Entry 6 – The Way We Used to Be

Dear Diary,

As I mentioned before, I knew what needed to be done so Trevor wouldn’t take Orla from me. Mama and Karly both thought it was a bad idea, but I wouldn’t budge.

It was hot in The Rattlesnake. The A/C was on full blast, but in the summer, there was only so much that could be done. Trevor’s shirt clung to him. He was looking forward to getting home and stripping it off, taking a nice cool shower, then vegging out in front of the tv. It was weird that Reggie had asked him to stay late right at the beginning of his shift. Trevor had only switched exclusively to afternoon shifts recently, and Reggie rarely asked him to stay late. When he did, it was much later in the evening, when it was apparent that it was going to be busy and they needed an extra hand. But it hadn’t even been busy – not exactly shocking for a Tuesday night.

Musta been something to do with a girl,Trevor guessed, feeling slightly envious.

London leaned casually against the wall, the bricks cool against her back. The throbbing baseline pulsed through her whole body. It had been a while since she had been out like this – not since Orla was born. London pulled nervously at the hem of the dress she’d borrowed from Karly. She felt a bit silly in it. She had intended to feel sexy, but she just felt pathetic, like everyone was staring at her stretchmarks and cellulite.

Trevor stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed her, and looked her up and down conspicuously.

“Holy shit.”

Oh yes, whatever London was feeling, the dress was definitely having its intended effect.

Trevor regained his composure and sauntered up to London.

“London, hey.” He inclined his chin slightly.

“Hey yourself, Trevor,” London smiled coquettishly.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, me? I just wanted,” London did a slow body roll, her hands traveling down her sides, “to dance.”

Trevor drank in her every move greedily, like someone had just handed him a tall glass of water after he’d been lost in the desert. Although to be honest, London would have considered herself a small glass of water. Like, a shot glass.

When London reached the hem of the dress, she gave it what she hoped was a discrete tug.

“What about you? Shouldn’t you be off work already? You said you were switching to afternoon shifts, so you would be able to care for our daughter full time.”

“Reggie asked me to stay late. Where is our daughter, by the way?”

“She’s sound asleep and safe at home with my mom. I didn’t leave until she’d got to bed. And I work so hard, aren’t I allowed a little,” London bit her lip slightly, “fun?”

“I’m just saying London, this is a strange way to try and prove that you want to keep your daughter.” Trevor was betrayed by the fact that he was staring at her mouth.

Was he always this easy?

“T-Trevor, I don’t want to fight,” London seemed to stutter. “To be honest,” London stepped closer to him, her breasts brushing against his arm and she reached up to whisper in his ear. “I was hoping to see you,” she purred.

Trevor cocked his head and grinned wolfishly. “Is that so?”

London swallowed and nodded.

“Well then, why don’t we get out of here and head back to my place?”

London smiled and looked up at Trevor through lowered lashes. “Now that sounds like fun.”

“Prick!” London slammed her palms against her steering wheel.

“Scumbag!” She slammed her steering wheel again.

“Arrogant bastard!” Out of habit, she was blaring the radio, drowning out her cursing, even though she was alone in the car.

This may be the craziest thing I’ve ever done – even crazier than giving up my chance to marry a prince, London thought to herself.

As she turned down off Speedway, she lowered the volume of her radio. With only one car between her and Trevor now, she wouldn’t be able to blame the noise on a group of marauding teenagers. Soon, the car between them left their convoy and she and Trevor were left alone to wind along the quiet backroads through Bedrock Strait. An occasional car slipped by, passing them with a whoosh, but most families were already snug in their homes for the night.

I wish I was snug at home with Mama and Orla.

Trevor’s muscle car slowed and the light of London’s high beams caught sight of a familiar green sign. With a sigh, London turned on her blinker and followed Trevor down Calle Vista. In a time span that seemed simultaneously dreadfully long and all too soon, their old Spanish Mission style home crept into view.

We were happy once – when we bought this house. Maybe we can be happy again.

Trevor actually opened her door for her and held out his hand.

“What’s this? You’re practically a whole new Trevor,” London teased as she slid out of her car.

“Yeah, I wasn’t joking before, I’ve changed – for you. I’m a whole new man, babe.” Trevor puffed out his chest proudly.

London cringed inwardly, trying to not let her façade slip.

Well, maybe not a whole new man. You’re still insisting on infantilizing me.

