Damn Sundays.
They were always my busiest days because I had to prepare for the week ahead. My career as a prosecuting attorney for the state of Michigan had been challenging because I had three children; they were two, four, and six. I was the most sought-after in the state because of my 85 percent conviction rate.
My husband and father of my children, Leo, was a fireman. We had been together since our sophomore year in college, and our life together was amazing, up until I got pregnant with our last baby, Carlee. That was when things between us became complicated.
He was mostly away from home,supposedlyputting out fires, while I was doing the same at the office. I knew why he stayed away from home so much. It was because he couldn’t handle the hustle and bustle of our chaotic home half the time, and I honestly didn’t blame him.
While our children were the best thing to ever happen to me, they were a handful. They weren’t bad children; they were just busy bodies who couldn’t stay in one spot if they tried. Tryingto maintain a home, a marriage, a career, and children was rough on me. So, I hired Shelly as a nanny, and she had been a lifesaver. Sometimes, my mother would keep them, but as of late, she had been outside, living her best life, and I couldn’t be mad at her. I just wished I didn’t have to utilize Ms. Shelly so much.
She may have been doing it for over twenty years, but I could see the wear and tear in her eyes. My children were a handful, and I hated having to pay Ms. Shelly to look after them seven days a week, even though she never complained.
I pulled the clothes from the dryer, then placed them inside the laundry basket while balancing the phone between my ear and shoulder. Nora Foxx, my colleague, explained the details of Boris “Blue” Howard’s case. He was on trial for murder, and we were extremely close to closing this case.
“The man is guilty, and I’m going to prove it. We already have the murder weapon with his prints on it. There is nothing that the defense can come up with that’ll save him at this point,” I said.
“Exactly. We got this in the bag.” I nodded, although she couldn’t see me.
“Anyway, how’re those beautiful babies doing?”
“Driving me to the crazy, girl. With this case and then my home life, I am long overdue for a vacation.”
“Is Leo showing up at all?” she asked.
“Leo shows up whenever he wants food and sex. I swear, if I didn’t understand his demanding career, I’d think he was cheating on me.”
Nora laughed. “No way! That man loves you way too much to even think about another woman.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes, I don’t feel it. Like right now, he’s upstairs, knocked the hell out, while the nanny and I are getting the house and kids together. I don’t expect him to help out, butat least acknowledge his children before he rushes off to work,” I fussed, grabbing the basket of clothes and taking them upstairs to fold them.
“Have you tried talking to him about it?”
“Psh, multiple times. I guess I have to accept what it is now. I can’t make him be a father if it isn’t what he wants.”
“That’s not fair, Alicia. He helped create them, so he should have the same responsibility as you do in helping raise them.”
“I know, Nora . . . I just don’t want to keep arguing about the same thing. Leo’s a good man. Maybe not the best family man, but I know he loves me and our children. I just have to do what I have to do as a mother. Just as I’ve been doing.”
“I hear you, friend. Let me finish up these notes. I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.”
“Okay, babe. Talk to you later.” I allowed the phone to drop into the basket as I made my way up the stairs. As soon as I made it to the top, Carsyn rolled right over my foot with his hoverboard.
“Ouch! Carsyn!” I yelled, dropping the basket and grabbing my foot.
“Sorry, Mommy!” He hurried over to me, taking my foot in his hand and rubbing it.
I smiled down at him, even though I was in pain. “It’s okay, baby boy. But where did I tell you to ride your toy?”
“In the backyard, but Ms. Shelly said I couldn’t go out until I brush my teeth and get dressed.”
“I sure did, but that doesn’t mean I said ride it in the house, Carsyn,” Ms. Shelly said, coming out of the kitchen.
“I know,” he said solemnly. His cute pout reminded me so much of his father that it melted my heart immediately.
I bent down and kissed his cheek. “It’s okay, baby. Just go get cleaned up and dressed, then you can go outside and play.”
“Can I go too?” Chloe, my four-year-old, asked, coming out of the kitchen with chocolate syrup on her fingers.
“Oh, goodness, Chloe,” I said, shaking my head.
