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“Chloe?” Maren asked. She hadn’t even realized she was talking to my wife.
“Hi, dad.” My daughter, Haven poked her head around a heap of pumpkins and waved.
Her hair matched the pumpkins. She looked just like her mom, freckles and all. But like an ordinary teen in ordinary clothes, shorts too short and an oversized sweatshirt. She held up a bag explaining to Maren she’d be in costume later.
“Oh, what as?” Maren asked her.
“A dark fairy,” Haven answered, hauling out the black fabric to show her.
Chloe dressed like the biker bitch she’d always been with too tight denim, black boots, and fake titties you could sit your beer on. They practically popped out of a low-cut Guns and Roses t-shirt. Her ginger hair was pulled back in a tight French braid, and she had on every ring she owned. A Marlboro Light hung from her lips. I couldn’t tell if she was already in costume or not. Most of the bikers would end up coming as bikers after all.
Chloe barked at me, “I’m dropping off Haven early to set up the carnival. She drove me here. You need to take her driving before she leaves. If you’re going to stick around for any time, this time.”
“No one told me,” I complained, focusing on one of her grievances at a time.
“All the kids her age are helping.” Chloe sucked on her cigarette like a joint.
“I messaged you, dad,” Haven butted in.
“You said you were coming but not early,” I challenged.
“No. I told you I wanted to come early because I’m leaving soon,” Haven argued with me.
I scrolled my phone. “You did not.”
“On Insta.”
Fuck. I was only on Instagram to spy on her. I didn’t check my messages.
“It’s okay, honey. Your dad ain’t been around enough to know it’s that time. Haven’s off to that prep school come January,” her mom said, putting me down as usual. “She’s going to stay with my mom first. Don’t you remember? She’s leaving next month.”
Maren continued unloading pumpkins into the wheelbarrow as our family drama played out.
Chloe went on, “I hope you got my text, Levi. You’ve got the girls this afternoon. I’ll be back to drop them off. I have my own plans tonight.”
“You won’t be at the carnival with them?” Ivy and Angel weren’t mine, but at six and eight they didn’t know any better. “You’ll be back before eight? Can’t Haven watch them?”
“You got plans? Well, I do too. It’s high time you watch the kids one evening.”
“You know I can’t do that while I’m working.”
“Haven wants to enjoy the part of this party that she can, while she can. She’ll watch the girls afterwards. Don’t worry, you won’t miss a thing. Just drive them home, will ya?”
I scrolled through my phone while she talked. “You didn’t let me know.”
Chloe kicked the ground. “You didn’t let me know you’ve been shacked up with some other woman. We’ve not seen you in weeks.”
Not wanting to hear this, Haven stomped off.
Automatically, I looked to Maren to gauge her reaction.
Chloe caught on. “This her? You her?” Chloe’s voice came in short bursts. She cracked her knuckles.
“Hi, I’m Maren,” she tried, offering her hand.
Chloe stared at her hand in disgust before knocking her lights out.
Fucking hell. I should’ve known with her hair back and rings, she was fixing to fight.
Maren bounced back, fought back and the dust rose around them. It was a real slugfest. Maren kneed Chloe’s crotch, turned her and had her in a stranglehold. Chloe elbowed Maren to escape and grabbed her by the hair, trying to sling her to the ground.
I stepped into the middle of their brawl to break them apart and got scratched up. Holding them apart didn’t stop them. They both hit me, trying to get to the other. Chloe landed another punch in Maren’s face. Maren grabbed her braid. Neither one of them would give up. Bending down, I snatched Maren by her jeans and flipped her over my shoulder and backed away from Chloe.
Holding out my hand, I threatened my wife, “Come over here, and I’ll drop kick you.”
“I can fight my own battles,” Maren hollered while she beat on my back.
Chloe wiped her bloody nose. “You afraid I’ll hurt your new whore?”
“Maren’s not a whore,” I said.
“Well, that’s just peachy. Don’t you know he’s already got an Ol’ Lady, bitch.”
“Chloe, I don’t love you anymore. You know that.”
“Forget watching the girls. They’re not coming. Keep your whore. You won’t see the girls ever again.”
“Don’t punish the girls over this.”
Chloe flipped me off as she walked away.
I sat Maren down on the tailgate of the truck and tried to look at her swollen eye.
“Don’t,” she said, her voice hoarse.
Easing up my touch, I tried to be gentler as I examined it. “I think you need some ice.” She had a black eye, alright.
“Don’t,” she went on, pushing my hand away from her face entirely. “I don’t need you to protect me. I can take care of myself.”
“It was a useless battle. I don’t want Chloe. There’s no need to fight that bitch.”
“I’ve been fighting my whole life and don’t need a man to protect me.”
“That’s what you’re mad about? With everything going on, you choose that.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
I caressed her face even though she didn’t want me to. “Make me understand.”
Maren shoved me off, hopped down and walked off. The look on her face, she might as well have flipped me off too.
To hell with this, I stomped off too, back to the house for a fucking nap.
Halloween was proving to be a bitch. It only got worse when the family friendly part of the carnival began. I’d just woken from a nap and the fair seemed to have sprung up around me like magic. There was an orange and black striped big top right in the middle of the clearing. It was flanked by a Ferris Wheel and a haunted funhouse that sat way farther away on purpose, a straw bale labyrinth in front of it. Games dotted the perimeter. I smelled a petting zoo before a screech from the sound system about knocked me over. They were setting up for Beau Strick to sing in the tent. I recognized the voice of Dimple, our Elvis impersonator biker doing a mic check.
“Ah, one. Ah, two...”
The grounds were packed with members and their Ol’ Ladies and kids, but also strangers who came for the festivities. Not just our normal clientele either. They’d brought their families. We were all to be on our best behavior for this shit. None of the adults were in costume yet. Only the kids.
Finally finding Maren working a face painting booth, I tried to talk to her.
“How you holding up?”
“I’m right as rain,” she said, but instantly added, “It’d be nice if you had volunteered to do something.” She painted a crude unicorn on a tiny girl’s cheek. I noticed she’d covered up her black eye with makeup, but you could still see it. “We needed help setting up.”
“You never asked me to. You ran off.”
“If you want to help, meet me in fifteen minutes. I’m just filling in for Paisley who’s late. She’s the face painter this afternoon and our palm reader later. I really hope she doesn’t flake out. I’ll find something for you to do.”
Maren shooed me away. I walked off aimlessly looking for a brother or two, but everyone seemed to be working.
Then of all people, fucking Fireball walked right on by me. Shit. The Asphalt God who got away from me. I couldn’t have been the only one to see him. His face tattoo was a dead giveaway.
