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“A job interview is what someone goes to when they have no money,” he continues. “You put on some fancy clothes, lie to them about what your strengths and weaknesses are, kiss their ass, and then boom! You get hired and start making money.”
Who knows what the hell is on her hands? She’s a kid. It could be any number of things. Gum, chocolate, the entrails of her former nanny….
Unfortunately, being alone with Mia was like being alone with sixty-five rabid cats who just did a few lines of coke.
“Question. Do you have an awesome husband who will keep an eye on your kid at a moment’s notice, so you can go to a bar and get trashed? Asking for a friend,” I add, starting up the truck and backing out of the driveway as I hold the phone between my cheek and shoulder. “As a matter of fact, I do. On a scale of one to ten, how trashed are we talking?” Ember asks. “Eighty-seven.” “Shit. That’s defcon, emergency level drinking. I’m in.
“Where’s our kid? Did he drive you here? He can’t drive yet, can he? Oh my God, how long have I been gone?”
“I love you,” I tell Ember. “You’re being weird. But I love you too. Go screw my brother’s brains out so he’ll stop bitching at me,” she demands.
I should feel bad that I snapped at the poor kid, but Lachlan is a dumb-as-fuck name and his parents should be pistol-whipped. Fuck. Lachlan isn’t a dumb name. It’s actually kind of cool. What is wrong with me?
For the first time in days, I feel myself smile thinking about that memory. She was reading a piece she’d written about the inhumane treatment of cows in slaughter houses, and since I was sitting at the desk right in front of her, I kept making mooing sounds under my breath, so only she could hear me. She continuously stumbled over her words, shooting me dirty looks, until she finally cracked and called me a fat cow who deserved to have his stomach slit and his guts spilled all over the floor. We spent a week in detention together, and I still don’t regret it.
“There’s going to be nothing simple about raising two girls. Especially when they hit puberty,” I remind her. “Speaking of that, how good are you at giving the birds and the bees talk? Because I’m warning you right now, I want no part of that shit. It’s already giving me nightmares.”
