Chapter 13
“Enough!”
The last thing Joanne wanted to deal with today was explaining the birds and the bees to her brother’s children. Her immediate plans were to drop them off at school, return to her apartment for a quick shower and change of clothes, then meet Edie for lunch. She’d deal with her clients in the afternoon, though she’d most likely have to reschedule everyone, since she had a sneaky feeling she’d be spending a good amount of time babysitting for the foreseeable future. At least, until Shelly returned from the hospital. How long did it take to have a baby nowadays, anyway?
* * * *
Joanne counted it a minor miracle when she managed to get Ava and Mikey into her car without much more of a hassle. There was the obligatory tussle for the front seat, which Joanne settled by tossing her briefcase on the passenger seat before either child could get inside the car. “Now you both have to sit in the back,” she told them. But if she thought that would settle things, she was wrong. For the short, ten-minute drive, they bickered and fought, Ava slapping Mikey’s hand away whenever he reached across the seat to poke at her, Mikey howling with indignation each time she managed to strike him. By the time Joanne pulled to a stop in front of their elementary school, she was ready for a stiff drink or a glass of wine, and it wasn’t even ten in the morning yet.
And Michael actually wants more kids? What is he, crazy?she thought, slamming the car door shut on the noise and allowing herself a peaceful moment before she had to release the monsters inside. Long ago she had engaged the child safety locks on her car, so that the backs doors could only be opened from the outside. Now she stood by the door behind the driver’s seat, hand on the handle, watching the two kids arguing through the window. Watching, and waiting.
And waiting.
And waiting.
After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably no longer than a full minute and a half, if that, Mikey noticed Joanne outside the car and stopped in mid-sentence to point past Ava. His sister slapped down his finger but turned to look at her aunt, too. When she saw Joanne, she jiggled the door handle. Through the closed window, Joanne heard her holler, “Let us out!”
Joanne called back, “You know the rule. Not until you two behave.”
“We arebehaving,” Ava muttered.
Joanne smirked. “Really? This is your best behavior? Because when your father asks me how you were this morning and I tell him—”
“Sorry.”
The apology came from both of them at once, and she knew it was insincere, but Joanne didn’t have all day to hang around outside the school waiting for something better. In fact, chances were someone in the principal’s office was already writing down her license plate number, one hand on the phone in case they had to call the cops. No, better drop these two off and get on about her day. She had a lunch date to look forward to, and that was more than she’d had in a long time.
With a jerk of her hand, she opened the door and the kids spilled out in a jumble of arms and legs. They jostled each other aside, and one of them elbowed her in the stomach, before they found their footing and raced across the schoolyard for the building’s entrance. “Be careful!” she yelled after them, though she didn’t know if they heard her or, if they had, what good it’d do. Moments ago they hadn’t wanted to come to school, and now they couldn’t seem to get inside the building fast enough.
Go figure.
Locking the car, she trailed after the children so she could check them in at the front desk. She’d been by the school earlier in the month with Michael, who added her as an authorized contact so she could pick the kids up when Shelly was in the hospital. We never needed to bother with all this when I was little,she thought, following Ava and Mikey into the building. The kids had been stopped by a hall monitor, who was waiting for Joanne to catch up. Together they were escorted to the front office, where hopefully it wouldn’t take long to explain their tardiness, then she could get on with the rest of her day.
* * * *
The first thing Joanne did when she got back to her apartment was gather all Miranda’s mail into a plastic grocery bag and set it outside the door. Then she texted Miranda—ur mails outside come get it.Hopefully Miranda would be busy at work and unable to swing by until well after Joanne was gone. No one would bother with the bag—it looked like trash set outside, waiting to be taken to the dumpster, nothing more, and there was nothing important in the mail, anyway. Joanne knew; she’d already gone through the letters, and she stuck the daily junk addressed to Occupantin among Miranda’s bills out of spite.