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Authors: Julie Kenner
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amazed. “Look at that. Can you reach it?”
“What?” Tantrum forgotten, he turned big eyes upward. “Right above you,” I said. “If you reach really high, you might be able to catch one.”
He climbed to his feet, a bit unsteady on the soft mattress and stretched his arms up toward the ceiling, grasping at nothing.
I pounced, pulling him down to the mattress even as my fingers went for his underarms, tickling for all I was worth. He squealed and kicked and screamed and appeared generally delighted with the whole thing. So delighted, in fact, that even when I fell back exhausted on the bed, he bounced and bounced, crying, “Again! Again! Again!” so many times that Stuart and Allie appeared in the doorway.
“You’re stuck now,” Allie said. “Once he starts, there’s no going back. Duh-duh-duh-dummmmmm,” she added, in a bad parody of a horror movie soundtrack.
“Thanks,” I deadpanned. “You’re very helpful. You?” I asked, shifting my attention from my daughter to Stuart.
“Sorry. I got nothing. Except pancakes. How about it, sport? Want to make a trade? Your mother’s freedom for a Mickey Mouse pancake with chocolate chip eyes?”
“Pancakes!” he screamed, then leaped off the bed and scurried past his father for the stairs.
“Tossed aside for carbohydrates,” I said. “Isn’t it always the way?”
Stuart blew me a kiss, then headed out of the room to make good on his promise. I rolled out of bed and headed to the armchair that has never seen a person’s tush, seeing as it has throughout our entire marriage served only as a place to hold clothes. I found a pair of sweatpants and tugged them on. I was already wearing a Coronado High PTA T-shirt, so I was now as dressed as I intended to get until after coffee.
I checked the clock, saw that it was painfully early for a Saturday, and decided I had plenty of time before Timmy’s ten o’clock social engagement. I also saw that Allie was still hovering in the doorway looking expectantly in my direction.
“Well?”
In response, I shoved my feet into fuzzy bunny slippers. “Ummm?”
“Daddy,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Why was he here? Can I hang out at his place this weekend?”
“He was here because we had things to discuss, and not this weekend.”
“But—”
“He has to run into L.A.,” I lied.
“I could go with him.”
I bent down and adjusted my bunny slippers so that my daughter wouldn’t see the lie on my face. “I don’t think it’s convenient this time, kiddo.”
“But we can ask him, right? I mean, I could call, and—”
“No.”
“What? Why?” Her wail drifted all the way downstairs, and Stuart yelled back up with a curt, “I didn’t say anything.”
“But why not?” Allie said, trying again with a softer voice.
“Your grades, for one,” I said, heading for the door. “Your father and I are both concerned.” I told myself I was feeling no guilt. We were concerned. That just wasn’t my reason for keeping my daughter from her father.
As for the real reason, I should feel no guilt there, either. After all, my first job as a mom was to keep my kids safe. And even Eric agreed that Allie was better off not being alone with him.
That simple fact sat like a dead weight in my stomach, and my fingers itched to pick up the phone and try to reach Father Corletti. We were missing something. Something huge. Something that would save Eric if only we could find it. And now, with the demon inside gaining strength and some anonymous She-Demon out there, I feared we had to find it fast.
I frowned, realizing I hadn’t told Stuart about our little encounter with Gargantua the Wonder Demon last night. I glanced toward the door, guilt pooling in my gut. I’d promised Stuart full disclosure, but I hadn’t realized how quickly that would become dicey. Demons attacking in the backyard. Demons buddying up to Eric. That was the kind of stuff that could really worry a man. Hell, it worried
“What?” Tantrum forgotten, he turned big eyes upward. “Right above you,” I said. “If you reach really high, you might be able to catch one.”
He climbed to his feet, a bit unsteady on the soft mattress and stretched his arms up toward the ceiling, grasping at nothing.
I pounced, pulling him down to the mattress even as my fingers went for his underarms, tickling for all I was worth. He squealed and kicked and screamed and appeared generally delighted with the whole thing. So delighted, in fact, that even when I fell back exhausted on the bed, he bounced and bounced, crying, “Again! Again! Again!” so many times that Stuart and Allie appeared in the doorway.
“You’re stuck now,” Allie said. “Once he starts, there’s no going back. Duh-duh-duh-dummmmmm,” she added, in a bad parody of a horror movie soundtrack.
“Thanks,” I deadpanned. “You’re very helpful. You?” I asked, shifting my attention from my daughter to Stuart.
“Sorry. I got nothing. Except pancakes. How about it, sport? Want to make a trade? Your mother’s freedom for a Mickey Mouse pancake with chocolate chip eyes?”
“Pancakes!” he screamed, then leaped off the bed and scurried past his father for the stairs.
“Tossed aside for carbohydrates,” I said. “Isn’t it always the way?”
Stuart blew me a kiss, then headed out of the room to make good on his promise. I rolled out of bed and headed to the armchair that has never seen a person’s tush, seeing as it has throughout our entire marriage served only as a place to hold clothes. I found a pair of sweatpants and tugged them on. I was already wearing a Coronado High PTA T-shirt, so I was now as dressed as I intended to get until after coffee.
I checked the clock, saw that it was painfully early for a Saturday, and decided I had plenty of time before Timmy’s ten o’clock social engagement. I also saw that Allie was still hovering in the doorway looking expectantly in my direction.
“Well?”
In response, I shoved my feet into fuzzy bunny slippers. “Ummm?”
“Daddy,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Why was he here? Can I hang out at his place this weekend?”
“He was here because we had things to discuss, and not this weekend.”
“But—”
“He has to run into L.A.,” I lied.
“I could go with him.”
I bent down and adjusted my bunny slippers so that my daughter wouldn’t see the lie on my face. “I don’t think it’s convenient this time, kiddo.”
“But we can ask him, right? I mean, I could call, and—”
“No.”
“What? Why?” Her wail drifted all the way downstairs, and Stuart yelled back up with a curt, “I didn’t say anything.”
“But why not?” Allie said, trying again with a softer voice.
“Your grades, for one,” I said, heading for the door. “Your father and I are both concerned.” I told myself I was feeling no guilt. We were concerned. That just wasn’t my reason for keeping my daughter from her father.
As for the real reason, I should feel no guilt there, either. After all, my first job as a mom was to keep my kids safe. And even Eric agreed that Allie was better off not being alone with him.
That simple fact sat like a dead weight in my stomach, and my fingers itched to pick up the phone and try to reach Father Corletti. We were missing something. Something huge. Something that would save Eric if only we could find it. And now, with the demon inside gaining strength and some anonymous She-Demon out there, I feared we had to find it fast.
I frowned, realizing I hadn’t told Stuart about our little encounter with Gargantua the Wonder Demon last night. I glanced toward the door, guilt pooling in my gut. I’d promised Stuart full disclosure, but I hadn’t realized how quickly that would become dicey. Demons attacking in the backyard. Demons buddying up to Eric. That was the kind of stuff that could really worry a man. Hell, it worried
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