I keep searching for the owner with no luck.
Bloody hell. I run down to the office. “Excuse me, there is a car blocking my car in and I can’t get out,” I splutter in a panic.
The bored attendant looks up form his gaming magazine. Man, this guy is such a dipshit.
“Hmm, go back into the hospital and have them page the number plates,” he replies flatly.
“What? I don’t have time for this. I have to be at the preschool to pick up my son in…” I glance at my watch. “Fifteen minutes.” Ah, shit.
“Sorry, sweetheart, there’s nothing I can do. We can call a tow truck, but they usually take over an hour to get here.”
“Fine,” I snap as I run back to my car. I hate this hellish car park. I’m going to have to ring Jenna to go get him. Bloody hell. I wanted to give her the afternoon off.
I’m not in the mood for this.
I take out my phone and dial Jenna’s number. My phone lights up and then goes dead.
My eyes widen in horror.
No.
Oh my God… oh my God. I begin to panic and I run to the cab bay, nearly hyperventilate. 4. 55pm. The preschool closes in five minutes and nobody will be there to pick him up.
I get a vision of his little face waiting for me and my eyes tear up. The cab line is ten people long. “Please, let me go first,” I beg. “I have to get my son from preschool before five and someone has blocked my car in. This… this is an emergency,” I stammer. “Please.”
“Of course.” The kind people all smile.
“Thank you so much,” I splutter as I take my place at the front of the line. “Please hurry. Please hurry,” I whisper again and again.
The cab doesn’t arrive until 5. 10 pm. “Where are all the cabs?” I panic, and the woman next to me rubs my arm sympathetically. “Have you rung them?” she asks.
“My phone is dead,” I whisper through my tears. Owen is there waiting and I can’t get to him. I feel sick knowing that he is the last little kid on his own waiting for me. How must he feel?
“Do you want to use mine?” she asks.
“Oh, please.” I take the phone from her and quickly Google the preschool’s number and dial them up. It rings and then I get a message.
Hello, you have reached
ABC Learning center.
We are currently closed right now.
Please call back during the operating hours o
f 8am to 5pm,
Monday to Friday.
My eyes widen in horror. “Oh my God, it’s the answering machine,”
I cry.
The lady in the line behind me speaks up. “Do you want me to ring my daughter to go and get him. Where is it?” she asks, concerned.
“This is a nightmare. They wouldn’t let her get him anyway.”
We wait and we wait, and I can’t even ring Jenna because I don’t know her number by heart. Why the hell didn’t I charge my phone properly?
A cab finally pulls into the parking lot and everyone sighs in relief. “Thank you so much for letting me go first,” I thank them as I climb in.
“ABC learning Centre… on… on Russel Street,” I stammer. “And please drive fast. I’m so late.”
The driver nods and pulls out into the traffic and I glance at my watch again. I’m now thirty-five minutes late.
I’m a terrible mother. How could I have let this happen?
After the longest ten minutes of my life, the cab pulls up at Owen’s kindergarten. “Wait here, please,” I tell the driver as run up the driveway just as the woman is locking the front door.
“Oh my… God,” I pant. “I’m so sorry. My car got blocked in and couldn’t get here.”
She looks at me, unimpressed. “He tried to call you but your phone was turned off. Owen’s father came and got him.”
My eyes widen in horror. “What?”
“We called his father and he came and got him. You know what time we close.” She looks at her watch. “Forty-five minutes ago.”
“Yes. I… I apologize about that…” I stammer. I turn and run back to the cab and shuffle through my purse to dig out Cameron’s address on a piece of paper. I hand it over. “Take me here, please.”
The car pulls up outside Cameron’s house and I gingerly climb out. “Just wait a moment, please. I need to see if he’s here,” I tell the driver.
I go over to the gates and push the doorbell. The security guard comes out. “Is Cameron home with Owen yet?” I ask.
“Yes, Ashley. He got home about half an hour ago.” He smiles.
“Thank you.” I smile awkwardly, then I turn and pay the cab driver, not hanging around to watch him as he drives off into the distance.
Cameron’s going to lose his shit, and I close my eyes because I know I deserve it.