As they walked through the front door, London tried not to gasp. The house, which had once been meticulously decorated, was a now a bare-bones bachelor pad. London was furious to note the front room, which she had labors for hours to meld decorations with nods to both her Hispanic heritage and Trevor’s Irish roots, now stood empty – apart from an ugly bar. All that was in the living room was a huge flat screen tv hanging on the wall, a wore out pleather couch across from it. On the other side of the living room was a set of mismatched tables and chairs. The table was covered in piles of clutter and a couple stack of dishes next to the couch were tell-tale signs that since London was no longer there to insist Trevor eat at the table, he didn’t.

“Trevor, what happened to all the décor?”

“I got rid of it. You know all that frou-frou crap isn’t really my style Lon.” Trevor shrugged.

“You got rid of it,” London repeated incredulously. All that time and money down the drain. She had always imagine someday, when she could finally afford her own place, she would come back and reclaim her things.

“Well, I gave some of it to my mom. But she doesn’t have much time for that – uh, the Hispanic stuff.” Trevor cut himself off. London knew the rephrasing was because he was about to say something racist. She clenched her fists. He certainly wasn’t making this easy.

“You know, it doesn’t really fit in with her style, since she’s not Hispanic. She didn’t want to… be culturally appropriative,” Trevor finished lamely.

London pasted on a fake smile. “Of course.” She gestured toward the bar. “Hey Trevor, why don’t you show off those bar-tending skills and make us a couple drinks.”

I’m going to need it, she added silently.

“Sure thing, babe.” Trevor swaggered over to the bar, London following behind him. She took a seat as he began rummaging through the bottles.

“So, what’ll be, baby?”

“Um,” Just hand over the bottle of whiskey. “How about something… fun and flirty? You know, to put us in the mood.”

“What mood is that,” Trevor leered.

London just covered her face and giggled, trying to hide the fact that she’d just thrown up a little.

“I think I know just the thing,” Trevor said, grabbing a bottle of cherry liqueur. “It’s called Cupid’s Kiss.” As he mixed their drinks, he couldn’t help but show off, tossing bottles and launching cherries. Stuff that might have impressed London before she had Orla, but these days, she preferred skills like those that Allegro had.

“So, London, what does you boyfriend think about you being here?” Trevor had always had the uncanny ability to know what London was thinking – almost like he was reading her mind.

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore. We didn’t work out.” The words rushed out of her without thinking. It still hurt too much to think about Allegro.

“Aw, baby, I coulda told you that. Things never would have worked out with a… guy like him.” More thinly veiled racism. “You need a guy like me.”

“And what sort of guy is that.” London snapped, her emotions finally get the best of her.

Trevor studied her. The way he looked at her left her feeling raw. “The sort of guy who will fight for his family,” he said finally, handing London her drink.

London down half it in one gulp.

“Whoa, slow down there, Caliente.” Trevor topped off her drink. “We don’t want to wreck the party.” The drink’s aphrodisiacal properties must have taken told right away, because London didn’t feel sick at Trevor’s connotations. In fact, she felt downright giddy.

“Trevor, that’s why I texted Reggie tonight. Oops!” London sloppily clapped her hand over her mouth, but it was too late. Trevor raised an eyebrow at her.

“So you’re the girl who made me work late?”

“Yes. Don’t be mad. I needed to see you. I’ve been thinking about what you said… before.” London cringed, remembering Trevor’s very public impassioned speech, then threats. “I think maybe you’re right. Maybe we should get our a little family back together. Not just for Orla’s sake, but because… well, because I miss you.”

And in that moment, London wasn’t lying. As he stared at her, lust in his eyes, she remembered the way her heart had pounded in her chest the first time she walked into the lecture hall. The way he had teased her when she couldn’t get her eggs to form stiff peaks. And how their next tutoring session had ended with the sounds of their love making echoing off the lecture hall’s walls. London became flushed.

“Hmm, you think so, huh?” Trevor took her hand and lead her over to him, barely listening. He looked ready to devour her. London glanced down at his crotch. The Cupid’s Kiss seemed to be working on him, too. He slid his hand up her thigh.

“London, you seem to not be wearing any panties.” Another suggestion of Karly’s.

“How about we move this to the bedroom?”

“Now that definitely sounds like fun.”

At the foot of their old bed, Trevor wrapped his arms around London and finally kissed her. They fell into bed and it was like nothing had changed.

“So,” London lay with her head on Trevor’s chest and laced her fingers with his. “Do you think Orla and I can move back in? It’s only Karly needs to move in with my mom and there’s definitely not enough room for us all.”

“Nah, I don’t think so. In fact,” Trevor unwound his fingers and jumped out of the bed. “I’m gonna need you to put on your slutty dress and get your conniving ass out of her.”

