CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The traffic hascleared, or the three accidents, I should say. People in New England seem to think they’re superheroes in the snow with their front-wheel-drive cars. AJ’s truck is a little skittish but it’s only because his pick-up bed is empty—thanks to me canceling our job for the day. We pull down the street of the bus stop just as we see the bus slowly creeping down the hill. Olive is probably upset right now. She doesn’t like when things change or are out of order. It makes her nervous. I step out of the truck just as the bus comes to a stop. The snow is thick and heavy as it covers my head. I pull my hood on and step up beside Charlotte, who looks like an Eskimo.
“You under there?” I nudge my shoulder into hers.
She tugs on the hood of her coat, allowing only a little opening for her eyes to show. “Are the roads bad?” she asks.
“They’re not good.”
The door of the bus squeaks open and Olive jumps off the bottom step right into a mound of snow. Her lip curls as she tiptoes around the big piles that haven’t been plowed yet. “It’s cold!” she shouts, making her way over to me. I wrap my arms around her, doing my best to warm her up.
“Hey, as much as I hate this damsel in distress crap, my washer is leaking and I have a week’s worth of laundry to do. Any chance you can take a look at it tonight?” The last of her question is cut off with a loud heave as Lana swings her arms around Charlotte.
“I lost another toof, Mom!” Lana points to the big gap in the front of her mouth.
“My goodness, you have no more front teeth!” Charlotte says through laughter.
“Do you think the toof fairy will make it in the snow?” Lana asks.
“Yes, she’s magical and strong. She can make it through anything,” Charlotte explains, squatting down in front of her.
“Just like you, Mom. You’re magical and strong and you tell me all the time you can make it through everything. Remember you said it last night when you were crying on the phone?”
Taking in the conversation between Lana and Charlotte, I’m filled with questions as I wonder why she was crying last night and who she was on the phone with. Not that it’s any of my business but I hope she’s okay.
“Lana, start walking with Olive,” she says, standing back up and brushing the snow from her knees.
Charlotte looks over at me, her eyes wide. I’m guessing she’s either hoping I ask or hoping I don’t ask. “Spill it,” I say.
“It’s nothing,” she responds, taking a few steps backward and turning to head home.
I look over to AJ in the truck, waving at him to get his attention. He cracks the window and I shout over, “I’m going to walk home. I’ll see you in a few.” The window closes and the gears grind as he turns the truck around to go down the street.
“Hunter, you don’t have to play this role, remember?” Charlotte says through a shiver.
“Don’t make me beg, Charlotte. What’s going on? And I’m not playing any kind of role. I care about you a lot. You’re the one who doesn’t want to be with me right now...”
She looks at me like I did something wrong or just said something stupid, which seems to be the norm lately. I question if anything intelligent ever comes out of my mouth these days. “And I care about you a lot, but I don’t want to get into it—” She exhales with exaggeration.
“Why were you crying last night?” I ask again.
“You just asked me that...”
“I’m persistent. So, why were you crying last night?” I ask in a softer voice as we catch up to the girls.
“Because that jackass took away my goddamn child support,” Lana says in a mock-adult-Charlotte voice.
Jesus.
“Lana,” Charlotte snaps. “What did I tell you about eavesdropping, and what did I tell you about repeating things you hear me say in the house?”
A strong pout pulls across Lana’s lips, a bad fake pout, “I forgot,” she says. Then, she yells, “Olive! Look!” And the girls run ahead until they reach a snow bank created by a plow. Olive stops and watches as Lana climbs up and then slides down into the street. “Come on, Olive!”
Olive contemplates for a long second, knowing her aversion to the cold snow, but I think she notices the amount of fun Lana is having and decides to join her. Without snow pants, the two girls instantly become soaked from the makeshift slide. Normally, Olive would have a fit about being wet, but evidently neither of them feels it, or they’re having so much fun, they don’t care. If only life as an adult could be so carefree.
Charlotte drops her gloved hands into her deep pockets, walking one step ahead of me. “Are you okay?” I ask.
Her head shakes under her hood and snow dusts off of the material. “Can you fight this in court?” I ask. I don’t know much about divorces or how they work but I can’t imagine whatever is happening isn’t fair.
