But she sighs and nods. “Okay. One more chance. But if anything like this happens again, I’ll have no choice.”
“Understood,” Sam says. “Thank you for your patience, Hilda. We appreciate it. Are they ready for us to take them home?”
“Yes, they should be waiting just outside. Class was dismissed. Good luck.”
We stand to leave. When I see the kids silently sitting in their chairs, their blue eyes big and haunted, I want to break down and cry.
Instead, I offer them my hands.
“Come on. Let’s go home.”
We’re quiet as all four of us walk to my car. Once the twins are settled in their seats, I close the door and turn to Sam.
“I’m sure you had better plans, but are you interested in coming home with us?”
“I’ll be right behind you.”
“Thanks.”
Before it happened, the kids used to chat incessantly whenever I picked them up from school, which was a couple of times a week because of Monica’s and Rich’s busy work schedules. But over the past month, we’ve sat in so much silence, it almost feels like it screams.
I’ve barely put my car in park when Kevin unbuckles himself from his seat and hurries out of the car, running toward the house.
Kelsey doesn’t move at all.
“We’re home, sugar.”
She turns those haunted eyes to me. “Okay.”
“Let’s go have a snack and talk with Uncle Sam, okay?”
She nods and waits for me to help her out of her seat, even though she’s perfectly capable of doing it herself. But I don’t mind. Once she’s free of the belt, she wraps her little arms around my neck and gives me a big hug.
“Don’t die, okay?”
I turn my face to look at her in surprise.
“What?”
“Don’t die.”
“Oh, honey.” I kiss her little cheek and carry her out of the car. “I’m right here. Let’s go get that snack.”
She rests her head on my shoulder, and I walk toward the front porch where Sam and Kevin are waiting for us.
“We heard you two had a busy day today,” I begin after I unlock the door and everyone files into my small house. “Who wants to talk about it?”
No one says a word.
“Okay, so none of us wants to, but we have to.”
“Why?” Kevin asks.
“Because we need to have a family meeting to figure some stuff out,” Sam replies. “You two know right and wrong. You know when you’re being bad. And when you’re hurting someone’s feelings. Right?”
Both of them nod mournfully.
“Then why are you acting this way?” I ask. “I know you’re sad. I am, too. But we can’t be mean to other people.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Kevin glares at the floor. He just turned five and has so much anger in his little body, I don’t know what to do.
“It matters,” Sam corrects him. “No iPad tonight.”
Kevin just hops off his chair and walks to his bedroom.
“Can I have a nap?” Kelsey asks. “I’m sleepy.”
“Sure.” I brush her hair off her shoulder. “Do you want me to read to you first?”
“No. I’ll just sleep.”
She walks away to the room she shares with her brother, leaving me with Sam.
“I’m fucking this up,” I say and rub my hands over my face. “Big time.”
“They need counseling,” he says. “Shit, we all do.”
“What was she thinking, leaving them to me?” I ask. I look at Sam and hold my hands out at my sides. “I don’t know how to be a mom.”
“Well, I don’t know how to be a dad, but they left them to me, too. They trusted us to do what’s right. And we’re doing that.”
I want to tell him that shuffling them back and forth between my house and his rental isn’t exactly the best thing for them, but I don’t. Because we’re doing the best we can with the hand we’ve been dealt.
And it’s a pretty shitty one.
“I’m going to stay for a while,” he says. “I’ll have dinner with you guys. I don’t have other plans.”
“We’d like that. Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. But you could make your famous tacos.”
I smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. Monica loved my tacos.
“Deal.”
* * *
“Let’s grab lunch,” Sam suggests a week later. We just finished signing the papers to sell the salon, one of the last details to see to regarding the estate.
I shrug a shoulder. “I’m really not that hungry.”
“You have to eat,” he says gently. “And so do I. The kids are with Aspen. Let’s go be crazy and eat junk food at Ed’s.”
Ed’s Diner is my favorite. He knows this.
And it totally works.
“Yeah, okay. Let’s do it. Shall we walk over?”
“Good idea.”
The diner isn’t too far away from the title office we just left, so we set off on foot, soaking in the sunshine.
“I feel guilty for selling the salon,” I say and watch as a kid on a bicycle zooms past us.