Games of the Heart
They both leaned back, squeezed hands, Rocky promised to be in touch about the meeting and they said their farewells.
By the time she left, Mike had fifteen minutes to get to Mimi’s. It was a couple of blocks, a five minute walk. He had time and the time he had he didn’t use to pick up Darrin’s will.
He picked up Reesee’s report.
He read it and Rocky was right. By paragraph two, it wasn’t about him reading his daughter’s report that was deemed exceptional by her teacher. She’d sucked him in, he’d become lost in it and even after he was done, it didn’t strike him what he was doing and why he was reading it. Just that he found every word interesting and really fucking wanted to reread a book he hadn’t read since high school.
Unfortunately, he was so into it, by the time he was done he was supposed to be at Mimi’s and being late would piss off Audrey. He knew this because his job meant his hours could be erratic and her spending meant his overtime was constant. Still, she expected him when she expected him where she expected him and if he was late or a no-show, she didn’t mind sharing how much that pissed her off. And how much it pissed her off was a lot.
He didn’t need a pissed off Audrey considering he already didn’t want to give her this time or play whatever game she intended to play. She was his kids’ Mom, however, so he had no fucking choice.
He sucked in breath, folded Rees’s report in half, the will in half, shoved both in the inside pocket of his blazer and shrugged it on. Then he took off down the steps to the first floor of the Station. Moving by Betsy at reception, he flicked out two fingers, called goodnight and got the same in return.
Then he pushed through the front door and walked down the sidewalk to Mimi’s.
It was the beginning of March. Spring was there. The temperatures were rising; there was no snow to be found. Yards were greening up. Buds were on the trees. Bulbs were sending up shoots in people’s yards.
Mike lived in Indiana all his life so he was used to adjusting his day to the changeable and sometimes extreme weather patterns. It was second nature. He didn’t notice it. He didn’t savor spring heralding the end of winter. He didn’t give a shit. He was just pleased the warm up meant he could barbeque without freezing his ass off. And he was pleased that the change in the weather indicated that Fin would not have to go out and clear any more streets.
That was all the thought he gave to it.
He pushed open the door to Mimi’s already having spotted Audrey seeing she’d chosen a table in the window.
Seeing it, his mouth got tight.
Calculated. The ‘Burg was a small town and she’d lived in it a long while. Anyone driving or walking past would see him having a coffee with her. They’d wonder. They’d talk. They’d speculate. They’d even make shit up. And everyone by this time knew he was with Dusty. This was courtesy of Sully’s wife, Lorraine not to mention the quintuple threat of Cheryl, Jessie, Mimi, February and Violet, two of those working in the town’s most popular bar, one of them owning the frequented coffee house.
Jesus, Audrey and her games.
He saw she had a mug in front of her, another mug was on the table and a white bag was also sitting on the table.
He didn’t know what was in that bag but he was surprised by its presence. If she didn’t keep a handle on it, Audrey was the kind of woman who would pack on weight easily. And honest to God, sometimes he thought she’d rather slit her wrists than gain an extra pound. She stepped on the scale every morning and every morning he’d brace. This was because the results set the mood in their house until the next day when she again stepped on that fucking scale.
She, luckily, didn’t give a shit about what Mike and the kids ate though she would frequently bitch about the food in the house mostly because it tempted her. But she took great care with every morsel that passed her lips. She also speed-walked three times a week and went to the gym to swim twice. She was as obsessive about these things as shopping. So baked goods from Mimi’s didn’t make sense.
Her apparently having bought him a drink didn’t either. She’d never been particularly polite but after he asked for a divorce that evaporated completely. Any time she spoke to him over the phone or saw him in person, the acid spewed.
He did not like that mug of coffee sitting on the table. Not at all.
As he moved to Audrey, his eyes went to the counter to see if Mimi was there. She wasn’t and the lone girl behind it was with a customer so she didn’t glance at him.
He expected a terse, “You’re late,” when he arrived but Audrey just smiled up at him.
Then she said, “I got you a latte. Butterscotch?”
