[prompt from http://daily-writing.blogspot.com/]
“Here comes the plane, coming in for a landing.”
I slowly moved the spoon closer to Sasha’s mouth, opening mine as she opened hers. She closed her mouth around the spoon and I slowly withdrew it, catching the excess sauce around her chin with the spoon.
The phone rang. “Mommy will be back in just a moment, Sweetheart.” I turned and took the few steps to the counter, picking up my cell. I didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”
“Jake? What number is this?”
He coughed on the other end. “The, uh, police department?”
I hand clutched the phone tighter, as if trying to break it. My free hand simply clenched itself around air. “What do you mean, the police department?” I said through my teeth.
“The guys and I were just having fun.” I heard the clanking of a gate in the background. “Apparently the guy was leaving the restaurant right as we drove off in his car. Officer Dickwad wouldn’t let me call until this morning. Anyway, can you come and get me?”
“What about dad?” I asked. There was a spot of heat on my forehead, the beginnings of a headache. I tried to massage the heat away before it changed to full-blown pain.
“He bailed me last time. Said he would let me rot before he did it again.”
I sighed. “Well, I can see why.” I looked at the clock and saw that I could drop Sasha off at daycare on the way. I would have to call them to tell them she was coming in, however. So much for my day off. “Okay, I’m on my way. But I swear, Jake, you’ve got to stop this!”
“I know, I know. Just please come. I think this guy is thinking about making me his bitch.”
“Language,” I said before I hung up. I turned around to find Sasha had grown impatient and was stuffing Spaghetti-O’s into her face. I reached for the towel.
“Oh Sweetie, what a mess.” I started to wipe the red sauce on her face. Her yellow shirt, however, was done for. “Looks like Uncle Jake got himself into trouble again.”