“I’m kind of in love with you,” Rosetta whispers as soon as Bridget is gone. “I love how you just gave her a dose of her own medicine.”
I laugh.
“She’s such a witch,” she goes on. “So snobby.”
“Why don’t you like her?” I ask, secretly glad the ex-wife is not revered.
“Well, she didn’t like me as a hire when I first started. She thought Mr. Hanson could do with a classier assistant. I overheard their conversation. He fought for me, despite her many arguments. I’ve hated her ever since.”
“No shit….bitch.”
“You’re all right, Honey.” She pats me on the shoulder. “Great work on the designs by the way.”
* * *
I wonderhow many germs are living on the play structure as I watch Ethan climb a tunnel. Another small boy, about his size, follows him into the tunnel. They’re both having a blast. Oh… to be young again, and so easily entertained. I can’t remember the last time I was so excited about something. Actually, I can. I get that excited anytime Weston is around.
Perhaps that’s the attraction. It’s the excitement, the taboo of it all, the sneaking around. I feel like I’m a teenager again. He makes my heart race.
I sip my shake and stare at Ethan’s uneaten McNugget. He loves it here. We come here about once a week. It’s tradition. I usually get a Big Mac or a Junior chicken, and he loves the nuggets with sweet and sour sauce.
I check my phone out of pure boredom. Nothing. Thankfully, there are no more texts from Samuel since I’ve blocked him. No emails from Weston either. He’s not much of a texter. He’s very old-school. Sometimes I forget that he’s about ten years older than me. That’s almost a whole decade. I’m a millennial, and he’s Gen X. Or is it Gen Y? I should Google it.
After what seems like hours, Ethan finally tires out and we head home.
We walk to Orchard Heights, hand in hand. It’s a long slow walk, but the exercise is good for the both of us. He’s exhausted when we finally get home. I’m carrying him in my arms as I toy with the door lock, but strangely enough, it’s not locked.
“No bath tonight.” I lead him to the washroom. “But we need to do the three things. What are the three things, Ethan?”
“Pee, hand… and brush teeth,” he cheers proudly.
“Good boy… you remembered.”
I help him brush his teeth and wash his hands, and then following a little encouragement, he does a big pee for me. I carry him to his bedroom and take off his clothes. He’s practically sleeping already as I slip on his pajamas.
I kiss him goodnight and smile all the way to my bedroom. He might not be having a bath, but I sure am. It’s been another long day.
I flip the light switch, and my whole body freezes.
Samuel is sitting on my bed.
