Kids are here with me. Long story. Can you bring me a change of clothes to the gym?
Haha, you’re very funny,she replied.
“Say cheese,” I said to the kids. They looked up at the camera with wide eyes and gap-toothed expressions, marker ink staining their hands. I snapped a mug shot of my children and sent it to Vero.
WTF?! I’m on my way.
I pulled up Cartoon Network on Delia’s tablet and set it in front of the kids, making sure they were fully engrossed before calling my mother.
“Finlay? I’m sorry about the kids,” she answered. “Your sister has them. I had to go to the hospital with your father.” Hospital noises quieted in the background, as if she’d stepped outside.
“Delia and Zach are actually with me.”
“What? Where’s Georgia? She promised she would help with the children!”
So had everyone else since my divorce. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve got everything under control. Is Dad okay?”
“He’s fine. Just cranky. The urologist is stuck in traffic on the beltway. I called the nurse’s station and asked them to bring some morphine.”
“He’s in a lot of pain?”
“No, I am. The man’s driving me crazy.”
I laughed. “Try to get some rest. And give Dad a kiss for me. Call me when he’s out of surgery, okay?”
The children were still playing quietly when my mother disconnected. I dialed Steven again. His phone rang straight to voice mail, just like it had last night.
“Where are you?” I asked his recording. “The kids are with me at the police academy. Call me.” I jabbed the red button, swearing an oath to myself that if he wasn’t already dead in a ditch, he would be after I found him.
I stripped out of my dirt-caked clothes, turned the water on high, and ducked under the warm spray, drawing the curtain shut. Muddy brown water swirled down the drain. I pumped a handful of shampoo from the wall dispenser, peeking through the curtain between rinses to make sure the kids were still where I’d left them.
“Finlay?” Vero called out.
“In here!” I shut off the faucet and wrapped a starchy white towel around me.
The kids squealed, cartoons and snacks forgotten as they scrambled to greet Vero. She dropped my gym bag on the bench in time to catch Zach as he jumped. She spun him around, giving them both a squeeze. “What are you two nuggets doing here?” she asked in an overly sweet voice, the question clearly directed at me.
“Dad’s in the hospital with a kidney stone, so my sister brought them here,” I said, wrangling on a bra and dragging a clean sweatshirt over my head. When the kids had settled back in front of their cartoons, I whispered, “Did you return Ty’s uniform?”
She nodded. “Sent a naughty photo to his phone first and left hisuniform in a trash bag outside his door. Don’t worry,” she said, clearly amused by my chastising look, “I didn’t include any identifying features. How about you? I thought you were bringing breakfast.” She stuffed a handful of Zach’s Cheerios in her mouth.
“Didn’t get a chance. Apparently, my sister needed a nap.”
Vero’s answering laugh was wry as I rummaged in the gym bag for the rest of my clothes.
“Where’s my underwear?” I asked, tossing aside a pair of jeans.
“Forget your underwear. Where’s Zach?”
Delia glanced up from my phone. “He went that way,” she said, pointing to the exit.
“Shit!” I dragged on my jeans, zipping them as I tore out of the locker room. I shouted Zach’s name, following a trail of Cheerios across the hall to the entrance to the men’s locker room. My son’s maniacal laughter echoed from inside.
I closed my eyes with a whispered “Fuck!”
I took a deep breath and pushed open the door. A wall of steam greeted me and the unmistakable sound of a shower turning off. Zach giggled. I whispered his name as loud as I dared, speed-walking down the aisle between the banks of lockers until I spotted his coat. He ran fast in the opposite direction, my panties clutched in his chubby hands as he grinned at me over his shoulder. I started after him, jolting to a stop as a man emerged from the showers. Nick limped into the dressing room, his hair damp, his chest bare, and a small white towel tied low around his hips.
Zach squealed as I lunged for his coat. It slipped through my fingers as he bolted toward Nick. The rest seemed to happen in torturous slow motion.
