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Chapter Two

When I left the house the next morning, I had a moment of pure shock. The outside world was so quiet. I heard birds on the beach and the rush of the waves on the sand. I shook my head from side to side; I felt like I had been submerged in water for an extended length of time. Between the lack of sleep and the sudden quietness, I felt like I could crawl under the azalea bush in our front yard and sleep for a few years.

I got into my Nissan Pathfinder, a gift from Nick for Valentine’s Day, and made my way through downtown Tampa. I had a goal in mind: the sign whatever papers Hunter needed me to sign and then get home. Or at least find an empty parking lot to sleep for a couple hours.

When I had told my mom where I was going she had immediately gone on the defensive.

“Are you going to take security?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think I’m going to need security.”

“That’s the problem; you think you won’t.”

“If I come in with security, that’s just going to cause more problems.”

“I don’t see why you can’t just sign these papers through your lawyers.”

“He obviously needs this done quickly. If it gets him off my back, then fine.”

“It just seems fishy. I mean, why would he fly all the way down here to get papers signed?”

I didn’t have an answer for that. I finally got mom to agree to watch Brooklyn and we spent a long night playing pass the Brooklyn.

“I won’t be long,” I had promised her.

I pulled up to the McDonald’s; all the old folks were gathered inside over steaming cups of coffee and the morning’s newspaper.

The first thing I did when getting inside was order a caramel latte. The sugar rush perked me up like a drug. My eyes gazed over my straw as I took a second spot. I saw Hunter at a table in the corner; his eyes glued on me.

I headed over, still sucking on the straw as if it was my lifeline. I saw a couple Egg McMuffin wrappers and empty hash brown containers. His penchant for eating hadn't disappeared; in fact his face seemed bloated and ill defined. He had obviously shown up early. I used to be that way; then I had a daughter who couldn’t stop crying. I settled down in a seat across from him.

“Hi,” Hunter said. He took a sip of orange juice. I set my cup down in front of me.

“Hey.”

His eyes roved my face; I saw them drop down to my chest and then back up. I squirmed in my seat.

“Where’s the papers?”

“What?”

“The papers? You know, the ones you need me to sign?”

“Oh.”

He reached down into his laptop case and began to fish around. I took another sip.

“You look great,” he said, his eyes focused on the papers shoved into his case.

First Nick had told me I looked great, now Hunter. What was it? The aroma of baby puke (not that I hadn’t showered this morning) or the bags under my eyes? Of course, I would take Nick’s compliment; from Hunter it made me want to wrinkle my nose. In four years of marriage he only complimented me maybe twice.

“Thanks,” I said awkwardly. Hunter pulled out one paper than began to dig around some more.

“Where’s Jess?” I said, for lack of any better conversation to make.

“We’re, uh, not together anymore,” he said. I noted the tension in his voice. My fingertips drummed my plastic cup.

“Gee, why not?” I said. “Did it have anything to do with making her an Internet slut by selling that video of her and me?”

He paused in his search and looked over at me.

“I made a mistake.”

I took that as confirmation that I had hit the nail on the head.

“What about your little girl?”

He looked over at me.

“Ella?”

“Is that her name?”

He nodded.

“Well, what’s going on with that?”

“Jess has custody.” Hunter ran a hand through his unkempt hair.

“Ah,” I said leaning back. “So let me guess. You needed to sell the house to help pay child support?”

He winced, but he didn’t correct me.

“Gee, paybacks are a bitch,” I said. I couldn’t help it; I felt angry. Hunter’s eyes narrowed.

“Look who’s calling the kettle black,” he said. “You spread your legs the first time Carter even looks your way.”

“Believe it or not, I did give you a little bit of consideration,” I said evenly. “More than you ever gave me.”

He put another piece of paper on the pile and shoved everything my way. I rooted through my purse for a pen. I studied the papers.

I was definitely not a lawyer; but I wasn’t stupid. Hunter frowned.

“All you have to do is sign.”

“That’s fine. I’m just reading through these first.”

I was glad I did. The papers weren’t to get my name off of the house; it was to get his name off the house. I laughed incredulously. I glanced over at Hunter; he avoided my gaze. I could feel the anger radiating from him.

“So let me see if I get this straight,” I said. “I do the dumb girl routine and sign these, you skip out on the house payments and then I’m stuck with the house while you get off scot free?”

He didn’t answer.

“Can I also assume that there is no buyer chomping at the bit to buy the house?”

“It’s not like Carter can’t afford it,” he said bitterly.

I shook my head. “That’s not the point. When are you going to stop fucking me over?” I shoved the unsigned papers back over to him. “I’m not signing.”

“If you don’t---“

“If I don’t, what? I’m not scared of you, Hunter.”

I stood up, clutching my cup. Beads of condensation dripped over my fingers.

“Sorry you wasted a trip,” I said coldly. I turned and walked out of the restaurant.