“What?” London was unable to comprehend what he was saying.

“London, I know what you’re up to. Trying to seduce me to keep custody of Orla? Cute trick, but it’s not gonna work.”

London sat up, covering herself with the sheet. “Trevor, no.”

“Spare me London.” Trevor stalked out of the room.

London jumped out of bed, and hurried after him, pulling on her dress.

“Trevor, what the hell? I thought we had a real connection tonight.”

“The only connection we had tonight was me fitting my tab A into your slot B. So get your skanky ass out of my house, unless you never want to see your daughter again.”

At the mention of Orla, London’s blood began to boil.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? Our precious family back together?”

Trevor rolled his eyes. “You’re joking, right? Yeah, sure, once upon a time I wanted you back. But that was before you embarrassed me on national television. But you’ve been hoing it up with that foppish prince and that womanizing “artist”. You’re used goods, London.” He stared at her meaningfully. “Nobody would want you now. You’re unfit to be a mother.”

“How dare you speak to me in such a way! And when God only knows how many women you’ve slept with. Oh, and for you information, I never even slept with Stellan.”

“And the playboy?”

“That’s none of your business,” London blustered.

“Ugh, and you’ve probably picked up crabs or something from him. Now I’m going to have to be checked for crotch rot.”

“Why did you sleep with me then, anyway?”

“Cuz you were throwing yourself at me, and despite your disgusting stretchmarks, you’re still a pretty hot piece of ass.”

“Stretchmarks I got giving birth to our daughter!”

“I’ve known tons of girls who didn’t get stretchmarks because they took care of themselves and didn’t pig out cupcakes. How did you manage to pass the decorating class, by the way? Did you sleep with your teacher, too?”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response. And that’s not the reason some women don’t get stretchmarks.”

“Whatever, you keep telling yourself that, fatty.” Trevor walked out the front door.

“Don’t you run away from me, Trevor!”

Trevor laughed derisive. “I’m not running away from you, I’m trying to get your harpy ass out of my house! Skree!” He mimed claws with his fingers.

“Fuck you Trevor, I’m not a harpy. I just wanted the best for our daughter.”

“Right, which is why you nagged me constantly. ‘Oh Trevor, get another job so I can go to this birthing class.’ ‘Oh Trevor, get another job so I can have my pretty pretty princess dream wedding.’ ‘Oh Trevor, buy me this house so we can start our lives together in insurmountable debt.’ How convenient for you that the best for our daughter meant the best for you while I slaved away paying for celebrity endorsed classes and designer diaper bags.”

“I didn’t have any of those things! You slaved away so we could make ends meet while you worked your crappy job as a bartender.”

“Which I had to take after I got expelled from the academy for fraternizing with an underclassman!”

“SHUT UP,” someone down the street shouted through an open window.

“YOU SHUT UP,” Trevor shouted back.

“Trevor, I told you before, I didn’t know they were going to expel you.”

“Why did you think they wanted to know? So they could throw us a joint baby shower? God, London, you are so unbelievably dumb sometimes.”

“N-no, that wasn’t why.” In truth, London hadn’t even considered what would happen to Trevor before she cheerfully admitted to Dean Price that she and Trevor were a couple and they were expecting a baby together.

“Whatever London, I don’t give a fuck. We’re through and I’m going to get full custody of our daughter and you’ll never see her again. I’ll see you in court.”

“Your out of your God damn mind if you think I’m going to just lay down and -”

Trevor took a menacing step toward her. “London, leave. Now,” Trevor said in a low growl.

“Tell your bitch mother I want my stuff -” London started feebly, unable to know when to stop. Trevor grabbed her by the throat, cutting her off. His face was bright red.

“DON’T YOU EVER TALK ABOUT MY MOTHER THAT WAY, YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF TRASH!” Trevor hand clenched around her neck, crushing her windpipe. Flecks of spittle hit her in the face.

“THAT’S IT, I’M CALLING THE POLICE,” the voice down the street shouted again.

Trevor looked up, then sneered down at London again and threw her down the stairs. London caught herself before she fell, then fled.

When I got home, Mama was sitting in the living room waiting for me. She gasped when she saw my neck and insisted we call the police. I ran upstairs and locked myself in the bathroom. What could I tell the police? That I was trying to seduce my ex-husband in order to keep custody of our daughter? They’d be on his side. Mama pound on the door, until Orla started crying, the commotion disturbing her. Hearing her cry made me cry, too. How did this happen? I used to think I loved Trevor so much. Had he always been like that or had he changed? I would have never dreamed he would lay a hand on me before. And now? Will he hurt Orla, too? I have to protect my daughter. I will do anything.

