10
VIVIEN
“How are you holding up?” Audrey asks as I pile more pancakes on the plate on autopilot.
“I’m not,” I truthfully admit. “Bodhi is even more withdrawn. It’s been a week since they were arrested, and he hasn’t spoken one word to Dillon or me. Easton is still mad at him, and they aren’t talking. Not that I blame E. It was a huge betrayal, and he has every right to his anger. The therapist came on Tuesday, and that was a shit show.”
I pour more batter into the mold on the skillet, staring into space as I recall one of the worst weeks ever.
I’ve endured a lot of heartbreaking things in my life, so I don’t say that easily.
“East spoke with her but didn’t want to talk about it with us after, which we had to respect,” I explain. “He was withdrawn and quiet the rest of the night. Then Dillon frog-marched Bodhi into the living room where he sat in silence for a half hour while the therapist tried to coax him into talking to no avail.”
“Jesus, Viv.”
“He refuses to eat meals with us. He leaves for school early and doesn’t come home until after midnight most nights. He removed the GPS tracker from his truck and his cell so we have no clue where he is or what he’s up to. He’s either drunk or high when he returns or sometimes both. Last night, Dillon confiscated the keys to his truck because we’re terrified he’s going to wrap it around a pole and kill himself or hit an innocent person.”
My hands shake as I flip the pancakes over. I’m still a nervous passenger and I cross myself every time the boys leave in their cars. I think I will always worry about car accidents after what I lived through, but there is a very real possibility of it happening now with Bodhi because he has become reckless and shown he has little value in living. “I can’t concentrate at work. I was a total basket case presenting at the conference last weekend though thankfully I had already done the groundwork and all the studios signed off on the new child advocacy rules.”
“That’s a big win, Viv. You should be so proud. I know Reeve would be.”
“Gawd, don’t mention his name because I’m so fucking pissed at him.” I lift the pancakes out of the skillet and drop them onto the plate. “He started all of this, and I’m angry at him all over again.” I glance at the clock. “Is eleven thirty too early to hit the vodka because, I swear, I want to drink myself into blissful numbness and pretend like this is all just a nightmare.”
“Breathe, Viv.” Audrey takes my hands and rubs them. “Let me finish brunch. Go take a bath, and we’ll go for a walk then.”
I shake my head and retract my hands. “I’ll finish brunch. I’m trying my best to keep things normal for the girls.” Emily, Fleur, and Melody attend a dance class at ten a.m. every Saturday morning, and it’s tradition for them to come back here and have pancakes and strawberries.
“Who’s hungry?” I say, in my loudest, cheeriest voice, as I lift the plate and head toward the large wooden kitchen table where our three princesses are currently coloring while they wait to be fed.
“Me, me, me!” they respond enthusiastically as one.
“I want the biggest pancake ’cause I’m the oldest and it’s my birthday in ten days,” Fleur says, licking her lips as she watches me approach.
“I want the biggest pancake ’cause I’m the youngest and I’ve got the most growing to do,” Melody chips in.
“What about you, Emily?” I ask Alex’s and Audrey’s eldest daughter, who at seven is slap bang in between my two girls. “Don’t you want to stake a claim?”
“Nope. I don’t care what size pancake I get as long as there are lots of them.” Her goofy grin is adorable, and I love that little girl as much as if she was my own.
I lean down and press a kiss to her cute blonde head. She is the sweetest child and so affable. “Don’t ever change,” I tell her, my voice cracking a little.
“I hate to break the news to you, girls,” I tell my daughters as my gaze darts between them. “But all the pancakes are the same size because I got a new pancake mold.” I set the plate down in the center of the table.
“Everyone gets the biggest!” Melody says, clapping her hands as I watch Fleur grab three pancakes and dump them on her plate. That girl has the appetite of an elephant, but she’s as skinny as a rail, and I have no idea where she puts all the food she devours. Not that I’m complaining. For a kid, she’s very adventurous and willing to try anything. Melody is a picky eater, and I have to sneak vegetables into sauces and blitz them until they are hidden so I can get some goodness into her. If I left it up to her, she’d live on a diet of chicken nuggets and grilled cheese sandwiches.
“Can I have a chocolate cupcake after my pancakes?” Fleur asks in between bites as I place a few strawberries on all their plates while Audrey sets a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice down in front of the three girls.
“You can have a cupcake later. You don’t want to make yourself sick.”
“I love chocolate cupcakes,” Emily says before popping a piece of pancake into her mouth.
“My brothers loooooove chocolate cupcakes,” Melody says over a mouthful of pancake. “But Mom hasn’t made them in ages.”
It’s true. The foundation has kept me super busy, especially this past year, but recent weeks were a lesson in prioritizing what’s important. I’m interviewing for an operations director at the moment—Ash is helping with it—and once I have someone in the role, I plan to take some time off to focus on my family. Going forward, I aim to work only while the kids are at school. I want to have more time to devote to my family. That has always been my goal, but lately it’s been hard to stick to it. The foundation needed more of my time, but now it will have to take a back seat.
My kids and my husband take precedence.
I haven’t been able to sleep properly for weeks, so I have been getting up early and baking. I find it therapeutic. The boys loved chocolate cupcakes when they were younger, and it’s silly, but I thought it might help to remind Bodhi of his youth and help him to remember all the fun times we had as a family. I leave a bag for him and Easton at the door every morning with a homemade smoothie and a cupcake in each one. Both bags are gone every day, but I don’t know if Bodhi is taking his and dumping it in the trash or if E is taking both so as not to hurt my feelings.