He stared at her, shocked as shit. Butterscotch lattes were what Reesee would order him if he brought her or both his kids here. He had no clue Audrey knew or even cared that was his preference.
“Yeah,” he grunted as he sat down then forced out a, “Thanks.”
She immediately reached a hand to the bag and slid it his way. “Those are brownies and cookies. For you, No and Rees.”
He kept staring at her.
She’d called No “No”.
Fuck.
And brownies and cookies?
Fuck.
Except for birthdays and Christmases, which she spent a fortune on with a glee that had nothing to do with celebrations and holidays, he didn’t know her ever to make a gesture to him or the kids like that. When they had children, her shopping extended naturally to filling the kids’ closets, dressers and rooms with shit they did not need but it wasn’t kindness or generosity. It was addiction.
“Thanks,” he muttered again and noted she’d told him they were for him, No and Rees but not Dusty. Understandable but also an indication that she was not moving on as she knew he already had.
He tagged his mug, took a sip then set it down.
“You wanna start this?” he invited. “No’s been instructed to order pizza in fifteen minutes and I gotta swing by and pick it up on the way home. I’m sorry I’m late but that means we have even less time. We should get this done.”
She nodded then shared conversationally, “Things are going well at work.”
Jesus. What the fuck? Was this just a chat?
He didn’t have time for this shit.
“That’s good. Pleased for you, Audrey. Now, do we have something to discuss?”
She rubbed her lips together and grabbed her mug to take a drink.
Stalling. Sucking his time. Playing games.
“Audrey…” he warned and her eyes shot to him.
“I don’t like you with another woman.”
Mike sighed and sat back.
Then, quietly, seeking patience, he explained, “We’re divorced. We’ve been that way a while. We’re gonna stay that way. I’m gettin’ that you’re strugglin’ with that now for whatever reason but it’s the way it is. You need to learn how to deal and however you do that is yours. I’m not involved. If this is about me and Dusty, that has not one thing to do with you. We talk, we talk about our kids. That’s it. Anything else in my life, for you, is off-limits.”
“That isn’t true,” she returned, speaking quietly as well. “She’s in your home. Our kids live in your home –”
Mike instantly leaned forward, his eyes locked to hers and he growled, “Do not fuckin’ go there.”
“I should understand who’s involved in our children’s lives, Mike,” she stated and he studied her, with effort forcing down his rising anger.
She wasn’t pissed. She wasn’t catty. She wasn’t sharp. She seemed calm and rational.
He didn’t get it.
“You met her at Reesee’s party,” he reminded her.
“Yes, we spoke for about a second. But where does she come from? What does she do? What –?”
He cut her off. “None of that is any of your business.”
“No and Rees are at an impressionable age so I disagree.”
“Are you shittin’ me?” Mike asked softly, his efforts at controlling hi
s anger failing rapidly.
“Well…no,” she replied.
“Rees has got her period,” Mike announced and Audrey blinked.
“What?” she asked.
“Rees has got her period,” Mike repeated. “She’s usin’ tampons. You good with that?”
Mike watched her head jerk back then she stammered, “I…uh…”
Mike spoke into her stammering. “I don’t know shit about it. Is it cool for a fifteen year old girl to use tampons?”
Audrey’s brows drew together. “Why are we talking about this?”
Why were they talking about this?
Jesus.
“Because our daughter has become a woman in that sense,” Mike explained tersely and unnecessarily. “I don’t buy her that shit but she’s got it. I don’t know anything about it and there is no fuckin’ way she’s gonna talk to me. No found that shit in the bathroom while he was lookin’ for somethin’ else, God knows what. It was buried, hidden behind a bunch of other shit. I didn’t think much about it until Dusty talked to me. Since Dusty spoke to me, what I think now is that every girl gets her period and every woman lives with that until they don’t have to live with it anymore. And there’s absolutely no reason she should be hiding tampons. Her brother is a teenager and he might rib her because he’s a teenager. But he’ll one day be a man with a woman who has to deal with that shit so he’ll also have to learn to keep his mouth shut and roll with the cycle. I can teach him that. But who’s takin’ care of our daughter?”