Love, London

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Entry 3 – My Dad, His Husband, His Boyfriend, and Their Daughter

Dear Diary,

I gave what Karly said some serious thought. I know she hadn’t been serious when she suggested it, but I began to seriously think maybe I should move in with Dad, for Orla’s benefit. There simply wouldn’t be enough room for us all, there’s barely enough room for Mom, Orla, and me as it is. And I do understand that Karly can’t afford to live on her own. She really needs help looking after the twins, too, particularly at such a crucial time in her career. I know I definitely wouldn’t have been able to care for Orla and keep the Cupcake Cafe going without her and Mom’s support. And I love Dad, and living with Calvin and Antoine would give me a chance to get to know them better – Adalaide, too! (It feels so weird to say I have a baby sister at my age). Plus his home is on the opposite side of town – closer to Magnolia Promenade, which would shave time off my commute. So once I’d convinced myself that this was the best plan, I gave dad a call.

When London called her father, it hadn’t been particularly early in the morning. Of course, London hadn’t slept past 6 o’clock since Orla had been born. So London was a bit surprised when at 8 in the morning, her father answered the phone with a yawn.

“Hello,” he asked sleepily.

“Dad! Hi! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you! Errr, I thought you’d be up with Adalaide.”

“She’ll be up about now, actually.” London felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought of having a baby that slept in until 8 in the morning. “But the morning get up routine falls to Calvin while he’s getting ready for work.” Well, maybe that was the trade-off for having a baby that sleeps in. London couldn’t imagine getting a baby ready for daycare and herself ready for work, all while her husband and boyfriend slept in.

London’s father yawned again. “I’m sorry Lulu. I was up late with Antoine.”

“Oh!” London felt her face turn bright red. “I – uh…”

“No! No! Not like that!” London could hear her father sitting up and scrambling out of bed. Despite his reassurances, London heard muffled complaining in the background. This was not helping abate any of her concerns about moving in.

“I know, I’m sorry darling boy. Go back to sleep.” London heard a door close. She knew her father and his partners each had their own room, but apparently there had been a sleepover the night before. Oh boy.

“Dad, I can call back if this is a bad time.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m up now. Antoine had a project due today and he needed some advice for the creative aspect of his project. And since I’m the arty one in the family, that left it up to me.” Since coming out of the closet, London’s father had found modest success as a gay romance writer.

“So,” he continued. “What was so urgent that you need to call at… 8 in the morning?” London heard him move the phone away to check the time.

“I’m sorry Dad! Orla never sleeps this late and I just assumed you’d be up with Adalaide.”

“She’s still not sleeping through the night?”

London sighed, exasperated. It would never not be weird comparing parenting techniques for her baby sister and own daughter.

“She is, Dad. She just doesn’t need as much sleep as Adalaide.”

“It just doesn’t seem healthy is all I’m saying. We take Adalaide to a fantastic pediatrician – Dr. Crane? You’ve probably heard of her. She technically not taking on any new patients, but she is looking for a publisher for her book, so maybe if I had a word with my publisher, she might be able to sneak you in and figure out what’s wrong.”

London decided to ignore the faulty logic of an LGBT publishing group printing a pediatrics book.

“Dad, there’s nothing wrong with Orla.”

“Oh no, Lulu! I’m not implying anything’s wrong -”

London cut him off. “Orla is older than Adalaide, so she needs less sleep. So back to why I called you in the first place.” The very limited window in which London could get anything done before she had to be at the Cupcake Cafe was closing quickly and London didn’t want to waste another minute of it. “Can I come over? I need to talk to you.”

“What! Why? Are you up the duff again? Did that no-good prince do this to you?!” London’s father was still holding a grudge against Stellan for breaking his daughter’s heart.

“Dad, no. I’m not pregnant.” London’s voice wobbled slightly as she thought of the genetics composite that showed what her and Stellan’s children would have looked like. She took a deep breath before she continued. “Think about it, I’d be pretty far along at this point. And you’ve seen me, did I have a bump?”

“Well, no. I guess not.” Only slightly mollified, he pressed her. “But then what is it? Is something the matter?”

“Kind of. But it would be easier to talk to you in person. Can I swing by before work?”

“Well, sure Lulu.”

“Ok. Orla and I will see you in a little bit.”

 

“Hey Mama.” London found her mother on the front porch, sipping a Ridgeport.

“Good morning! Are my girls headed off for the day already?” Lyndsy looked at wrist and simultaneously realized she wasn’t wearing at watch and she had spilled some of her Ridgeport in her lap.

