Living with Pops & Daddy

Chapter Five

Tanya

I take the kids out of school early, telling a little white lie that they have a dental appointment. Levi and Leo are sitting in the backseat with faces as miserable as a wet weekend until I pull into the McDonald’s drive-thru. Then I hear them celebrating gleefully. I order the kids some food and then park in the lot behind the restaurant. As the kids munch on their chicken nuggets, I whip out my phone and send texts to both Dave and Pops, telling them what happened, and that I’m taking the kids home. They reply within seconds to tell me they are leaving work early, and not to throw away the note. It’s evidence. And if things escalate, we ought to show it to the cops.

“How come you’re not eating anything, Mom?” Levi asks.

I plaster a smile on my face as I turn to face my kids. “Because I had an office picnic with your dad,” I tell them.

My anxiety churns my stomach, making me regret the sandwich I ate for lunch. I couldn’t stop thinking about the note and what it meant. Does someone know about our arrangement, or are they referring to Little Tech? Sin breeds sin. For all I know, they could mean Dave’s upbringing, and how Roger has fucked his way through half the town, and the sex fetish simulator could just be the icing on the cake. The only outsiders who knew about our arrangement are Rosa and Ashley, and they both traded secrets of their own. Beth would never tell a soul, and I can trust my mom and aunt to keep things shtum. Maybe it was one of Pop’s scorned conquests. The note might not even be aimed at me. I go through every tiny detail until my head throbs with pressure and I can’t stand it anymore.

“Have you guys finished back there?” I ask the kids, keen to get a move on.

The sound of rustling cardboard fills the car as the kids pass their empty food packages to me. I get out of the car and shove it all into the trashcan at the edge of the parking lot, then I take the kids back home. Roger’s pickup truck is parked on his drive. Rex is bounding up at the back gate as the kids rush out of the car, and Dave is home. He must have called an uber or asked Pops to pick him up. Either way, they both look pissed as they greet us outside.

“Where is it? Let me see it,” Pops demands, curling his fingers as a gesture for me to hand it over.

Dave leans in to read it and his worried expression morphs into a livid scowl. “Come on, let’s go inside,” Dave says.

“Can one of you help me with the groceries?” I ask.

Pops nods and then fetches the bags from the trunk. Dave guides me inside and I take the listings from my purse to give to him. Pops dumps the bags on the table and begins putting things away. I watch as Dave flicks through the stack of papers and notice his expression soften.

“I like this one, it looks amazing,” he mentions, showing Pops the six-bedroom new build that has a pool, and a garage big enough to keep a dozen cars.

It caught my eye when the realtor suggested it to me, but I wanted to see what Dave and Pops thought of it first.

Pops leans closer to read the description, then he lets out a low whistle. “Nice price, too. How much did you say you made from your software?”

Dave rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, Pop, we can afford it.”

Pops throws me a deadpan look. “Would you look at him . . . not even breaking a sweat over four million dollars. Who are you, and what have you done with my son?” he jokes dryly.