Her face was pale when Mike was done speaking and he knew, whoever it was, it was not Audrey.
“Not you,” he whispered. “Shit’s goin’ down with her body and now she’s got a new boyfriend and she’s fuckin’ clueless with nowhere to turn but her friends who also are fuckin’ clueless.”
“I’ll speak with her,” Audrey said immediately.
“Not to be a dick but I’m not sure she’s open to that from you. You’ve been pissed, bitter and self-absorbed a long time, Audrey, so you bought that. Our kids do time with you. They live with me but they do time with you. My advice, you stop worryin’ about who I got in my bed and that finally wakin’ you up to the fact we are irrevocably done and you start worryin’ about your kids. No’s gonna be in college soon, Reesee not long after. You let them get that far without steppin’ up, you’ll find later it’ll be harder to break through. And you’ll also find that you’ve missed out on something precious that there’s no way in hell you’ll get back.”
“Since meeting Dusty, I’ve already found that, Mike,” she whispered, eyes on him, wounded, message crystal clear.
Shit, shit, fuck.
“Not my problem.”
To that, she announced, “I’m still in love with you.”
Shit, shit, fuck.
“Again,” he growled, “not my problem.”
“Mike –” she started and he leaned deep into her.
“Honest to God? Honest to fuckin’ God?” he ground out. “I just told you your daughter got her period, has no clue but does have a new boyfriend and you don’t even ask who she’s seein’? You just wanna talk about you?” He sat back. “Nothin’s changed. Not one fuckin’ thing. You’re learning about yourself? Bullshit. You were, you’d learn you got serious issues, you’re a shit mother and you need to start dancin’ fast before the best things in your life you got left leave you behind.”
Her face looked like he’d struck her and he didn’t give a fuck.
Instead, he clipped, “We done?”
“I don’t…I don’t want this Dusty talking to Rees about –” she started.
“Too late,” Mike cut her off. “Reesee trusts Dusty and so do I. It’s already happening.”
Audrey straightened her shoulders. “I don’t know this woman. I’m not comfortable with her guiding my daughter through important times in her life.”
“Clue in, Audrey, if you’d been the Mom you should have been, your daughter would not have needed to turn to my woman in the first fuckin’ place.”
Again, she looked stricken but Mike again did not give one, single fuck. She’d bought that too and it was not his fucking problem.
“We done?” he repeated.
He watched with waning patience as she pulled her shit together.
Then she said quietly, “I’m sorry. Honestly, Mike, this was not how I intended this talk to go.”
“Well, this is where it went. Now, we done?”
She held his eyes.
Then she nodded.
He stood, leaving the once-sipped latte behind.
“Don’t forget the treats,” she said quickly, grabbing the bag and holding it out to him.
He stared at it a second wishing he was the type of man to walk away. But he wasn’t that type of man. His kids loved the shit Mimi made and their mother bought it for them. So he took the bag only for her not to let it go.
Fuck.
His eyes went to her.
“Really, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Honestly, this was not how I wanted this to go.”
“You get one more thing,” he told her, “and that is to explain what you wanted from this.”
“We need to be…closer…or something. For the kids. We need to improve our relationship. I just got off-track straight off the bat. And…I…well, truly, Mike, I’m sorry.”
She let go of the bag.
Mike didn’t let go of her eyes.
“You want that, first you show me you give a shit about our children. At the same time you lay off about Dusty and I don’t mean just to me. I hear that you’re sayin’ shit to our kids or any-fucking-body about my woman, we got problems. You manage to do all that then we’ll talk about improving our relationship. Until then, Audrey, we’re back to where we were a couple of weeks ago.”
She held his eyes and nodded.
