Xena’s phone chimes with a notification, and she grabs it to look at the message.
“Kaden says he can’t just arrest the guy, but he says you need to call it in if the guy does anything else.”
“I didn’t say you should ask him that. I know he can’t just arrest Andrew.”
“Yeah, well, I figured my brother being on the force should give me some perks. It’s not like I’ve ever had a speeding ticket forgiven.”
A disbelieving look crosses my face. “You mean the fact that you never get arrested, or even questioned, when you pull a sword on someone in the middle of your coffee shop isn’t a perk?”
“No, of course not. That’s just the cops having common sense. No one wants to take on the bitch with the sword.” She laughs. “Especially not one who has as impressive a physique as I do.” She flexes her nearly non-existent muscles. This girl is barely over five feet tall and has a tiny little body. If she didn’t have boobs, she’d look like an eleven-year-old boy.
“Oh yeah, for sure, Xena. They’re just scared of you.” I laugh in spite of myself. It’s been a stressful few days and having my friend here to joke with is really helping. I still have to deal with all my problems, but at least I can not worry for a little bit while she’s here.
“I know,” she says. “I’m a bad ass. They know better than to fuck with all this.” she gestures to her entire body. “I like to call it ‘Short Bitch Energy’. Like ‘Big Dick Energy’ only deceptively cute and super deadly.”
“Well then, I’m glad you’re on my side. I’d really hate to have all that SBE directed at me.”
“OK, but seriously. What are you going to do about Andrew? Where’s your list? Let me see what you have so far.”
Xena knows me well enough to know that I like to make lists whenever I face a big problem. And this is the biggest problem I’ve ever faced, so she obviously assumes I have a list started already. But I don’t.
“I haven’t had the chance to start a list yet,” I tell her. “But I think I should start one now.”
I grab a notebook and pen from my office and sit on the floor by the coffee table. Opening my notebook to the next clean page, I write ‘What to do about Andrew’ at the top and underline it. I start with number one.
“1. Wait until he does something else and then call the police.”
Xena is reading my page from her spot on the couch, and she scoffs at this option.
“May as well cross that one out right now,” she says. “Because that is not going to work for me. And I don’t think it’s a smart move.”
“I know, but it’s an option, so I have to write it down. That’s how this list works. Write every option down, cross out the obviously shitty ones, and then pro and con the rest.”
“Exactly. I’m telling you that is a shitty one, so you should cross it out.”
“Can’t.” I say. My listing process is very specific. The guys in the band think I’m a little too particular about some things, but they definitely aren’t complaining when the checks are rolling in after I make the best deal for them. “I have to do the crossing out after I’ve exhausted every possible option I can think of. It doesn’t work if I don’t do it in order.”
“OK, crazy lady.” She laughs at me. “We’ll just make a mental note to cross that out later, then.”
I tap the pen against my lips while I try to think of another possibility. The options in this situation just seem so limited. I wonder if it’s because I’m too close to it to see a solution?
“What if you had someone ‘send him a message’? You know, the kind that comes at the end of a fist, or a boot?”
Leave it to Xena to suggest violence. She is the one who likes to threaten people with a sword for teasing her about her name, after all.
“I’ll write it down, but I really hope I don’t have to go that route. I was with Andrew for a year after all, and he is the father of this baby. We’ll need to be in each other’s lives in some way for the next 18 years. Why make it more of a strained relationship than it already is?”
I write her suggestion as number two and follow it up with my own number three.
“I’m adding, ‘call his parents and get them involved’.”
“You think he would listen to his parents?”
“I think so. Andrew is very concerned with what is right and proper and he defers to his parents in everything. They’re nice enough people, besides being just like my parents, so I think they’d be of some help in straightening this all out.”
“OK, but for real, do you really want to straighten this all out?” Xena gets up and goes to rummage through the fridge, coming back with bottles of water for each of us. “Like, wouldn’t it be a lot easier if Andrew just wasn’t in the picture at all? Write ‘get Andrew to sign all his rights away’.”
That’s actually not a terrible idea. If Andrew signed his rights away, he’d never have to pay child support, but I’d also never have to deal with him ever again. After what he did last night, I’m not sure how comfortable I would be leaving my baby with him for visitation, anyway.
