Fat chance, Flabby.
Fuck you, Eli. Get out of my head.
“Are you gonna get wet?”
I almost fly over my handlebars. “What?”
“In the lake? Will you come, too?”
“Oh! Into the water in the lake. Yes, I can get wet, but when we get home, you can’t play in the kitchen. I want it to look nice for dinner.”
“Can I call Grandma?”
“Of course.”
“Can I play with Aly-son?”
“Allison. Maybe. Mom needs to work a bunch and clean the kitchen.” I have all of Mercer’s purchases and mine in my fridge and pantry. Except the flowers. Somehow, he kept the flowers.
I wonder if krakens have some kind of magic...
I don’t have time to wonder for long. I know the answer is yes about five minutes later, when I’m getting Zack out of the bike seat, and Mercer is suddenly there, right behind me, big enough to cast shadows and yet silent enough to make me jump when his deep voice says, “Right on time!”
Zack scrambles out of my arms and across Mercer’s tentacles, and the kraken makes them ripple, so that my son is suddenly on a mini roller coaster, riding waves of dark teal, giggling and squealing.
“That’s enough fun, little kraken. Today, we practice what we learned yesterday, and then we’re going to learn to float. Floating is super important.” Mercer slides from playground to patient teacher without a breath, tossing me a pleasant smile while he leads my son to the water.
“I need floaties?”
“No, floating without floaties is important. If you ever fall off a boat or get too tired to swim, you need to learn how to float on your back, with your mouth and nose above water. It’s not hard, but it is important.”
“Mommy! Can you float?” Zack calls as I hurry behind them, a single tote bag over my shoulder, self-consciously pulling an oversized button-down shirt over my middle and thighs.
“Yep. Mercer is right. It’s very important.”
“Float with us?”
“I’ll get in when it’s floating time,” I promise, and then I plop my bag down, wade into the water up to my calves, and watch my son enjoy his lessons.
When it’s time to float, Zack is a natural, and I’m excited to get in and watch him up close, even though I’m suddenly more wary of being called out for my mom bod than I ever was before.
That’s because you like the lifeguard. Admit it.
Shut up, Horny Madelyn. We’ll get something with batteries one of these days.
I see Mercer scan my figure as I shed my long shirt and hurry into deeper water, ignoring the chill in favor of soothing the sting of embarrassment. He looked at me—and then looked away like he couldn’t get his eyes off of me fast enough.
You’d have time to stay toned, hit the gym, go mountain biking again—if it weren’t for the baby.
Eli’s voice.
I want it to leave, but it never fully has.
That’s because you know I’m right. You never got your pre-mom bod back. You just settled into being doughy like you settled into being a mom and nothing else. Not a wife. Not a lover. You haven’t been on a date since I left. No one’s asked you, either.
“Madelyn, you’re sinking. You keep stiffening up. Going rigid.” Mercer looks dismayed when I fail to stay up for morethan a few seconds at a time. He’s probably thinking he’s got two pupils now.
“Sorry, just... a headache.” I think up the quickest half-truth I can. Eli’s voice that keeps popping up in my head with the frequency of a bad commercial is a pain, all right.
