Fen’s forest. Wow. It sounded like bad aftershave.
Or a picture-perfect life that didn’t involve me.
“It won’t work,” Safia snapped. “You can’t be a full-time parent, hold down your ridiculous job, and have a life of your own. It’s not fair.”
“I know. That’s why I’m saying you could have Charlie for the holidays—when he starts school, I mean. And he can go to nursery while I work.”
“You want to put him in full-time nursery care?”
“Part-time.”
“What about your mortgage? And your student loans? And everything else you’d have to pay on a part-time salary?”
“I’ll manage. I got this far.”
“Only because you took a mortgage holiday and a partial sabbatical from your job.”
“No, because I know how to count my own money. I’m not a fucking child.”
Safia didn’t flinch. She sat and ladled me a bowl of the casserole she’d dished out for lunch. She pushed it across the table, but I ignored it, appetite MIA since our tense conversation had escalated into a full-blown Stone family drama.
Paddy had taken all the kids to feed the goats, Charlie safely tied to his back so he wouldn’t trip on the uneven muddy ground that was a world away from the concrete and pollution he was used to.
“Look,” Safia tried again, softer this time, without the edge that wound me the fuck up. “I just don’t think it’s sustainable for you to work yourself into the ground thirty-nine weeks of the year, then dump him up here for the rest of it—”
“Dump?”
“Bad word choice. That’s not what I mean.”
“What do you mean, then?”
“I mean if that’s how things go, all you get from raising Charlie is the hard stuff. The school runs, the bills, the horrible bedtimes when the little bastards won’t sleep and you have to go to work in the morning. You’re gifting the magical moments to me and it’s not fair, Rama, to either of you, but most of all you.”
“I’d be fine, Saf. Honest.”
“I don’t want you to be fine. I want you to be happy.”
I snorted, scrubbing a hand down my face. “You think I’m not happy?”
“I think you’re a mess.”
“Nice.”
“Deny it then. Let’s keep fighting instead of enjoying the fact that you’re up here with us for the first time in a fucking eternity.”
“Has it been that long?”
“Of course it has. You never left the city after Charlie was born. You didn’t trust Damon not to drop him in the bath.”
She wasn’t even joking. I’d been in Charlie’s life from the moment Damon and Leanne had brought him home from the hospital, because the sad reality was he’d needed me to be. And then just when I’d thought Damon was going to turn it around, he’d died.
I hadn’t come up for air since. Safia’s kitchen felt almost as surreal as Fen’s had, and my hands shook around the nuclear mug of coffee she’d presented me with a while ago. It was still warm, but I was scared to drink it. “I spoke to Elaine yesterday.”
“The social worker?”
I nodded. “She thinks custody is a foregone conclusion. I was the only one pushing for Leanne to be in Charlie’s life. The team supporting us thought she’d have done a bunk months ago.”
“She might come back,” Safia said darkly. “When she needs cash and wants the benefit payments.”