I hold the DVD in my hand, the contents of what’s inside causing my desire to burn even more.
“Fuck this.” I shove the DVD back into the pile of movies underneath all the other ones, shut the glass doors to my entertainment center and head to the kitchen. “Ice cream solves all.”
I abandon my bowl of popcorn and instead dish myself up a bowl of strawberry ice cream.
Sitting back down on the couch, I channel surf for a good ten minutes.
“AHH.” I click the television off.
I grab the newest Cosmo magazine on my end table and scour through it to see if I missed any articles when I read through it last week. I toss it back on the end table once I see that I even did the quiz.
Replacing the magazine with my phone, I thumb through Instagram and Snapchat. Blah, blah, blah. Nothing new.
Since when did I become so boring?
I decide to text Zoe.
Me: Hey, game night still on for tomorrow night?
The phone rings immediately with her name on the screen.
“Hey,” I answer.
“You know I have two kids. That means one hand for each one, plus it’s bath time.” I hear splashing in the background. “To answer your question though, yes, our house. Are you bringing someone?” She laughs, and I roll my eyes.
“Shut up.” I rise from the couch and rinse out my bowl, placing it in the dishwasher.
“You ready to talk yet?” she asks. “CAIDEN!” she screams, and I pull my phone away from my ear for a second.
I hear his laughter a second later.
“Stop it. You’re scaring Mommy. Do you want me to have a heart attack?”
“What’s a heart attack?” he asks.
“What’s he doing?” I ask.
“The kid thinks it’s funny to see how long he can hold his breath.”
“A Houdini in the making.” I walk back over to my living room and sit down on the couch.
“No. He’s a doctor in the making. Isn’t that right?”
“I want to be like Daddy when I grow up,” Caiden says followed by more splashing.
“What about Mommy?” Zoe questions and I can’t believe the best entertainment for me on a Friday night is listening to my cousin and her young son.
“Mommies are boring. Daddy plays with tools.”
“His own tool,” Zoe mumbles.
I laugh.
“If you played with it I wouldn’t have to.” Vin’s voice comes through the line, obviously having joined their little party.
“Now you come up when he’s almost done,” Zoe says sounding annoyed and then taking me off speakerphone.
“You’re so much better at it than I am.”
I know without being there that Zoe is rolling her eyes at him.
Then again, like with Victoria and Reed, I’m forced to wait while they make-up or at least whisper to one another while kissing noises sound through the phone.
“Your son is in the room,” I say.
“Chelsea,” Zoe answers to Vin when he asks who she’s speaking to.
“Hey, Chels, game on tomorrow. Want me to fix you up tomorrow night?”
“Tell Vin, I’m good.”
“She’s good. Her ex is back in the picture.” Zoe’s tone is one of amusement. Like this is all a big joke, but she’s not sitting here trying to keep herself cooled down enough not to get herself off while watching a DVD of her and her ex.
“What? She isn’t bringing him, is she?” Vin asks.
“No,” I say.
“Maybe,” Zoe overrides my answer.
“Shit babe, hurry this up, we need to practice. That guy and his sports trivia knowledge used to beat us every time.”
I smile remembering when I used to win game night for that brief moment Dean was in my life.
“Um, Vin, you’re missing a few key elements there. I think you’re killing brain cells from playing with your tool so much,” Zoe quips.
“I know, I know. I’m supposed to put him on the cross and burn him, but I have some empathy for the guy. What happened couldn’t have been easy for him.”
“That didn’t mean he had the right to treat Chelsea the way he did,” Zoe fights my battle for me.
“Hey,” I try to interrupt.
“He was going through a hard time,” Vin argues.
“Seriously? You’re going to take his side?” Zoe’s playful tone has turned serious.
“Hey, Zo,” I interrupt again.
“There are no sides. They’re divorced,” Vin says. “Come on bud, out of the bath.”
“One more time,” Caiden says.
“No. Do not let him keep going under and holding his breath,” Zoe says using her mom voice.
Nothing good can come from this. Mark my words. Nothing.
“What’s the big deal? I’m right here,” Vin says.
“Hey, Zoe, I’m going to let you go,” I say, fiddling with the seam on my pajamas.
“No, no, Chels. Hold on a second.”
“Oookkkaaayy.” I sigh.
“See look, he’s still down there. Are his eyes open? They are. He’s challenging us.” Zoe is none too pleased.
“He’s playing,” Vin says with a chuckle. His voice seems to hold a little bit of pride.
“Playing my ass.”
Then I hear a big tumble, Caiden wailing, and their arguing voices.
“See, I told you,” Zoe snaps.
Click.
I hang up. I’m not going to make my Friday night worse by listening to two married people argue about their child.
Read. I can totally pick up a book. I rise from the couch once more and pull out my iPad, scanning through the new release charts for a book.
“No romance,” I murmur to myself, my finger scrolling down past all the covers with abs and couples hugging and almost kissing. “Fiction,” I sing-song, clicking on horror. I like horror.
I read a few blurbs and finally settle on one. After downloading it, I open the first page and start reading, trying to lose myself in a story about a killer of women. Single women that no one will miss. Huh.
I plop my iPad on the couch beside me and zero in on the glass doors under my television.
“Bad idea,” I say to myself, shaking my head hoping some sense will fall into it. My feet land on my warm rug. “The hell with it.”
My hand is poised on the handle of the glass door when my phone rings. I glance down, intending to ignore Zoe, but it’s my other cousin, her brother, Mikey. He’s always good for a laugh and a good time.
“Hey cuz.” I flop back down on the couch, hoping this call will improve my mood.
All I hear is loud music pumping and screaming in the background.
“Get dressed, I’m sending a car to you.”
“I’m in my pajamas. Why don’t you afterparty here? And bring some Mickey D’s with you.”
“Hell no. I got a 911 call from Zoe that entails getting you out of your pajamas, preferably into a dress, and out of your place. The car will be there in ten minutes.”
“Where are you?” I ask, already heading toward my bedroom.
“The driver knows where I am. The doorman has your name. Stop sulking because I’m gonna be really pissed if I have to leave this bar and the girl I’ve been warming up all night to come get your ass.”