I fed Marcus, gave him a bath, and hustled him into bed.
I also made a mental note to buy him some new pajamas this week. What the hell is up with these little pink squiggly things? What are those even supposed to BE?
I was worn out. It had been a seriously long day already. But I went over to Laurel's, anyway. I made it over there about 11:00.
I felt really bad when I saw her. I mean, really bad.
She was trying to get her kitchen cleaned up. She was worn out and in shock and trying to scrub up all that sticky black mess from the smoke.
She didn't say one word of complaint.
But that didn't fool me. I could tell how upset she was.
I helped her finish scrubbing the cabinets. That black smutty residue from the smoke was a bitch to get off!
Then we stretched out on the couch together to rest. A tight squeeze for the two of us, but always nice.
I kept thinking about what it would be like if Laurel was my wife instead of Isabel. What I wouldn't give to be able to take care of Laurel AND my children the way I want to! I'm sick of always shortchanging someone as I shuffle them around.
But I can't get a divorce. I can't! I know that Isabel would fight me for the kids just to spite me. Judges are always inclined to give full custody to the mother. I would probably end up seeing the kids only every other weekend and two weeks in the summer. Maybe every other Christmas if I got lucky.
I can't leave them on their own with Isabel for all that time.
I can't ignore Laurel when she needs me. Hell, I can't ignore her when I need her, either! And this is all unfair to her, too.
I just hope I was able to give her a little relief tonight.
