“A famous architect.” I straighten again, ruffling the soft curls on the top of Luke’s head. “But I bet you could show him a thing or two about how to make a flying catapult.” I pick up the catapult, to which he’s attached two big Lego wings, and flap them.
Luke grins. “It’s so the knights can fly their catapult over the walls and shootfrom the inside.”This last he says in a near-whisper, like he wants to keep his battle plans secret from imaginary enemies.
Or maybe his sister.
“Mo-om,” Ivy says as she emerges from their bathroom, turning my name into that two syllable whine that means she’s about to tattle on Luke. “I heard Luke running water when he woke up, and I found him filling up all the cups in the room. He was going to make a moat for his tower.”
I raise an eyebrow at Luke, who looks slightly abashed. “I was going to put towels in a ring around it to hold the water in.”
“A moat, Mom! In a hotel!” Ivy folds her arms.
“I was definitely still asleep for that part,” Marguerite says, holding in a grin.
I’m holding in my own laugh at the thought of how the people in the room below us might feel about Luke’s moat idea. “Luke, honey, while the towel idea was smart, we can’t build moats in a hotel.That’s more of an outside activity—maybe at the beach, when Marguerite takes you guys.”
Luke pouts a little, but then sees something to adjust on his tower and happily occupies himself with his Legos.
“Thanks for keeping the room from being flooded,” I murmur to Ivy, pulling her in for a hug.
She smiles at me, always grateful when her responsibility is appreciated.
“But,” I continue, “go easy on your brother, okay? It’s not super easy living out of a hotel.”
She purses her lips, then nods, and her gaze drops down to her massive-headed Hello Kitty slippers, which she scuffs against the carpet. She’s gotten rid of almost all her stuffed animals and toys she deems “for little kids,” which makes me sad, but she’s still kept some favorites.
God, it’s not easy to see her growing up.
“So, Mom,” Ivy says, scratching Costanza behind his ear. He leans into her, thumping his leg against the ground, a big doggy smile stretched across his face. He loves the kids almost as much as he loves me. He’d probably be all right staying here with them, but the kids aren’t going to be spending their days in the hotel. And the hotel staff wouldn’t appreciate the disaster they’d find if this dog was left alone in an unfamiliar place for the day.
“Yes, hon?” I can already tell by her long pause what she’s going to ask.
“Can I get my computer or phone back? It’s been a really long time.”
“It has,” I agree. “And you’ve already earned back the privilege of using your computer when your dad or me or Marguerite is in the room with you.”
Frustration furrows her brow. “But—”
“Remember what we agreed on for the lying?Three months without the phone.”
“I didn’t agree,” she mutters, in what I assume she thinks is under her breath.
“Lying is—”
“—a really big deal, I know.” She frowns at Costanza but keeps scratching him.
I sigh. It still hurts that she lied to me. I’m trying hard not to take it personally—kids lie to their parents, right?
Except Ivy’s always been so much like me, a stickler for the rules. Mature beyond her years. And though I know this is probably the exception to the typical parent-child relationship, I never lied to my parents. Honestly, throughout all my simultaneous childhood and career—starting with that first Chef Boyardee commercial as a marinara sauce–covered toddler and through my years long, major-hit stint as a teenage spy-in-training onSpy High—I generally trusted that they knew what was best for me.
At least until it came to Blake.They never thought he was good for me, and I stopped listening to anything they had to say on the matter. I’m sure they felt vindicated by the divorce, but they had it all wrong.
I was the one who wasn’t good forhim.
“But I already had my phone taken away for a week—” Ivy starts again.
“For talking to a boy you met online that I didn’t know.That doesn’t exactly count towards your penance.”
What I’m sure she hasn’t quite internalized, even though we’ve definitely talked about it, is that once she gets it back, the rules on phone use will be much tighter than they were before. Maybe it’s harsh, but she’s my daughter, and I have to protect her.
