“I eat everything you eat. I do everything you do.” I look at her a little longer than I should. “I just do it with eight tentacles in the mix. It can come in very handy.”
Madelyn nods, blushes, and backs away. “See you tomorrow, then.”
“Tomorrow at seven!”
Chapter Five: Madelyn
It’s everything I have not to lecture. Not to crack, crumble, and fall apart. Instead, I give Zack a bubble bath, where I watch him like a hawk, washing the lake water off of him, thrilled that he’s not upset about the idea of getting wet again.
I make Zack frozen waffles, since he lost his first breakfast, and hot “tiny guy tea” (which is just honey and hot water). I wrap him in blankets, put him on the couch with me, and put on a show that Zack will watch a dozen episodes of without complaining.
Is that shitty parenting?
I sit with him, trying to answer work emails, trying not to think about Eli’s threats—and how much weight this near-drowning could have on a judge’s decision on who gets to raise my son.
My son. Almost drowned.
Everything in me is shaking, and I don’t know what to say to Zack. I don’t want to make him more afraid.
I close my computer and pull Zack into my lap. He immediately cuddles in, head tight under my chin. “Mama,” he murmurs.
“Little man... That was scary today.” My arms tighten around him. I have to swallow hard to keep my voice steady.
“Yeah.”
“Do you know how much I love you?”
“Yeah.” Zack squirms around to look up at me, a sleepy smile on his face.
“So you have to be careful. Have fun, but be careful. Because if anything ever happened to you, my heart would break. In a million, billion pieces.”
“Mine would break in a trillion, billion,” Zack’s hand reaches up and grabs my hair softly, little fingers holding onto it with gentle possessiveness.
“We’re going to take good care of each other,” I whisper. “Stick close together.”
Zack nods. “And Mercer.”
“Mercer?” I’m surprised Zack remembers the heroic kraken lifeguard’s name.
Why would you be surprised at that? This kid remembers everything, even things you want him to forget.
“He’ll help.” Zack reaches under his little blue bathrobe and tugs on the whistle that’s still around his neck. “You should swim with us.”
“I... I know how, sweetie. The lessons are for you.”
“I want you,” his voice has an edge of a whine, and right now, I can’t handle anything making him unhappy. I keep thinking about all the time I miss out on really playing with him, even though we’re in the same house, the nights I prayed he’d go to sleep fast so I could have a little time alone...
If Mercer hadn’t been there—or if Eli is serious about fighting for custody—alone could be my new reality.
“I’ll swim, too. If Mr. Mercer doesn’t mind.”
“He won’t,” Zack says with the ease of an infallible almost-three-year-old.
“Do you like this show? Do you want to go do something else?” I ask, suddenly uneasy with how sleepy my child seems, even though he’s been breathing, eating, and chattering away for a few hours now with no evidence of his earlier ordeal.
“Sit on you,” Zack says, head tipping back.
Just sitting. Holding him. Keeping him safe.
