Page 16 of Married to the Devil

Divorce. Poor Marnie.

I brush Hattie’s mess of brown curls back. Her room’s rainbow and pony themed. Lots of pink, purple, and green. Dozens of stuffies are piled all around her as she drools onto a cupcake pillowcase. I kiss her forehead and she stirs.

“I love you, Harriet.”

Back in the hall, I pause outside my daughter’s door, still thinking about Marnie. Guilt hits me, but I can’t help feeling like it’s better Marnie’s going through this now, before she has kids.

No way she would survive life as a single mother. Not even as a divorced mother with custody agreements. Bless her heart and soul.

Before I go to sleep, I peer out the front windows, not sure why I do it.

The car’s gone. The two men with it.

Just me being stupid and paranoid.

I climb into bed and stare at that budget Beth sent again, dreaming of how it might change my life.

5

JUNE

“Mommy!” Hattie comes running through the classroom and hurls herself into my arms.

“Hi, bubbles, you had a good day?”

“Grrrreat! Look at what I made. Mom? Look!”

Hattie parades drawings in my face as I gather her stuff. I tell her they’re all amazing and she’s incredible but she’s not listening to anything I’m saying. She gushes on about this new pony she made up with purple glowing skin and magic orb powers or something, I can’t follow, and it doesn’t matter. She jabbers away as I thank her teacher and lead her out into the late afternoon.

“What’s for dinner?” she asks six times in a row even after I answer. Hattie’s always like this late in the day when she’s tired. I remember Grandma was the same, always chatting away, mouth running no matter what, especially toward the end like she wanted to get it all out before she went. “Mommy, who’s that?”

I frown down at her in alarm and look over my shoulder. We’ve been walking for a few minutes heading home. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“There are big boys. Look at that!” She jabs a finger across the street even though I tell her all the time not to point at people.

I’m about to tell her to stop but the words die. Two men are trailing behind us, neither looking over, but keeping pace. One’s big, burly, rough-looking, in jeans and a striped polo shirt. The other’s shorter, stouter, bald, scowling, in long shorts and a tight t-shirt. Both stare straight ahead.

“They’re just people,” I tell Hattie, holding her hand tighter and speeding up. I remember the car from the night before, but that’s stupid. “It’s the city, bubbles.”

“But, but, but they were there earlier! I swear!”

“Okay, honey, I believe you. Tell me more about your ponies.”

“Ooooh, yes, there’s Mooella, she’s a cow pony⁠—“

Hattie goes off, easily distracted as ever, and I pick up our pace again. The men stay back, not getting closer, but when I turn at the corner, I notice they’re on our side now and still going our way. We have another twelve blocks to go and I tell myself I’m being paranoid. It’s the city, people are always walking everywhere, I can’t even guess how many times I’ve had guys keep pace with me for a while only to end up wandering off in another direction. That’s life here.

Something feels off though and I can’t say what.

I keep Hattie talking. She’s observant, and if I give her a chance, she’ll pick up on my anxiety. I ask about TorpedoPony and Hurricaney and get a very detailed answer. As quietly and calmly as I can, I take out my phone and shoot a text to Marnie.

June: You busy? Can you come over?

Marnie: Not remotely and yes. Need babysitting?

June: IDK. Creepy guys freaking me out.

Marnie: Say no more. On my way. *gun emoji*