“Shit! I mean, shoot!” She frantically brushed the liquid off her pants.

“No, it’s not time to go yet.”

And hopefully by the time it is, you’ll have sobered up a little, London silently hoped. Mom doesn’t usually drink too much before work, I wonder what’s going on.

“I’m going to go talk to Dad and then swing back to get you,” she said out loud. “Unless you want to come with me?”

“No, London, I do not.”

London sighed and set Orla down, then sat down next to her mother.

“Mom, don’t you think it’s time you buried the hatchet?”

“I just don’t want to visit his little love nest, is that so much to ask?”

“I don’t understand how you can be angry at Dad, though. You really never realized he’s gay?”

“Twenty-five years, London. For twenty-five years, you father looked me straight in the eye and lied to me. Even though I was knocked up with your sister on our wedding day, I asked him ‘Are you sure you want to get married? I don’t really seem like your type.’ And he called me crazy for ever doubting him. And I guess in a way, I was crazy. Crazy for ever believing I was anything more than his beard.”

“You were more than that Mom. Dad loved you. Loves you still, even.”

“And I love him, too, London. Of course I do. But I am still bitter, still resentful. Do you know how silly I feel? And pathetic. I’m alone and he’s off building a new family. With two gorgeous partners, I might add. And I’m just another divorced 40 something who is going to die alone because she can’t get a date.”

“That’s not true Mom. You’ll always have me and Karly.”

London’s mother stared at her. “London, I get that you’re trying to comfort me, but that’s probably the last thing I want to hear right now. I want you and your sister to lead your own lives.”

“I’m sorry mom. But don’t give up on dating just yet. Look at me, I’m a divorcee, too, and I’ve dated two incredible guys.”

“London, I think the dating landscape at your age is a bit different than mine. Who wants some balding divorced guy with a paunch?”

“So date someone my age! You could be a cougar.”

“Aw, thanks London,” Lyndsy chuckled. “But I just don’t have the pert little ass for it, like you do.”

“Mom!”

“Hey, it’s true. These things matter.”

“I don’t know about that. But just don’t give up yet. And maybe work on forgiving Dad. It’s not just his fault, you know.”

Lyndsy shrugged as London knelt to pick up Orla. “I’ll see you later, London. Bye-bye Orla!”

As London helped Orla out of her car seat, she couldn’t help feeling self-conscious of the giant house sprawled out in front of her. As, she shut the door of the rattletrap she and her mother shared, the creak boomed through the neighborhood, signaling a warning to the residents of Skyward Palms that a Bedrock Straits girl was there and they best stay inside. London could have sworn she saw someone shut their drapes, though maybe she was just being paranoid.

Orla, too young to be embarrassed, gave a joyful whoop and toddled up the stairs.

“Papa! Papa,” she chanted, bouncing up and down trying to reach the doorbell. London lifted her up to reach it, its chime tolling somewhere deep within the house.

The wait for her father to answer the door felt like the longest of her life. And maybe it was, considering how large the house was. When one of the giant double doors finally opened, Orla launched herself at her grandpa.

 

“Papa! Papa!”

“Lala!” He covered with kisses and tickled her under chin. Orla squealed in delight.

Great, now she’s going to be all riled up, thought London. But before she could say anything, Orla pushed her grandpa’s hand away.

“No moar, Papa. Where Addie?”

Calvin grinned at her. Right from the start, Orla had loved babies, even though she was still pretty much one herself.

“Adalaide and Grandpa Calvin are in the kitchen. Why don’t you go see what they’re up to. Maybe Grandpa will give you a doughnut.”

Orla’s face lit up and she scooted off, a toddler on a mission.

“Grandpa! Grandpa,” Orla called. London laughed out loud; she knew if there was one thing the 30 something hated, it was being called Grandpa.

“All right Lulu, what is it you wanted to talk about?” London caught him glancing at her belly, doubly confirming that she was, in fact, not pregnant again.

“Where can we talk that’s private?”

“Well, we could go outside and sit in the courtyard.”

“Ok, but I think we’ll have to sit on the veranda. It’s already too hot out to sit in the sun.”

“Great, so it’s going to be one of those days,” muttered her father.

After they’d settled on the veranda, London couldn’t quite bring herself to ask her father what needed to be asked. London stared off into the distance. As a child, she had heard countless stories of the Lost Mine of Ortega in the Sierra Abuelo mountain range. She imagined running off and living in the mountains, eating cactus and bathing in rivers until she found the mine. Then she would move her whole family into a big house, not unlike the one her father lived in now, and would buy a herd of beautiful Andalusian horses and become a famous bareback rider. The dream had changed slightly, but London found herself again wishing she could find that mine and fix her life’s problems.

