he suddenly looks at his phone, as if checking to see if the call dropped. “Bitch,” he mutters after glancing over his shoulder to make sure Katie’s out of earshot.
“She pissed?” I can’t hold back my grin.
He snorts. “When isn’t she?” He taps out a text, copies it, and sends it, presumably to her. Then he swipes into his e-mail and pastes the same message into it and hits send.
“There,” he mutters when he finishes. “Consider yourself notified, bitch.”
Zoey is practically beaming, and she winks at him. “Good job, you,” she says. “You handled that well and without screaming. I’m proud of you.”
He sighs. “I’m proud of me, too. Ireallywanted to throw my phone.”
