Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
The only thing I had left to do was tell my kids. My soon-to-be ex, the man I had trusted to protect me and mine my whole married life, tried to slither out the door before the kids arrived, but they would’ve found his lifeless carcass on the kitchen floor if he took one step out of this house which is what I told him when he tried.
“Your mother is acting crazy.” That was his bright idea as soon as the kids walked in. I just smiled and asked my babies to sit down while I whipped them each up their favorite breakfast. Stuffed banana French Toast for Savanna and Praline pancakes for her twin Todd.
My third, Devon, likes his momma’s country omelet, and my youngest, Tyler, likes anything that’s called food, so he got a little bit of everything with freshly squeezed orange juice and a pot of coffee for the table.
“What about me?” If he thought that because my kids were home, I was going to cater to him to save his ass face, then he was mistaken. I went under the kitchen sink and found the old box of Terminix that was used to keep the septic tank clear or whatever and put it down in front of him because he’s full of shit.
“Mom!” Savanna, a daddy’s girl down to her pink toenails, was affronted. “What’s going on?” Poor thing, from the hitch in her voice, I think she already suspected. Her brothers, the hogs, were already wolfing down their grub.
“Well, kids, your Daddy’s having an affair. And get this, Todd, it’s your friend Mark’s sister Anne. Yes, you know the little girl that’s about to graduate high school? That’s the one.”
There was no easy way to tell them, and I figured just getting it out there was best, all things considered. “Dad?” Savanna, again, was the one to speak up. I sipped my coffee and sealed my lips to the conversation. Not my circus, not my monkeys. I’d be damned if I’m gonna sit here and help his ass out of his mess. These are his kids just as much as they are mine; he can clean up his own shit show.
I sat through the screaming and the yelling, the tears and the recriminations, and listened as my kids ripped him a new asshole, and rightfully so. I didn’t raise no punks.
My daughter, his sweet little princess, ripped into him so bad I thought she left holes, but I wasn’t about to check. “Help me out here.”
“I wasn’t there when you were cheating; what’s this got to do with me?” My eldest son looked like he was ready to commit murder, and I know for a fact that I have bail money and I’ll be a witness for the defense.
All we had to do was turn off the inside security cameras, put some bruises on him when he was done, and claim self-defense. I got up and refilled my coffee cup just as Sheila walked through the backdoor. I guess she was here to make sure her Godchildren were okay because she knew I was fine.
We’d polished off half a case of wine the night before so she would know that I was feeling no pain. I’m always like that after a night of drinking. Other people get hangovers while I just mellow out like I’m hopped up on Xanax.
Savanna saw her aunty Sheils and jumped up from the table to run into her arms. Two seconds ago, she was a lioness, but at the first sign of reinforcements, she turned into the little girl who used to run to her aunty for solace when her brothers were messing with her.
“It’s okay, baby, it’s going to be okay.” I propped my ass against the kitchen sink and sipped my fresh cuppa. Kevin, the two-headed snake, was sweating and talking as fast as his mouth would move. Lies, all lies. “It was a mistake; it only happened once.”
I guess he didn’t realize that I had all the details. My kids didn’t need to know everything, not yet, at least, but I’m sure their friends are going to tell them sooner or later because I’m about to take this shit to social media and burn every fucking bridge in this town.
CHAPTER 3
This asshole judge must not want to live much longer. My husband, the snake, cried and carried on in front of the judge, and this fool said he’d give us a period of reconciliation. I didn’t show any signs of anger or angst, but lady shark looked like she would jump over the podium and beat him to death with his gavel.
I shook her sleeve and smiled. “It’s okay.” You wanna reconcile? Let’s rock. The first thing I did when I got home was go out to the garden shed for my bottle of pesticide. That evening, when he came through the door, all smiles, thinking he’d won, his dinner the cook had made was sitting there waiting and ready, and the table centerpiece was that bottle of pesticide.