Mike finished with, “Reesee’s English teacher spoke to me. She told me Reesee’s exceptionally gifted. The teacher’s name is Raquel Layne. You give a shit, you might wanna contact her and see what that’s about. I’ll be sitting down with Rocky and Reesee to discuss this and how we’re gonna open up avenues for Reesee to explore it. You want on board with that, as her mother, obviously, you’re welcome. But it is likely going to entail Reesee either going to a private school for gifted students or camps, both of which are gonna cost some cake. You want a part of that you’re welcome but that means you layin’ off the shoes. Considering what I read of Reesee’s work, Rocky’s not blowin’ sunshine so if you wanna give your daughter the attention and future she deserves, I’d suggest starting to lay off the shoes now.”
Her lips were parted in surprise but Mike didn’t give a fuck about that either. He was done.
And he communicated this by muttering, “Drive safe,” then, without delay, he walked away.
* * * * *
Furious, Mike grabbed his jacket, shrugged it on and prowled down the hall.
No, Rees and Fin were on the sectional watching TV. He’d had pizza with his kids then Rees got a text from Fin and asked if he could come over. Mike had said yes. Fin came, Mike gave him his usual warning with his eyes then he went up to his office to read through Darrin Holliday’s will.
Now he had to get to the farm, talk to Dusty and Dean, get Debbie’s home phone number and ream her fucking ass.
Which meant either kicking Fin out or leaving his daughter with her new boyfriend with only her nearly seventeen year old brother as chaperone.
He wanted to kick Fin out. It was an instinct he had just because he was a Dad.
But as he stalked into his living room, he knew he wasn’t going to do it. And he wasn’t going to do it because he loved his daughter, it was early, just going on eight o’clock and she liked being with her boyfriend. And further Mike wasn’t going to do this because her boyfriend just lost his Dad and Mike knew Fin got something good out of being with his girl. The alternative was being at home in a house hazed with grief and a Mom who was trying his shit with her weakness.
> Fuck.
“I’m goin’ to the farm,” he announced, all three kids looked to him, surprise on their faces but Mike only looked to No. “Everyone, including you, stays in this room or the kitchen. Am I clear?”
No’s face got knowing and a teasing light flared in his eyes. Mike was clear. And, likely, Rees and/or Fin were going to catch some of No’s shit.
This was good. No handing out shit would mean they’d have to deal with it, react to it and would have less time to find ways to get into what Mike would consider trouble.
“Yeah, Dad,” No muttered.
Mike cut his gaze through Fin and Rees who were sitting close but not cuddling on the couch.
He had no clue if cuddling would commence once he left considering No was there. He doubted it considering No would jump on that faster than you could blink. He also would likely never know. Which was good.
Without another word, he walked toward the backdoor but was stopped when he heard Fin call, “Mr. Haines?”
He looked back and gave Fin his eyes. Fin’s face was blank but his eyes were intense.
“Everything okay at the farm?” Fin asked and Mike held his eyes.
He was worried, good at hiding it but still concerned.
Jesus, half the time, if Mike didn’t know, he’d think that kid was thirty-five not seventeen.
“Yeah, Fin. All good. Brief you when I get back,” Mike answered.
Fin jerked up his chin.
Totally thirty-five. Jesus.
Mike didn’t know what to do with that either.
He went out the door, down his deck, through the yard and out the back gate. On the short walk through the chill air, he tried to pull his shit together.
Debbie was not only a bitch, the bitch was a bitch.
Mike had been right. Darrin was no fool and his sister hadn’t fooled him. There was a long, detailed codicil in the will that stated that not only could the land not be broken up, but also no decisions could be made on its sale or any alterations made on or to the land until Finley Declan Holliday had reached majority and could participate in these decisions. Further, the inheritance Deborah and Dusty Holliday came into upon their brother’s death was not equal distribution of the land, its structures and its assets. Not even fucking close. It was just enough for them to assist in any decisions Fin, as a young adult, might make and for them to have hands in their family legacy. And it further stated that Fin was entitled to the opportunity to buy them out at any time but Fin or Kirb were the only individuals who had this right. The farm would not leave family hands unless Fin or Kirb owned all the land outright, should they buy out their aunts’ and each other’s portions, and made this decision sometime in their adulthood.