Chapter 8 All You Deserve

• “Mom! I’m gonna be late!”
• I smiled and turned around. Elliot was running toward me in his little school outfit with his blue backpack. Patting my hands on my apron, I pulled him into a hug.
• “Good morning, pumpkin.”
• “Mmm…mmmm….we….nneeee…..goooo….”
• I let go and he exaggerated taking in breaths. “What’s got you so excited about school today?”
• “We are having animals come today and they have a frog!”
• Smiling, my son’s newest obsession has been frogs, but his inability to find a frog at our local parks has left him depressed for the last couple months. When he heard there were going to be animals at his Pre-K class, he specifically asked for a frog. I didn’t know if they did actually have one, but it sounded like someone made a promise he was going to hold them accountable for.
• “Alright, sweetheart. We will go now.” I pulled off my apron and took his hand. “Mike, I’m going to take Elliot to school. I’ll be back in a half hour.”
• “Sounds good. Have fun, kiddo!”
• Elliot went up to Mike and they completed a fist bump and secret handshake that ended in a turkey butt wiggle. It made me laugh every time, but I tried not to let it show because the two of them were so in sync. I refused to make fun of them, but the customers who caught it always got a chuckle out of it.
• “See you, Uncle M!”
• “Alright! Let’s go!”
• Elliot took my hand and we started the fifteen minute walk to his preschool. We talked about the anatomy of the frog and, of course, every single fact that one could know about frogs. Elliot was something of a genius and I knew damn well he got it from his father because there was no way I was that smart when I was his age. If anything, I was more musical at his age. He had started to show interest in musical instruments, but I hadn’t been able to show him anything firsthand. Just old videos of my own concerts or the videos I had of his father. Those he played on repeat.
• For a long time, I thought of just raising him by saying he didn’t have a father or just avoiding the question. He was always curious though, and I found it harder and harder to keep it up. So I explained to him his father had duties he needed to attend to and couldn’t be with us. I showed him photos as well as all the photos and videos I had taken of us. At least, the appropriate photos and videos I had of our four weeks together before the incident.
• “Mom! I’m going in with Jan!” Elliot let go of my hand and rushed off to hold hands with one of the little girls in his class.
• Smiling, I waved at Jan’s mom who had dropped her off as well. She walked over to me and smiled.
• “He is all she talks about. Elliot this…Elliot that…”
• I laughed. “I wish I could say the same, but he is so wrapped up in his frog obsession I think I know more about frogs now than I ever did when I was dissecting them in high school.”
• “Oh god. I’ll take your son over frogs, thanks.” She smiled. “How are you doing? How’s the cafe?”
• “Busy as hell. At this point, I might need to hire a part-timer just to help Mike up front. I’m glad business is good but man it’s hectic sometimes. How are you? How’s…her father?”
• She smiled but it was strained. “Tough. Trying to save face in front of her. I know we said we would try to keep it together for her, but honestly, if I’m in for the next fifteen years of the kind of relationship we have now…” She shook her head. “I don’t think I want any part of it. For her and for me.”
• “Have you guys tried reaching out to a counselor?”
• “I mean…I think we are past…”
• I shook my head and took her hand with my left. “Not for your marriage. For your friendship and cohabitation. Counseling doesn’t need to be for getting your marriage back. It can be for just getting a semi-cohesive relationship. At least try it before you give it all up. For her, you can work something out, I’m sure. And if you decide you can’t, you will have someone who can help you work through the specifics of it.”
• She nodded and smiled, this time it did reach her eyes. “Thanks. What about yours?”
• I rolled my eyes. “I’ve still got the bet running. This is my month. So if he calls now, I win the bet. An easy four hundred.”
• Laughing, she squeezed my hand. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay with it? I mean, even Jan talks about Elliot’s father.”
• I smiled and looked back to where my son last was. “I’ve never hidden who his father was and one day, he will most likely want to meet him and I won’t stop him. At least until he is at an age where he can understand and not harbor any anger towards the man, and I do my best to not let anger fester there. I love him, with all my heart and my soul and I’d be lying if that man didn’t take a piece of me with him.”
