Page 94 of Recipe for Rivals
“Unlike Chewbacca, who I had to bury in the grass!”
What? When did he do that? “Where?”
“Not telling,” he said, still glaring at his sister.
Oh, good grief. Emotions were high, it was past bedtime, and Alice would never go to sleep with a broken monkey. “Come on, both of you. Shoes on. We’re going out.”
“Where?” Ben asked.
“The monkey hospital. But not until you both apologize.”
I was pretty sure I’d intrigued them, because while I went searching for the phone I’d flung on my run to the room, I heard them mutter half-hearted apologies to each other. Carter had tried to call six times since our conversation had been interrupted, but my first call was to Gigi.
“Hey, sugar,” she said when she answered.
“We’re having a sibling war over here and Ben cut Peaches’ arms off. Any chance you have some pink thread? And a needle? I left my sewing kit in New York.”
“Of course. Come on over. I might not have pink, but I know I have white.”
“Great. That works too. We’ll see you in a minute.”
We hung up, and I dialed Carter to update him. He must’ve been out of his mind after hearing his daughter scream like that.
It rang once before a woman answered. “Hello?”
I looked down at my phone, but it was still Carter’s face. Putting the phone back to my ear, I heard her speak again. “Hello?”
Okay. So this was really happening. “Is Carter there?” I asked.
“He’s busy right now.”
Silence. Why had she answered his phone if he couldn’t come to it? This had to be his new girlfriend, and it suddenly felt ridiculous that I didn’t have my sewing kit, but she could pull it from the closet right now if she wanted to hem a pair of pants.
“Do you need something?” she asked. Her voice was higher than mine, silkier too.
“I just needed to talk to Carter. I’ll call back another time.”
“I can take a message,” she said.
So could his voicemail. It was an icky situation, and I didn’t like how it felt to have my conversation hijacked like this, then made to feel like I was the weird one for not telling her why I wanted to talk to her boyfriend. We sharedchildren, for heaven’s sake. It didn’t take rocket science to figure out that I probably wanted to discuss them, and not with a stranger.
“Mom, can we go?” Alice asked tearfully behind me.
“Yeah, babe. Just a sec.” I cleared my throat to speak into the phone again. “If you’ll have Car?—”
“Was that Alice?” the woman asked.
“Okay, who is this?” I asked, my patiencegone.If she knew my child’s name, I could learn hers.
“Kristen,” she said, and if I wasn’t mistaken, she sounded a little hurt.
“What are you do—hello?” Carter said into the phone. “Nova? What happened?”
“Peaches’ arms are broken. I need to run so I have time to sew them back on so Alice can sleep. Just wanted to let you know why it sounded like our child was dying. She’s fine. Or she will be.”
“Okay.” He sounded slightly mystified.
“Bye, Carter.” I didn’t wait for him to say anything more. I was shaking, overwhelmed, itchy, and in need of a good, long scream into a pillow. I turned my phone to Do Not Disturb mode, slid it in my pocket, and went in search of my shoes. And maybe some Benadryl anti-itch cream.