I walk up the front steps and knock on the door. Owen bounces in to view through the glass. “Hi, Momma.” He waves.
I smile as relief fills me. He’s safe. Thank God, he’s safe.
Cameron opens the door and glares at me.
“Hello.” I smile as I bend and take Owen into my arms. “I’m so sorry. I got blocked in and I couldn’t get a cab.”
Cameron holds his arm out for me to come inside, and I walk in sheepishly.
“Momma, Dad picked me up and I made him a painting today.” He smiles happily as he leads me through to the kitchen and shows me his painting in its prime position on the fridge.
Cameron is in navy suit pants and a white shirt. His tie and suit jacket have been discarded, and my eyes fall to his biceps and shoulders that I can see through his shirt.
Why does he have to be so fucking gorgeous?
Owen is drinking hot chocolate and there’s cartoons on the television.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” I ask.
Cameron glances at Owen.
“Alone,” I add.
He points to the stairs. “Let’s go upstairs.”
I gulp. Shit. “Okay.” I turn to Owen. “I’m just going to talk to Daddy for a moment, darling. Watch your cartoons and then we will get going, okay?”
“Alright,” he calls, distracted by the television.
Cameron walks upstairs and I follow him like a naughty child.
Fuck’s sake.
He walks to his bedroom and I follow him in as he closes the door behind me.
“Cameron, it was a nightmare. I got blocked in by some inconsiderate asshole, and then my bloody phone was dead and I couldn’t get a cab. I didn’t know anyone’s number by heart.”
He glares at me. “Do you have any fucking idea how angry I am with you?”
“I know.” I shake my head. “I’m angry with myself.”
“He was there by himself. You should have seen his face. He was so worried.”
My face falls.
“Why was your phone dead?”
“Because I plugged it in and forgot to turn the power point on.”
“Because you haven’t slept,” he says, his tone eerily calm. “How the hell, do you expect to parent when you’re not sleeping?”
My eyes fill with tears. “It was just a mistake.”
“No, Ashley. It wasn’t a fucking mistake. It was a choice to go to the club last night and get naked for other men. It was a fucking choice to neglect Owen today.”
“This has nothing to do with last night.”
“It has everything to do with last night!” he yells, making me jump.
My eyes narrow as tears form-guilty tears.
He puts his hands on his hips and drops his head as he tries to calm himself down. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you.” He sneers. “But you better get your fucking act together real quick.”
He leaves the room in a rush and I stand still as the weight of his words swirl around me.
I hate that this happened. I hate that I let this happen.
I slowly walk downstairs and back out to the kitchen to see Cameron pick up Owen off the sofa and put him on his hip. “Come on, mate. I’m going to drive you both home. Mom’s not fit to drive tonight.”
My eyes close with regret because he’s right… I’m not.
Cameron
“What days do you go to preschool, Owie?” I ask as my eyes find his in the rear-view mirror. It’s Saturday morning and I have just picked him up for the day.
Ashley’s greeting was as icy as ever, but I don’t care. I’m off her. She fucking shits me. She can hate me all she wants.
“Tuesdays and Thursdays,” he replies as he looks out the window. “But I don’t really like it.”
“Why not?” I ask.
“Ryan is mean to me.”
I frown as I watch him. “What do you mean?”
He shrugs. “He takes my toys and won’t let me play chase.”
“Well, you just tell him you’re playing.”
“Yesterday he told me he was going to punch me in the dick.”
What the hell? “What?” I snap. “When did he say that?”
“Alison said I could play chase, and then he said if I did he was going to punch me.”
“And what did you do?”
He shrugs as he looks out the window. “I just went away.”
“What did Mom say?” I ask.
“She said…” He hesitates as he tries to remember. “She said to stay away from mean people.”
“Has he been doing this for long?” I ask.
He nods as he stares out the window.
“Owen, I want you to do something for me,” I say as my eyes flicker between him and the road.
“What?”
“Next time he says he’s going to hit you, I want you to do this.” I hold my hand up and then make a fist. “You do this with your hand and you tuck your thumb around the outside.”
He frowns.
“Can you do that for me? Show me how you do your hand?”
He makes a fist.
“Now, tuck your thumb around the front of your fist.”