“Yeah… Though I don’t want to go clubbing, and I probably shouldn’t be drinking alcohol…”
“Oh, well, in that case—“ I start to say but she interrupts me.
“Let me talk to Brett, I’m sure he’ll know of something.”
Argh. I really don’t feel like arguing with her until I’m blue in the face so I give up and sigh, “Okay,” in defeat.
Mandy squeals with happiness. Girl loves getting her way.
Before she can get too excited, I remind her, “But I still gotta ask my mom and dad to babysit. They might have plans.”
It’s not likely though. My parents rarely turn down a chance to have Hope all to themselves. They take immense joy in being the “fun” kind of grandparents. They’ll probably take her to the park and load her up on sugar.
“Okay,” Mandy says happily, knowing just as well as I do that it’s pretty much a done deal. “I’ll call you later with more details. Right now, though, I gotta run.”
“Okay, later… bitch,” I smirk. Hope isn’t around so I can be immature-high-school-Grace for another minute without having to stuff money into the swear jar.
“Later, bitch,” Mandy laughs and hangs up.
It’s just something silly from high school we like to do. For whatever reason calling each other bitches was just fun, like we were owning the word.
Walking over to my closet, I start to riffle through my wardrobe, already thinking about what I want to wear. If the other ring girls do show up, should I even try to compete? Maybe I should just dress down so I don’t look desperate…
My phone rings and I answer it without looking, thinking it’s Mandy calling me back. She probably forgot something.
“What do you want now, bitch?” I ask, putting extra emphasis on the bitch part.
“What the fuck, Grace?” Carson snaps and I drop my phone in shock.
“Fuck! I’m sorry!” I yell, hoping he can hear me over himself. He’s cursing up a storm as I bend down to pick my phone off the floor. “Seriously, I thought you were Mandy,” I explain.
Straightening, I hold my phone away from my ear and keep apologizing, insisting that I don’t think he’s a bitch until his loud, angry cursing calms down.
“I hope you don’t talk about me like that in front of our daughter,” Carson says angrily but calmer.
On the verge of tears after all the venom he just spewed at me, I reassure him, “No, never. I would never talk like that in front of her.”
“I’ve heard her say that word before and I was wondering where she learned it…”
I want to deny it and say she didn’t learn it from me, but I can’t be entirely sure. After she repeated it once after listening in on Mandy and me Skyping just before she turned two years old, we’ve been very, very careful. But maybe after these couple of years she remembers.
Fuck, between accidentally calling Carson a bitch and knowing he’s heard Hope use the word, I seriously feel like a horrible mother.
I don’t know what to say. I can neither deny nor accept responsibility for Hope’s cussing so there’s this long, awkward pause.
“Are you still there?” he asks, probably thinking I hung up.
“Yes,” I sigh and slump down on the edge of my bed, waiting for him to bring up the reason for his call.
I don’t know how to talk to him. I have so much anger when it comes to him. Not just for the way he’s hurt me but for the shitty way he’s treated her since she’s been born. But I’ve tried to let it go for her sake. We all make mistakes. We all do dumb shit when we’re younger. Lord knows I’ve done more than my share.
I just don’t understand how he could walk away from her.
I don’t understand how he could convince himself she was better off with me struggling to provide for her on my own while he went off to better himself—for her. Like hell did he go to college and party it up for her. He bettered himself for himself. And now that he’s back and I took him to court for child support, he’s forcing his way into her life for… what?
That’s what I can’t figure out.
The only reason I can think of is that he’s had a change of heart. Perhaps there’s remorse on his part. Regret.