“Lulu, what’s going on?”

“Everything’s gone wrong Dad. I thought things were finally looking up, between meeting Allegro, and then you and I found that perfect place for me to relocate the bakery. Part of the deal was I can’t live there, because it’s not zoned for residency. But I can’t afford to rent the bakery and an apartment and buy a car, so I was going to move in with Mom. Except now Karly’s divorcing Ket and saying she’s moving in with Mom. And we can’t all six of us live in that tiny little townhouse. So Karly is saying since I lived with Mom after Trevor and I got a divorce, it’s her turn to live with her. But I don’t think that place is big enough for the four of them – it really isn’t even big enough for Mom, me, an’ Orla. And Mom won’t say who she wants to live with her, even though everybody knows I’m a better cook – even if I do have to come home late sometimes cuza the bakery. But Mom’s good with Orla and Orla loves her. Karly has no problem leaving the twins alone – did I tell you she yelled at me about it the other day? Anyway, I think if she’s ok leaving the twins home alone then she shouldn’t say she needs to move in with Mom. She could find a cheap place, one bedroom if she has to. But then if it’s cheap, it’s probably because it’s in a bad area, although I can hardly believe you could find a worse off area than where Mom lives now – don’t tell her I said that – And so obviously that makes me worried for the twins, they can’t be left alone in a place down the road from a meth house. So maybe Karly should move in with Mom, except now that leaves me with no where to go. So I was thinking…maybe you could talk to Antoine and Calvin, and with Antoine’s permission, maybe Orla and I can move in with you guys?”

The words tumbled out of London, completely scattered. When she finally looked at him, he was rubbing his nose, brow furrowed. She knew what was coming next.

“I could cook for you and help with Adalaide,” she added lamely.

“London, look. I love you and Orla more than I could ever possibly say. You know that. But I just don’t think that’s a good idea. The house isn’t mine and I don’t want to have to put Antoine in the position of having to be the bad guy. That wouldn’t be fair. And I know you still aren’t entirely comfortable with our arrangement.”

“No, Dad, I can…” London interrupted. Her father held up his hand for silence, then continued.

“I can understand that, it’s a big change for everyone, and not something everyone accepts. But I don’t want to feel like I have to hide who I love in my own home. And Adalaide is nearly a year now, so she’ll be moving into her own room, and there’s only one other little room and it wouldn’t be fair to cram you and Orla in it. Plus, Calvin has been talking about having another baby, with Antoine this time.”

“Already?”

“I know it seems soon, but the process of creating an egg out of Calvin’s DNA, then find a surrogate to carry it, and getting all of the legal stuff in order takes a while. But it just isn’t a good time for you to move in London.”

London blinked furiously as her eyes welled up and let out a shaky breath.

“Sure, ok!”

“London, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean -” As her father reached over to comfort her, London pushed his hand away.

“No, I get it Dad. Um, I have to go.” London jumped up from her chair. “I have a couple coming in for a cake tasting and I wouldn’t want them to have to deal with Karly and her current views on the institution of marriage.” She laughed at her own joke, but the words came out ragged.

On the drive back to her mom’s, London blared Orla’s Tots’ Tunes CD, so Orla wouldn’t hear her cursing the whole way. What was she going to do? Where would she live? Was it too soon to move in with Allegro? He didn’t live on his own anyway. How wrong would it be to pretend to get back with Trevor so she and Orla had somewhere to live? She was his daughter, too, after all.

As she pulled up to the curb next to the townhouse with a screech, Lyndsy was nowhere to be seen. However, there was a young woman in their front yard. She squinted at a piece of paper, then looked up at her mother’s home, seeming to compare addresses. London hopped out of the car.

“Can I help you?”

The young woman turned and a grin spread across her face. She was across the yard and through the gate in a couple of wide strides.

“Oh my gosh, are you London Caliente? From the Royal Bachelor?”

“Oh,” London chuckled. “ Yes, that’s me.” She scrubbed the tears from her eyes as the young woman reached her.

“You’ve been served.” She thrust a manila envelope at London.

“What? What is this,” London called after her, but she was already across the street and halfway down the block.

Confused, London tore open the envelope. Lyndsy finally emerged from the townhouse and started down the stairs.

“London, who was that? What did she want?”

London ignored her as she skimmed the letter. Suddenly, she tilted forward and came crashing to her knees.

