Live to Tell (Live to Tell #1)(18)

As for their youngest child… Sadie did see the child psychiatrist, Dr. Rogel, once. Lauren can’t tell whether it helped or not. For the first half hour, Sadie spoke to the doctor alone, behind closed doors.

“But you said I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers,” she protested when the doctor summoned her in.

“It’s okay. I’m right here. And Dr. Rogel’s not a stranger. I know him.”

“But I don’t.”

“You can talk to him. That’s why we’re here.”

Miraculously, once she got over her shyness, Sadie actually did open up to Dr. Rogel. She talked a lot about Fred, her missing toy rabbit.

When Dr. Rogel met with Lauren after the session, he asked if Fred was real. Apparently, he thought Fred might be some kind of psychological metaphor for Nick.

When he found out Fred was real and had, indeed, gone missing, Dr. Rogel nodded knowingly.

“It’s very common for children of divorce to become excessively attached to, and even hypervigilant about, their belongings.”

Lauren was so stuck on the phrase “children of divorce” that she didn’t think to ask any follow-up questions.

Children of divorce.

It’s surreal, even now, to hear Lucy, Ryan, and Sadie described that way.

Children of divorce? Her kids? How did this happen?

She should probably schedule a return visit to Dr. Rogel for Sadie before school starts. Maybe for all three of them. It’s expensive, and insurance doesn’t cover it, but Nick told her to do whatever she thought was necessary.

Dr. Rogel did mention that he’d be going on vacation in August. But maybe he’s back by now—or hasn’t left yet. And he said another doctor would be covering his patients in his absence.

I’ll call and make an appointment for Sadie, Lauren decides. She needs it.

Hell, maybe I need a shrink, too.

“So…how’s your father?” she asks Lucy, reaching for an avocado that’s been ripening on the windowsill.

“Good. He said there’s no cell service out at the house he’s renting, so he can only call us when he’s in the town.”

“I thought he’s been texting you.”

“He did, a few times—he must have been in town.”

“Mmm hmm.”

Lucy looks hard at her. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t you believe that?”

“Believe what? I didn’t even say anything.”

“You said ‘mmm hmm,’ like you think Daddy made it up about the cell service and not being able to get in touch with us more.”

“I don’t think that, sweetie.”

Okay, that’s a lie. And judging by the flash of misgiving in Lucy’s eyes, maybe she doesn’t believe Nick, either.

“What else did Daddy have to say?”

“Well, I told him we got our fall schedules for school in the mail yesterday.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Lauren has been meaning to take a look at them, but they seem to have gotten lost in the household shuffle.

“When I told Daddy I have Mr. Trompin for HR, he said—”

“Wait, what’s HR?”

“Homeroom.”

“Oh. Right.” Lauren wonders why that would be relevant to Nick, but doesn’t necessarily want to admit she doesn’t know. She must have missed something.

Why does she keep missing things? She needs to do a better job of staying on top of the mail, and the kids—

“Daddy said to tell Mr. Trompin he says hi and that he misses playing basketball with him.”

Oh—that explains it. Mr. Trompin is obviously one of the guys Nick used to shoot hoops with over at the park on Sunday mornings.

“Oh, and Daddy’s coming home tomorrow,” Lucy adds.

Lauren looks up. “What time?”

“He didn’t say. It doesn’t matter; we’re not seeing him until the next day. He’s picking us up for brunch.”

Sunday. Clearly, he’s going to miss half of his officially scheduled weekend visitation with the kids. Not that anyone other than Lauren seems to mind.

Well, she doesn’t mind, exactly. Now that Lucy and Ryan are home from camp, breathing a little life back into the house, she’s hardly anxious to spend an entire weekend alone here. Still…

You’d think Nick would want to rush back from the beach to be with them, after so much time apart. You’d think, too, that he’d at least check with Lauren to make sure he’s not screwing up her Saturday plans.

He would be if she had any.

Does he assume that she doesn’t?

Lauren thrusts the knife’s blade into the avocado.

Maybe she should actually make some plans, just to prove a point.

When Nick resurfaces, he’s going to get an earful from her—or maybe from her attorney. Yes, let no-nonsense Emerson Snyder—who’d come highly recommended by Trilby, who used him for her own divorce—straighten out Nick.

After all, you don’t just ignore court orders—and that’s what the custody agreement is…isn’t it?

Oh geez, who knows?

Lauren wishes she hadn’t been too distracted by her wounded heart to pay more attention to the legal arrangements. Maybe she’d have a leg to stand on now had she pressed Nick to stick to the visitation schedule from the beginning. But no, she’d gone along with his lackadaisical approach, happy to spare the kids that whole back-and-forth routine—and, all right, happy to have them all to herself.