back.” I set my coffee on the counter.
“Where you going?” John asked.
Really? “To the bathroom.”
I went to the second bath room , looked at myself in the mirror then walked out and detoured to my bedroom . Opening the laptop , I let the girls in on what the hell I was suffering.
Morgan wasn’t online. Shit.
Not wanting to be hunted out, I closed the laptop and went back to the torture visit with smiles.
“Ah, there’s my beautiful wife.”
“Had some trouble in the bathroom. Constipation.” I picked up my coffee and hid my smile with a sip.
“That’s not good,” Joe said.
I pointed to his son. “ C an you tell him not to throw toys in the fish tank?”
He turned around in his chair. “Op. Son. Get down right now.”
What a joke to pretend like talking ever worked. His three year old never listened. Surprisingly, Joe got up and actually went over there to take care of it. “I told you not to do this.” Joe looked at me , carrying the child a way and setting him down . “See, we don’t have stuff like this where our kids can reach it. We like to make it kid proof so they can have fun .”
Anger zinged through me. “You take your stove out of your house too? Cause that’s not kid friendly either but you have to teach them they can’t play with some things.”
Joe laughed once and raised his brows. “Yeah , true .”
John jumped on the bandwagon. “ No, it’s not good to leave your kids untrained. They have to learn authority from an early age.”
I took another sip of coffee, hiding my smirk. Here comes a sermon on the mount. “I’ll be back,” I muttered, setting my coffee down.
John didn’t notice as he was on stage at the moment. Good. Hoped he really got high up on his horse for a solid t hirty minutes. I didn’t bother going to the bathroom, I went straight to my room and opened the laptop.
I clicked Morgan’s box.
“You there?”
I waited around for five minutes.
Morgan: In a meeting. Meet me in an hour? Please?
Did he mean literally?
Tasha : On here?
Morgan: Don’t you need anything from Wal-Mart or something?
My heart thundered at the possibility of meeting him.
Tasha : I can maybe make arrangements for something like that tomorrow. But not tonight, too spur of the moment.
“Hey, you in there?” John called from outside the door.
Shit! I shut the laptop. “Yeah, changing my shirt. Spilt on it.”
“Okay, well try and hurry . ”
I didn’t answer as I put on another shirt and shoved my clean one back in the drawer.
“Mom, when are they leaving?” Trevor whispered on my way to the kitchen.
“I don’t know, just keep everybody busy in the back room, I’ll let you know when the parties over.”
Trevor rolled his eyes. “I hate this. Dad always—”
I grabbed his shoulders. “I know. Believe me. Now just go, I’ll help in the clean-up of his little animals .”
I arrived b ack in the kitchen to silence .
“I was just telling Joe about how you love to write, ” John said.
Oh brother, not that shit. “Oh really?” I put my coffee in the microwave to heat. “Yeah, love me some writing .”
“ S he’s having a hard time balancing priorities with it , but she’s working on that .”
My jaw hardened. Surely he did not.
“What are you writing? ” Joe’s wife asked.
That holy hippie bastard. Fucking priorities?
“ You know, ” Joe began, “ I wrote a story once—”
“ I ’m working on a ménage scene. ” I turned with my heated coffee , speaking loud enough for ole Joe to hear over his conceited crowing. “I’ve been really struggling with it . ” I flopped my left hand out . “ Should Betty Lou let Larry do her up the poop shoot while David watches ?” I flopped out my right hand. “O r should David do Betty while Larry plays with his ding-a-ling?” I grinned like you do at the punch line of a joke then waved a hand at their looks of shock . “ Good Lord, I’m kidding!” This with a guffaw of laughter. “As if
“Where you going?” John asked.
Really? “To the bathroom.”
I went to the second bath room , looked at myself in the mirror then walked out and detoured to my bedroom . Opening the laptop , I let the girls in on what the hell I was suffering.
Morgan wasn’t online. Shit.
Not wanting to be hunted out, I closed the laptop and went back to the torture visit with smiles.
“Ah, there’s my beautiful wife.”
“Had some trouble in the bathroom. Constipation.” I picked up my coffee and hid my smile with a sip.
“That’s not good,” Joe said.
I pointed to his son. “ C an you tell him not to throw toys in the fish tank?”
He turned around in his chair. “Op. Son. Get down right now.”
What a joke to pretend like talking ever worked. His three year old never listened. Surprisingly, Joe got up and actually went over there to take care of it. “I told you not to do this.” Joe looked at me , carrying the child a way and setting him down . “See, we don’t have stuff like this where our kids can reach it. We like to make it kid proof so they can have fun .”
Anger zinged through me. “You take your stove out of your house too? Cause that’s not kid friendly either but you have to teach them they can’t play with some things.”
Joe laughed once and raised his brows. “Yeah , true .”
John jumped on the bandwagon. “ No, it’s not good to leave your kids untrained. They have to learn authority from an early age.”
I took another sip of coffee, hiding my smirk. Here comes a sermon on the mount. “I’ll be back,” I muttered, setting my coffee down.
John didn’t notice as he was on stage at the moment. Good. Hoped he really got high up on his horse for a solid t hirty minutes. I didn’t bother going to the bathroom, I went straight to my room and opened the laptop.
I clicked Morgan’s box.
“You there?”
I waited around for five minutes.
Morgan: In a meeting. Meet me in an hour? Please?
Did he mean literally?
Tasha : On here?
Morgan: Don’t you need anything from Wal-Mart or something?
My heart thundered at the possibility of meeting him.
Tasha : I can maybe make arrangements for something like that tomorrow. But not tonight, too spur of the moment.
“Hey, you in there?” John called from outside the door.
Shit! I shut the laptop. “Yeah, changing my shirt. Spilt on it.”
“Okay, well try and hurry . ”
I didn’t answer as I put on another shirt and shoved my clean one back in the drawer.
“Mom, when are they leaving?” Trevor whispered on my way to the kitchen.
“I don’t know, just keep everybody busy in the back room, I’ll let you know when the parties over.”
Trevor rolled his eyes. “I hate this. Dad always—”
I grabbed his shoulders. “I know. Believe me. Now just go, I’ll help in the clean-up of his little animals .”
I arrived b ack in the kitchen to silence .
“I was just telling Joe about how you love to write, ” John said.
Oh brother, not that shit. “Oh really?” I put my coffee in the microwave to heat. “Yeah, love me some writing .”
“ S he’s having a hard time balancing priorities with it , but she’s working on that .”
My jaw hardened. Surely he did not.
“What are you writing? ” Joe’s wife asked.
That holy hippie bastard. Fucking priorities?
“ You know, ” Joe began, “ I wrote a story once—”
“ I ’m working on a ménage scene. ” I turned with my heated coffee , speaking loud enough for ole Joe to hear over his conceited crowing. “I’ve been really struggling with it . ” I flopped my left hand out . “ Should Betty Lou let Larry do her up the poop shoot while David watches ?” I flopped out my right hand. “O r should David do Betty while Larry plays with his ding-a-ling?” I grinned like you do at the punch line of a joke then waved a hand at their looks of shock . “ Good Lord, I’m kidding!” This with a guffaw of laughter. “As if
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