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I quickly close them again when I realize he’s berating me for not getting back to him after my previous message. If only he knew how lucky he was to live in ahousehis parents paid for. To never have to deal with shared walls, or worry about where to go next.

He’s entitled and clueless, and probably won’t ever understand that. Not that it’s completely his fault, but it irks me just the same.

“I was supposed to work today, Reya.” That’s how he greets me when he answers the phone.

“I thought you would have taken care of that when I first asked if she could stay with you last night.”

“I had,” he grumbles. “Then you asked when you could pick her up, and I thought you were saying it was up to me to decide. I decided. I gave them a time I’d be in, and it’s now three hours past that.”

I roll my eyes, enjoying it less than when he can actually see it.

“I fell asleep after not getting a single minute of it last night. Forgive me for requiring that.”

“Then you shouldn’t have asked at all until you knew you’d be up,” he says.

“And then you’d complain about not hearing from me all day. I wouldn’t have done anything right either way. I’ll be there in twenty to pick her up.”

I go to hang up, but his next words stop me.

“Maybe you should make yourself comfortable with the idea of Raquel watching her sometimes. It would make things like this so much easier.”

My protective mom instincts lurch to the surface, and I practically growl into the phone like a wild animal.

“I’m never going to be comfortable with some random woman being responsible for my daughter, just like you wouldn’t if the roles were reversed here.”

“She’s not random,” he says with a raised voice, exposing his frustration. “Her and Lia get along great. The two of them would be just fine for a few hours.”

Oh, that stupid nickname they’ve come up with for her isnotmy favorite thing.

“You’ve probably already done it before, right? Just another thing I’m being lied to about?”

“Jesus, no. I haven’t. You act like I’m keeping all these secrets from you, but believe it or not, I want things to be smooth between us. I’m not trying to start an argument.”

“If you didn’t want to argue, you shouldn’t have convinced Dahlia to be a part of your scheming,” I tell him.

“It wasn’t scheming. It was two days!” he shouts.

The amount of time is news to me, but it’s irrelevant. It could've been two hours. He still lied.

“You’d lose your shit if I had her around some girlfriend you’ve never met, even if it was just fortwo days.”

“I’d trust your judgment,” he says, lowering his voice.

“Yeah, okay,” I say dismissively. I don’t believe a word that comes out of his mouth. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

I get my electric kettle started, so I can make a cup of tea on my way out the door. I brush through my hair with my fingers, which is longer than it’s been in years. I’ve always kept my curly mop of hair nice and short. I suppose it’s still considered short, but I canceled a haircut appointment a while back and never rescheduled. Now it’s almost down to my shoulders, and I’m liking it more and more every day. Especially now that I can put half of it up in a messy little bun, which is the look I go for today to hide the part that has fallen flat thanks to its time against my pillow.

I throw on some black pants that are just as loose and comfy as sweats, but look slightly less lazy. I pair it with a purple, skin tight, long sleeve tee. I’ll throw a coat over my arm, but I probably won’t wear it. I’ve become used to the bite of the cold on days like today.

Coats are strictly for wet weather.

6

“Look here, princess. This one is blue.” My dad points out another ice cream flavor while he holds Dahlia in his arms so she can see them all. “Oh, and they have bubble gum! You like bubble gum, don’t you?”

“But it’s not pink.” She tilts her head to the side. “Isn’t it supposed to be pink?” she asks me.

I lean forward to look at the flavor in question. It’s definitely usually pink, but the tub in front of theBubblegumlabel is solid white.