“Hey, Mona,” he said as casually as he could after he’d thumbed the phone to answer it.
“Austin,” said Mona, by way of greeting. “I guess I forgot the time difference, but whatever. I have news. Roger proposed to me last night.”
Austin blinked at the streams of sunlight coming in through the open curtains, dappled with tree-shade, scented with early morning damp.
“Did you hear me?” she asked, irritation already lacing her voice. “We’re getting married so I won’t be getting alimony any more. I could use some help with the wedding, which is going to be this week in New Orleans, so I need you to still send me some money.”
“Uh—”
“You’re not saying anything,” said Mona, the words accompanied by that hesitant laugh, like she wanted to make a joke of everything so she could get her way without hardly trying.
“I just got up, Mona,” he said. “And I’m still trying to wrap my mind around all of this. What about Bea?”
He found he couldn’t imagine sending Bea off in a plane by herself to New Orleans, or anywhere for that matter. It wasn’t just the flight, it was the destination and the reason for it.
“What about her?”
Austin could almost imagine Mona rolling her eyes as she examined her manicured nails, looking for any flaw, concentrating on that because she already knew all of Austin’s flaws. Her mind was probably full of wedding plans, as well, without the least bit of interest in Bea or her welfare.
“So can you send me the money or what?”
There was a sound in the background, and maybe it was from a high energy, never-ending party in the street. Or maybe it was Roger Colchet, telling Mona he wanted to fuck her in the next five minutes or else. At any rate, only half of Mona’s attention was on her conversation with her ex-husband.
Mona’s alimony and child support costs were high, but then, as an accountant, he made a lot of money. Or he used to, since while the ranch paid pretty well, it wasn’t as much as his old job. But sure, he could send her a month’s worth of alimony as a parting gift to help her with the wedding.
That would leave him with the responsibility of child support costs, which—
Like a runaway truck, came the idea of it—if he could get Mona to agree, Bea could behis. He could take care of her, make her smile, make sure she never had to wear pink, unless she wanted it, and when,ifshe wanted her ears pierced, he’d make sure it was done right at a nice, clean tattoo parlor, which Mona had always objected to.
On the heels ofthat, like a blow to his chest, came the realization that he had no idea where they would live. Surely he’d have to get a different job, rent an apartment somewhere, find a good school for Bea, all the things he wanted to do as a responsible parent.
But still—Mona might go for it, if he phrased it right—and hell, didn’t he have an awful lot of experience doing that? And wouldn’t Bea, his honeybee, his magical daughter, be better off with him than with Mona and Roger?
“Say, Mona,” he said as casually as he could, given that his heart was thumping. “I have an idea.”
“What’s that?” she asked. “Does it involve you sending me a check overnight? Or a bank wire?”
“It’s even better,” said Austin. “I would think that maybe you want to be alone with your new husband for a few months, maybe a year. Does that sound about right?”
“Roger did say—” Mona broke off, making that humming sound she did when figuring out what might benefit her. “He did say he’d rather start with a new family, rather than somebody’s leftovers—”
“Did he say that?” asked Austin, moved to reach through the phone to shove Mona aside so he could punch Roger over and over.
“Well, maybe not that.” Mona laughed that laugh again, and Austin clamped hard on his anger. The trick to getting Mona to doing what he wanted was to make it seem like he was thinking of her needs, thinking of what Mona wanted.
“At any rate,” he said, then took a breath. “If you send her to me and hand over total custody, I’ll wire you that money first thing after I get the papers to sign.”
“Are you saying you want her?” asked Mona. “But we have joint custody. I’m her mother, you know.”
Affronted, Mona was speaking faster and faster, and Austin knew he had to say something, say therightthing, to settle her down, and get her to send those papers. Now that the idea was in his heart, he wanted Bea, and he would do anything to keep her.
“Yes, I want her,” he said, as calmly as he could, given that his heart was beating so hard. “Send the papers. I’ll sign and send them back with a bank wire. Then you can hire a jazz band and get married beneath trees draped with Spanish moss and everything. Think about it—bet you no one in Thornton will have a wild wedding like that, right?”
There was silence on the other end of the line, as if Mona was thinking this over, like she suddenly wasn’t sure she wanted to give Bea up, even though it was obvious to Austin that Mona hadn’t the slightest interest in being a real mother to Bea. And, as always, Mona was probably thinking of how this would benefit her before anybody else.
Austin knew to go on almost as if everything was settled, like it was just about a done deal. Almost like the papers were already signed, and a copy was in the lawyer’s office.
“What do you think, Mona, my dear?” he asked in his brightest everything-is-perfect voice. “It sounds great to me, except for the fact that buying a wedding dress in New Orleans will be very expensive, so I don’t know—”