“NOOOOOO!” London’s wail echoed through the neighborhood. At the sound of her mother’s scream, Orla began crying. Mrs. Parker, from the townhouse next to theirs looked out the window, concerned. Lyndsy sprinted over to her daughter.

“London! What’s wrong?!” London made no move to tell her, but simply sat hugging herself, as her body shuttered with each sob. Lyndsy crouched down and collected the sheaf of papers that lay scattered on the ground.

From the Law Office of Chase, Harper, and Weiss, read the letterhead.

Lyndsy felt her heart pounding in her chest. As she scanned the letter, the words jumped out at her.

“SUMMONS”

“FULL CUSTODY”

“TREVOR DAVENPORT”

“Shit,” muttered Lyndsy.

London leaned over and puked into the gutter.

 

I HATE HIM!

Love, London

Entry 2 – Hurricane Karly

Dear Diary,

I was so excited to look for a new place to rent for the Cupcake Cafe yesterday with Dad. The realtor had sent over a few potential listings and I immediately fell in love with one, even before we saw it. Dad tried to talk me out of even going to look at it; it’s a bit of commute. But I just had to see it. Maybe I should have listened to him, because when I saw it in person, I just had to to have. Of course, the other problem was this rental is not zoned to be lived in as well. No matter, I thought. Orla and I will just move back in with mom. I hated to move Orla back out of apartment in the current Cupcake Cafe so soon after moving in, but I hadn’t envisioned things taking off the way they did and needing to change locations so soon. But the new location was so perfect, I could just imagine the soft pastels, the rainbow curtains. So with a little bit of begging, I got dad to agree to co-sign with me for it. He’s always spoiled me – since I’m the baby I guess. So, I have a legally binding contract I can’t back out off and no where to live. So I have to move back in with mom, right? Seemed pretty cut and dry. But things kicked off when Karly came over this morning.

When Karly stormed into her mother’s townhouse, slamming the door behind her, her mother could practically see the thunder clouds swarming above her head.

“That’s IT! Ket and I are officially getting a divorce!”

Lyndsy calmly stirred her first mimosa of the day.

“What seems to be the problem this time, darling?” It was a common refrain Lyndsy and London had heard over the months since the fateful family visit during the Royal Bachelor and were more or less immune to Karly’s rantings at this point.

“Karly, where are the twins,” London trooped down the stairs with Orla in her arms. Karly huffed and rolled her eyes.

“I left them at the rental.”

“By themselves?”

“Yes London – by themselves.” Karly’s voice was drenched in malice, so London could tell she was spoiling for a fight. Unsurprising, considering her announcement. Still, London hated to argue with her sister and if there was one thing that made the Caliente sisters different from each other, it was their tempers.

“Karly, their my nieces, I’m just worried about them. I don’t think it’s safe.”

“It’s just while they finish breakfast! They’ll be getting on the bus any minute now. Besides, I had to leave them so we can open your bakery on time. Why did you stay at mom’s last night anyway?”

“Because Orla was sick and fell asleep early while dad and I were finishing up at the realtor’s office. I didn’t want to risk waking her and I couldn’t ask mom to take her while she was sick when she’s got work today, too.”

“Ooo, did you find a place?” Karly’s bad mood momentarily abated.

“I did! It’s the one that I wanted!” London’s stomach felt like it was full of butterflies just thinking about it.

“Show me,” Karly demanded.

London placed Orla in her high chair, then pulled out her phone, happy to oblige. Karly swiped through the listing pointedly. She pursed her lips and cocked her head, and as each minute passed, London could feel the tension mounting in the room again. Hurricane Karly was ready to blow again.

“So where are you going to live? Is there an apartment that’s not pictured,” she asked finally as she passed the phone back to London.

“Actually, it’s not zoned for residency.”

“So what, you’re going to rent an apartment, too,” Karly was shaking her head as said this, so London knew Karly knew what she was going to say next.

“No, I’m going to have to move back with mom…”

“Bull shit! That’s BULL SHIT,” Karly shrieked.

 

“Hey, language,” cautioned Lyndsy, gesturing to Orla. Orla screwed up her face pre-wail, so London swooped over to her daughter to comfort her.

“It’s ok, babycakes. Auntie’s just in a bad mood.”

“Cuza Unca Ket?”

London sighed. It couldn’t possibly be good for Orla to be exposed to so much drama in regards to her Aunt’s crumbling marriage that she knew that was what was making her Aunt angry.

“Yes. The big doo-doo head.” Karly blew a raspberry for good measure. Orla giggled and began blowing raspberries herself.