I beeped my car and had just gotten in when the driver’s side door was yanked roughly over. Hunter’s hands gripped my shoulders; I had no choice but to turn towards him. I detected a deep desperation in his eyes.

“You can’t leave,” he said. My fingers crawled over my seat towards my purse.

“Hunter, I swear to God if you don’t let go of me there’s going to be trouble.”

He laughed. “What trouble? I don’t see any big bad Backstreet security guards coming at me.” He leaned closer to me, his lips only a fraction of an inch away from my own.

At the same moment my hand slid into my purse and made contact with what I had been looking for. I felt his grip on my shoulders loosen; I knew now was my chance. Without hesitating I thrust my hand forward and pressed the button on my taser.

Hunter dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. I hesitated for a moment. On one hand, it seemed wrong to leave him lying on the ground peeing himself like a toddler. On the other hand, he had tried to kiss me. Blech. I hit reverse and tore out of the parking lot.

I’d let the elderly McDonald’s coffee drinkers handle him.

With my dream of catching a few hours of sleep in the parking lot gone, I headed towards home. On my way I hit speed dial on my phone.

A couple of Backstreet security guards didn’t sound like such a bad idea after all.

---------------------------------------------------

“You did what?!”

I winced. In one ear Brooklyn was screaming; in the other Nick was screaming at me through my cell phone. I was in the midst of a Carter sandwich. As good as that may sound to all the dirty minded girls out there, this was not a pleasant occasion.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I just thought I’d be in and out.”

“Well obviously Hunter wanted to be in and out too. But, I don’t mean the restaurant,” Nick said angrily.

“I don’t know for certain that he tried to kiss me. It just kinda…seemed like that. He went a little loopy. So I tased him.”

“Did he go down?”

“Oh yeah.”

“You’re giving me a heart attack, honey,” Nick said. I could almost picture him hitting his head lightly against the wall of his hotel room. “What if he tracks down the house?”

“Listen, I know I had a moment of stupidity. But I fixed it. I have security in the house until you get back. And it wasn’t like he followed me. He was lying on the ground. Taking nice electricity fueled nap.”

“Speaking of which…is that Brooklyn screaming her lungs out?”

“Do we have any other child?”

“Okay, stupid question. Who’s doing security?”

“Marcus and Roger.”

“Marcus? You got Marcus?”

“Yeah, I got Marcus. He just got done doing security for Fall Out Boy or something. See, we’re in good hands.”

Nick sighed again. “I miss you.”

I closed my eyes. “I miss you too.”

“I’ll be home Thursday.”

“I’ll be at the airport waiting for you.”

“Bring security.”

I rolled my eyes, but smiled. “I will.”

“Love you, Liv.”

“Love you too.”

“Love, you Brooke!”

Brooklyn just wailed. I hung up and rocked back and forth in the chair. Miraculously I got Brooklyn quiet enough to begin breast feeding when Marcus walked in the room.

“Everything o---sorry.”

I had never seen the man blush; the sight of a humongous blue-veined white boob was all it took. He turned around and headed back down the hall. I looked down at Brooke; her eyes were half closed. I prayed with a full tummy she might actually want to sleep. After ten minutes her breathing seemed to slow and begin the rhythmic pattern of sleep. I almost cried. I carefully reaffixed my bra and leaned back, keeping her nuzzled to my chest.

Basking in the glory of amazing silence, I too fell asleep.

-------------------------------------------

Three hours of sleep was all it took for Brooklyn to regain her strength. Hour after endless hour she began to build her crescendo of wails. Mom and I were almost immune to it by now. Even though nothing worked, we still paced the halls and sang the same off-key lullabies.

All through the night she cried; as the sun came up, she cried. By seven o’clock in the morning Marcus came into the nursery as I was changing her, looking wide-eyed and a little stressed out.

“Everything okay?” I asked him as I secured the sides of the diaper.

“I was just going to ask you the same thing,” he said. He stared at Brooklyn. He almost looked, well, afraid. “I’ve never heard a baby cry this long.”

“It’s colic,” I explained as I scooped her back up. She pressed against my hand, her head tilting back slightly, the better to push air up her windpipe.

“Roger left,” Marcus explained.

“What?”

“He couldn’t take it anymore. He said he’d rather be shot.”

I opened my mouth, but I really couldn’t think of anything to say. In a way, I almost knew what Roger meant.

“Nick will be home Thursday,” I finally said. It seemed like the only thing I could say.

“He owes me,” Marcus said, backing out of the room. His hand went to the gun strapped to a hip holster. “Big time.”

I stared down at my little angry tomato. I pressed my lips to her forehead.

“Sweetie,” I said with my lips right next to her baby powdery skin. “You are a poster child for abstinence.”

For one shining moment, she paused in her cries. I swear she smiled.

Something told me she was determined to stay an only child.

And she was off to a great start.