• Chuckling, I lifted my arm and clenched my fist. “But he’s getting married to the person I knew he would always need to get married to. I think deep down I always knew I would lose him. I thought it would be when his family found out about what happened but…it is what it is.”
• “Stay strong girl. You might not show anger in front of your son, but that man deserves nothing but your anger. You kick his ass and show him when he does call. I’m not a betting woman but I know I wouldn’t bet against you.” She patted me on the shoulder and I smiled
• “I need to head back! Mike will kill me if I’m later than a half hour. I’ll talk to you later. I hope you don’t get the frog talk after today!”
• “You as well! I hope him actually seeing and touching one makes him calm down on the facts.”
• We waved goodbye and I raced back down the streets to the cafe. Opening up the door, I slid in and threw my apron on. Taking care of the customers at the register, I turned and Mike started making drinks. At this time, he hit the playlist and we both started to sing. Some of the usual customers joined in and I knew a few of them started live-streaming to our official account, but I didn’t mind. Mike and I have always sung from the beginning of the cafe. I could never truly get music out of my life and I never wanted to, either.
• The lunch rush started and the bakery items flew off the shelf. I started to load the glass with fresh sandwiches and other snacks I made during the lull between breakfast and lunch. A lot of the businessmen and women came down for their sixth cup of coffee and a quick bite before heading back up to the buildings. The phone started to ring and I groaned.
• “Mike! Grab that! I’m mid Americano!”
• “Yeah yeah! I got it!”
• I turned and poured the espresso over the ice water and put the lid on the coffee, making sure to stir it three times. Turning around, I smiled and nodded to the customer. Leaning back, I looked at Mike, who had a furrowed brow and a wrinkled nose. He spoke up again and rolled his eyes. Pulling the phone away from him, he made eye contact with me.
• “Hey Ev, you called it. Stan and Jacob owe you two hundred.”
• It took me a second, but I started to laugh. Clutching my stomach and the side of the counter, I leaned over and laughed hysterically. Of course, I would be right. Of course, he would call today. Shaking my head, I looked back at the muffin mix I was in the middle of before I dropped everything to help Mike.
• “One second, let me get this flour loaded and I’ll grab the phone from you.”
• I walked back to the mix and I started scooping in the flour needed. Turning on the machine, I set the timer and the power to make sure it didn’t get over-mixed. Brushing my hands on my apron, I walked back over to the phone and picked it up.
• “Alright. Of course, it had to be in the middle of our busy time. Why the hell not after hours or in the early morning? What’s your name, lawyer of the great and almighty fucktard Anderson?”
• Jan’s mom was right. This man deserved nothing but my anger. I could never hate him. That fact pissed me off as much as it pissed Mike off when we spoke about him. Honestly though, I couldn’t hate him because I loved him so damn much it hurt. Everything and everyone surrounding him, though, deserved every ounce of my fury. All my pent-up frustration.
• “My name is Derek, Derek Johns.”
• I rolled my eyes. “Great, two first names. Off to a great start.”
• “Miss Evelyn…”
• Did this guy think I was a joke or something? I shot back at him. “I think the fact that you’re calling means you can’t call me ‘Miss,’ so get to your fucking point, Derek Johns.”
• “Mrs. Evelyn then, I represent Mr. Anderson as his personal lawyer and attorney. We would like to request your presence to proceed with a divorce as discreetly and quickly as possible.”
• The voice on the line was trying too hard to be professional and I gave him all the props for that but listening to this bullshit pissed me off. Discreetly and quickly as possible? Really? Married for over three fucking years and now he is less than three months away from his other wedding and he wasn’t this discreet and quick? No shit. I tried to send him requests for divorce after I saw his announcement that they were engaged, but I heard nothing from him. So that’s when my friends and I set up the bet of when he would end up calling.
• Finally, I couldn’t keep it in. I laughed. I laughed whole heartedly. I laughed for all the months I waited for his ass to call, to save me, to be with me. For him to tell me again that he didn’t abandon me and our son. For him to tell me he wanted to keep his promises to me. To apologize and to tell me I still held part of his soul like he held mine. Partway through I started to cry, laughing and crying because I had no other way of letting my pure anger and frustration out.
• “What took you people so damn long?”