But her true colors had begun to shine through when Donny was arrested.
She’d even hired a lawyer and petitioned the court for grandparent custody rights.
Lucky for me, those rights didn’t actually exist. Regardless, she argued that I was an abusive mother and that she should be given sole custody of my children.
Her suit had no merit. But it had cost me tens of thousands of dollars in legal fees and many, many months of worry and stress.
That, I assumed, had been her plan from the beginning anyway. Donny learned the abusive tactics from someone, right?
I set the phone on the kitchen counter, stepped away, and closed my eyes and counted to ten. Then I did exactly what I’d done the dozen or so times this had happenedbefore. I forwarded the email to my sister and my lawyer and then blocked the email address.
“Mommy,” Julian yelled from upstairs.
Heart lurching, I wiped the tears out of my eyes.
Fuck Phyllis for ruining my day. She’d done it deliberately, choosing a Monday morning to ruin as much as she could.
“Coming.” I scraped my hair back, trying to school my expression.
The last thing Julian needed was more anxiety about his mean grandma stealing him from me.
Upstairs, I helped him get dressed and brush his teeth, then I distracted him with cartoons while I jumped in the shower. For the entire five-minute speed shower, my thoughts tumbled through my head. I told my lawyer. The logical thing to do now was ignore it. Ignore Phyllis. But I was so sick and tired of living my life scared. Scared that Donny or one of his toxic family members would drop a grenade into my day.
I was half dressed when Ellie groaned. “Mom.”
I darted into the girls’ room, only finding Maggie, who was fast asleep in the top bunk.
“Ellie?”
A retching sound echoed off the tile walls in the bathroom.
“Sweetie.” I peeked in, my chest already aching.
“I don’t feel good.” She peered up at me, looking so young, her skin sallow.
Shuffling closer, I held the back of my hand to her forehead.
Instantly, my stomach sank. She was burning up.
“When did this start?”
“Just a minute ago. I felt terrible when I woke up, and then I threw up.”
“Okay, sweetie. Let’s get you back to bed. Then I’ll get you water and some Tylenol.”
“No,” she groaned. “I’ll be fine once I brush my teeth.”
I brushed her hair away from her sweaty face. “You’re not fine.”
“I am. I’ll take a shower and be ready to go on time.”
My oldest baby was pale, glassy-eyed, and shivering.
When she was healthy, she acted like she was thirty-five, like she was completely independent, but like this, it was clear she needed me.
I pressed the back of my hand to her forehead again. “It’s probably a virus. But you need to stay home and rest, and you need fluids.”
Ellie never got sick, and when she did, she hid the signs and soldiered on. My poor kid put so much pressure on herself.
