My body burns from our workout. I decided to take the whole self-defense thing seriously after Bull made himself welcome in my home the other night. I was ashamed at how effortlessly he avoided the wrath of my baseball bat. I don't stand a chance against a real intruder.
Zoey, thinking it was a great idea, tagged along for moral support, hoping the instructor was a young hottie for her to feast her eyes upon. Unfortunately for her, he was about fifty with an outfit suggesting that he bats for the other team. I’ve never seen so much disappointment on my friend’s face before, but apart from that, we actually had a really great time.
I think we got more laughing and screwing around done than actual self-defense. But I think we’ll end up coming back each week, and hopefully, we’ll learn a few things that could potentially save our lives. It was a great form of exercise, and the girls were able to come along. The facility has a child-minding area knowing that a lot of the women who attend self-defense classes are moms. It was great knowing that they were well taken care of while Zoey and I did our thing. It was like a mini-vacation for me. They definitely get my vote.
We get the girls buckled, and I drop down into my car beside Zoey. “Are your legs hurting?” I whine, starting up the car and pulling out of my parking space.
“Yes,” she groans, rubbing her hands down her thighs. “I’m not going to be able to move for days.”
“Why sore, Mommy?” Ryan questions from the back seat as Coby blows spit bubbles behind me.
Zoey gives me a devilish grin. “Because Mommy had to get on her hands and knees and work while the man tried to get her on her back. She did so well, though. Mommy was the best, she lasted so long.”
“Yay, Mommy,” Ryan cheers as I scowl at Zoey while she chuckles at her own ridiculous wit. I can only imagine how Ryan is going to put that into her own words when describing to Bryce how her week has been next Saturday.
I roll my eyes and glance up at Ryan in the rear-view mirror. “Yeah, baby. Mommy did really great. How did you do while Mommy and Zo Zo were busy?”
Ryan goes on and on about the toys and the other children she met until her eyes grow heavy and flutter closed. Soon, both of the girls are snoring softly, exhausted from their exciting day. “Shit,” Zoey grunts. “That was quick. I thought they’d be able to hold off until we got back to your place.”
“So did I,” I grumble. “They must have really worn them out.”
“Yeah, I have a feeling they’ll happily go back each week.”
I nod in agreement as I turn down my street and get us home. I pull into my drive not long after, and my eyes can’t help but rake over the fixed railing. I still can’t believe Bull showed up here in the middle of the night with his welder. I mean, I get he wanted to help because his team cut it up, but it wasn’t necessary. It was my kid who got her head stuck in the stupid thing, but either way, I’m eternally grateful. Dad probably wouldn’t have cared that it had to get cut to save Ryan, but the thought of it broken weighed on my soul all day until he came to fix it.
I park the car and hop out, watching with a smile as Zoey goes right for Coby's door. She's the easy one. That baby could sleep soundly through a freaking rave. I lean in to unbuckle Ryan, the light sleeper, who needs a more practiced set of hands to maneuver her out of her seat during naptime.
We get the girls inside and into bed to finish their naps, and as I walk out of Ryan’s room, I find Zoey rifling through Coby’s closet, pulling out clothes and grabbing a handful of diapers. “Ahh,” I grumble. “What the hell are you doing?”
She looks across at me before checking that Coby didn’t stir with the sound of my voice. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m taking the girls for the night.”
“Okay … but why?”
“Because you have your date with your man tonight.”
“First of all, you need to stop calling him that, and secondly, there is no date. I never agreed to a date.”
“He is so your man, and yes, there will be a date. I saw the look in his eye. That man is coming here at seven to sweep you off your feet and take you on the night of your life.”
I roll my eyes as she throws Coby’s things into a bag before grabbing some wipes to go with it. “I seriously doubt it,” I tell her. “Besides, he’s not the guy for me. I mean, sure, he’ll be fun as hell for a night or two, but he isn’t the real deal. He’s a player. It’s written all over him, guys that look like that are only interested in hitting and quitting. Another baby daddy is the last thing I need in my life.”