Jon had enough. “Let them pass. You and I need to talk.”
Steph spun around to confront him. “This is my night. You shouldn’t even be here.”
“Someone needs to be here! She’s four. You can’t just leave her alone in the apartment with a box of cereal.” He couldn’t believe she’d set the box and jug of milk on the coffee table and walked out the door. No bowl. No spoon. Did she expect Emmy to pour the milk in the box and then dump the cereal into her mouth?
And how dare she grab Emmy like she did?
How often did she lose her temper when she was drunk and do something like that, or worse?
He didn’t need to hear her slurred speech to know she’d been drinking. He could smell the booze, cigarettes, and pot on her.
He didn’t think he’d ever been this angry.
“She was fine. I wasn’t gone that long.”
“You left her alone! Whether it was two minutes or two hours doesn’t matter. You should not have left her at all.”
“She was watching TV. I was only a couple apartments away. She could have come to get me if she needed something.”
“She’s four. She didn’t know where you were. How is she supposed to remember which apartment you went to? They all look alike. In a matter of minutes, she cut herself and could have burned this place down.”
Steph rolled her eyes. “Don’t be dramatic. She broke the microwave. Big deal.”
“It’s a huge deal!” His voice boomed through the apartment. “What if she’d turned on the stove and burned herself? What if that can had done more damage and she got caught in the blast? What if you’d taken your phone with you and she couldn’t call me for help?”
“Yeah, well, I won’t make that mistake again.”
Shock stopped his heart for a second. “Seriously. That’s what you have to say? You won’t leave her a means to get help when you abandon her.”
Steph’s arms went rigid at her sides and she leaned in. “I did not abandon her. I went to see a friend.”
“And got drunk off your ass. Mother of the Year, Steph.”
The snide remark made her eyes blaze with anger. “You think your little blond friend is so great.”
“She’s a thousand times better than you!” He didn’t often yell, but she pushed all his buttons tonight.
The hurt in Steph’s eyes turned to fury. “Then get the fuck out and go be with her. Leave me and Emmy the hell alone.”
“Oh, I’m leaving. And I’m taking Emmy with me.”
“You can’t do that. It’s my night.”
“What are you going to do about it? Call the cops? Go for it. I can’t wait to hear you explain the pot smell coming off you and why you left Emmy alone in this mess.”
“Fuck you. I’m doing the best I can.”
“Even when you’re sober you can barely take care of her properly.”
“Yes, I can.” Steph raked her trembling fingers through her own disheveled hair.
“Really? So Emmy didn’t go to school today without her homework packet and lunch?”
She held her arms out wide. “We were running late. I overslept.” Her hands fell and slapped her thighs.
“Because you were hung over?”
The suggestion made her eyes narrow with rage. “You don’t know anything.”
“I know I’m not leaving Emmy with you tonight.”
Steph grabbed a cigarette from the pack on the table and lit up. “And what about your date with little miss perfect?” She blew a stream of smoke right in his face.
He stepped back before he gave in to the urge to do or say something he’d really regret. “She knows Emmy comes first. She’ll understand.”
“What a saint.” Steph sneered at him. She had no right to be jealous, but that never stopped her from acting out whenever he had someone in his life.
He tried, again, to push her to do the right thing. “You swore things would be different here.”
“You can make new friends, but I can’t?”
“You can’t choose them over our daughter.”
“I didn’t. I wasn’t gone that long.” She really didn’t get it. She didn’t think she’d done anything wrong. “If she hadn’t called you, none of this would be happening.”
“So this is her fault and you’re upset that you got caught?”
“I’m pissed that you and that bitch showed up at my house. You think you can make all the rules and I just have to go along.”
“We have an agreement. If you can’t hold up your end, then I will do whatever I have to do to protect my daughter and keep her safe.”
Steph pointed her finger at her chest. “From me? I’m her mother.”
“Then act like it!” He glanced past her at the wreck of a kitchen and living room. “What happened to this place?” She’d worked hard to clean and organize the apartment. It hadn’t lasted long.
She rolled her eyes. “It’s been a busy week. I’ll clean it up this weekend.”
“You better. Because Emmy’s not coming back here if you don’t.”
Her whole body went rigid. “You can’t do that.”
“I will.” He didn’t care what the agreement they signed said. If she wanted to take him to court, she’d have to explain to a judge why he refused to comply. “Clean up your act, Steph. I’m losing patience. I’ve given you enough chances to get this right.” He went to the entry and found Emmy’s backpack and checked to make sure everything she needed for school was inside.
Steph held the chairback in a death grip. “You can’t take her from me.” The alcohol-fueled bravado fell flat with him.
He went to the table and rummaged through the pile of mail and found Emmy’s packet. He stuffed it into the bag and turned to Steph. “Don’t make me take her away from you.”
With that, he walked out, closing the door behind him on a string of shouted “I hate yous” and “fuck yous.”
He didn’t care how she felt about him. He just wanted her to do right by Emmy.
It took him a minute to spot Trinity and Emmy across the courtyard lying on their backs on a bench with their heads at the center. Trinity’s legs draped off one end, her feet planted on the ground in a pair of sexy black strappy heels. Emmy’s feet hung off the other end in the new pair of purple tennis shoes he bought her.
The anger washed out of him at the sight of the two of them stargazing.
“I wish I had a baby sister,” Emmy announced, startling him. “Then I’d have someone to play with.”
“I have three brothers,” Trinity told her.
“That’s a lot of brothers.” Emmy didn’t sound like she wanted that many siblings.
“With all of them, I wished I could be alone sometimes.”
“Your turn,” Emmy prompted.
For what, Jon didn’t know.
Trinity pointed up at a star. “I wish I could sing like Adele.”
Emmy tipped her head back to try to look at Trinity. “I can sing. Twinkle, twinkle . . .”
Jon listened to her sing the whole song at the top of her lungs. She wasn’t anywhere near as good as Adele, but Trinity clapped for her at the end like she was.