I do. I’ve got this. I can do this. Look at me, being organized. Doing it all. Doing it alone, like I have for years. I’m just doing it in a new place, but it’s a place that’s going to be better for my son. That’s what real moms do. They put their kids first.
I’m a total badass.
“Mommy, you cut your leg!” Zack says loudly, his voice sharp with sudden worry.
I look down and see the dark red line on my thigh. Both thighs. “That’s just my shorts digging into my leg, sweetie. It’s all good.”
Eli’s voice is sharp in my head.
My God! Mads—you have stretch marks everywhere. All over your legs. Will they go away? They’re on your ass! They’re everywhere!
He sounded like I had the plague. I don’t even want to remember what he said when he saw my chest when I was breastfeeding. The mooing noises made me so angry, and it hurt too bad to scream or cry.
God, I can’t believe I stayed with him, even before I had Zack.
Something inside me withers, even though I just spent the last few minutes building myself up.
Well, if you hadn’t—Zack wouldn’t be here. There’s a reason for everything.
“You okay? Want me to kiss it?” Zack asks, blowing a kiss in the direction of my tankini bottoms.
Bless his little heart.
“All better, baby.”
I’m a badass with fat thighs. And a fat butt. I’mstilla badass.
Chapter Four: Mercer
“Good morning, Mrs. Moskowitz. Greetings, Finn.” I nod at the woman power walking along the beach, and give the glashtyn fisherman a wave. We’re neighbors, of sorts, but I tend to keep to myself. Still, I pride myself that I’m starting to know the regulars, and I can definitely spot the newcomers.
The blonde, curvy human woman with a toddler that shares her blue eyes and curly hair bounces past, and my eyes linger for a long time, long enough that I have to shake myself and blink.
I wasn’t ogling the full, lush curves that she was flaunting with all the confidence of a siren, no. Definitely not.
I was noticing the child, obviously. Wondering if he knows how to swim. Wondering if his mother will put some sort of flotation device on him, like water wings or a life vest.
And okay, yes. I was wondering where the father is. It’s a sensible question. I saw that woman and her child yesterday. Briefly. No father about, which means she is watching a child alone, near the water.
Hundreds of women do that. Men, too, probably.
I still feel like there should be more than one pair of eyes on children near the water, even though the lake is pretty placid today.
Well, that’s obvious, you idiot. That’s why lifeguards are a thing. You’re starting to sound as empty-headed as Samantha.
Yes, that last remark was unkind and unworthy. Samantha wasn’t so bad. Just... distractible. It’s a human failing.
Andyouweren’t distracted by those two? Hypocrite.
I jerk my head back towards the water and decide to leave my perch and meander to the edge of the lake, my eyes scanning constantly. It’s a summer weekday, so there are plenty of kids arriving. Lots of mothers and school-aged children. A few dads chasing kids with sunscreen. Some couples and their broods.
Within the hour, it’s crowded, but my eyes always seem to gravitate back to the woman in the purple top and black shorts.
She seemed so happy yesterday. I only saw her for a moment, and even I noticed that. Today, she seems... Unfocused. Sober. She plays with her son, but with a smile that comes and goes, like she has to work to keep it there.
I wonder what happened between yesterday afternoon and this morning? I muse as I motion some children with kickboards out of the way of a trio of older men who are having a loud discussion about the community budget while lifting water weights.
“Zack? Zack!Zack?!”