“Unca Doo-Doo Head! Unca Doo-Doo Head,” Orla chanted. London glared daggers at her sister.

“Babycakes, finish your applesauce. We need to hustle home so mommy and Auntie can open the bakery on time. It’s going to be a busy day today, we have lots of people coming to pick up their cupcakes for parties this weekend.”

“Huskle! Huskle,” Orla had punctuated the first “huskle” by slapping her hand in some spilled applesauce, but London grabbed her hand and wiped it clean before she could do it again. Orla whined and wrenched her hand from her mother’s.

“You’re going to be able to handle the cupcakes for the Parker baby shower and the Klein wedding this afternoon, right?”

“What? No! I have a meeting this afternoon! I told you this!” Since going back to work after the twins had been born, Karly had only been able to work part time at Desert Bloom Publishing Group. But a full time position was opening up since Mandy Conners had found herself pregnant and Karly was working overtime in the hope that she would be promoted. Of course, this meant she was neglecting her work at the bakery, at a time when London needed her most.

“Karly, no! You have to ask them to reschedule! We have to have these cupcakes ready for pick up this evening! Your promised you could do them!”

 

“What?! No way, you’re on drugs! There is no way I can ask them to reschedule a company wide meeting for my benefit!”

“Karly, the agreement was you could live in the apartment above the Cupcake Cafe in exchange for helping me in the bakery.”

“Yeah, and in case you forgot, I’m not living the apartment anymore. It was too cramped for the four of us, tempers were running high and I thought having more space would alleviate some of the stress on my marriage.”

“Has it?”

“Obviously not,” Karly replied snottily. “Which is why I’m moving in with mom. You’ve mooched off her long enough!”

“Karly, I can’t afford to rent an apartment on top of making the payments for the Cupcake Cafe’s new location! Plus, with the new location being in Magnolia Promenade, I’m going to have to get my own car, too!”

“About damn time,” Karly muttered. More loudly, she said, “Tough tuchus! Ket and I are getting a divorce and I can’t afford to continue paying for the rental on my own.”

London rolled her eyes. “Karly, how many times have you stomped in here, saying the exact same thing, only to text mom and me later saying you’ve decided to try and work things out.”

“Yeah, well I mean in this time. I’m done with his crap. So find a different place to move the bakery. Or! You could move in with dad.”

“You move in with dad,” shot back London. The girls loved their father dearly, and had known for a long time that he was gay – even before he had come out. They had even made peace with the fact that he was now in a polyamorous relationship. But what still made them slightly uncomfortable was Antoine, who was young enough to be their brother. A professional gamer and tech prodigy, the house in Skyward Palms he and his boyfriends lived in was technically his. This made the prospect of asking to move in with their father all the more uncomfortable.

“Girls! Enough! Please,” Lyndsy was sick of their bickering. Her girls were her world, but in all honesty, if she had things her way, neither of them would need to live with her. But a mother’s job was never done and unfortunately, both of her girls needed her now. They would have to come up with a plan. But not right now. Not in front of the baby.

“London, I’ll take Orla to daycare today.” There was a definite edge to Lyndsy’s voice.

“Oh, gosh! No, it’s ok mom, I’ll take her.” London suddenly came to her senses and scooped up her daughter. But Orla was still upset over the fighting and pushed away from London, reaching for Lyndsy instead.

“No, London. I’ll take her.”

London felt her heart breaking as she handed her daughter to her mother.

“Come on London, we’re late, thanks to your scene.” Karly was already half out the door as she called over her should to London.

“My what?! Excuse me, but -” London choked down her words as she saw her mother glaring at her. And she knew arguing with fruitless; once Karly was in a mood, she would never back down.

So on what should have be such a happy day for me, Karly managed to rain on my parade – yet again. It’s funny how no matter how old you get, sibling dynamics seem to never change. We are both grown women with children of our own, but if we disagree or something, suddenly it’s like we’re kids again, fighting over our Void Critter cards. I do love Karly, but I love Orla more. And I think maybe being around Karly and her bad temper wouldn’t be good for Orla. Maybe I should ask Dad (or rather, Antoine) about moving in? I guess it’s something to at least think about.

Love, London

First blog post

Hello! Welcome to my corner of the internet. I am MintyCupcake -perhaps you’ve heard of me before, seen me lurking on the Sims forum, or maybe you’ve stumbled here completely by accident. However you got here, I hope you pour yourself a cup of tea and stay a while.

This is the first time I have tried my hand at Simslit, but I have been telling stories from a very young age. I’ve begun pursuing writing seriously more recently.

If you have any comments or questions, feel free to pose them here or on the forums.