I went upstairs, opened my drawer, and took out the credit card. The black one. The one Daniel kept “for emergencies.”
Well, this qualified as an emergency.
An emergency involving my dignity.
I texted him:
“Brian called. Very convenient, this ‘urgent project’ of yours.”
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Me: “No need to answer. The kids and I went out. Also because of an ‘emergency.’”
“Mom, are you crying?” Owen asked from the back seat.
“No, honey. I’m CALCULATING. Do you know how long it has been since I bought clothes for myself? THREE YEARS. Do you know how much money I saved being ‘responsible’? A LOT.”
First stop: the toy store.
“Pick whatever you want,” I said, arms crossed.
“Anything?” Lily whispered, almost afraid to trust it.
“Anything.”
