But I managed it.

Lynette was beside herself with glee, informing me (repeatedly) she told me so as to the fact I was so a Ten Point Five.

“You might even be an Eleven!” she’d shrieked.

I couldn’t say I believed her (definitely not about the Eleven part). But that didn’t mean Mitch tearing my cocoon wide open and helping me fly didn’t mean I wasn’t (mostly) convinced I was at least a firm Eight.

But it wasn’t Lynette who convinced me of that, it was Mitch.

She was planning a trip out to meet Mitch, Billy and Billie in August and her parents were considering coming with her. I hadn’t seen her in three years, since her last trip out, and I hadn’t seen her folks in thirteen.

I couldn’t wait.

* * * * *

Third Bill was broke, incarcerated and had obviously played his trump card first. He was awaiting trial, a public defender preparing his defense, something Mitch told me would not go well. Firstly because he was guilty, secondly because he already had two strikes and thirdly because he was stupidly refusing to plea bargain.

I never heard from him, the kids never heard from him but I had visited him once and only once and I did this with Mitch standing at my back (Mitch’s decree) so this visit didn’t go well. Still, it probably wouldn’t have gone well even if Mitch wasn’t there.

It lasted long enough for me to pick up my phone, Bill to pick up his phone while his angry eyes stayed glued through the glass to Mitch then they dropped to me, he said in his phone, “Fuck you, Mara. Fuck you.” Then he hung up the phone, got up and walked to the guard.

I walked out trembling and trying not to cry while Mitch held me close with an arm around my shoulders. When I got out, I was trembling and trying not to shout when it hit me I was looking after his kids, kids I intended to raise until they were old enough to build their own lives; my apartment had been ransacked because of him; he’d set Mom and Aunt Lulamae on me and he had absolutely nothing to be pissed about but I had a lot to be pissed about.

I shared all I was pissed about with Mitch in his SUV. I did this in detail and at length and I included family history that went way, way back, something I never shared with anyone but I was on a roll. I only stopped when we got to his apartment, he handed me a glass of wine, kissed me hard to shut me up, lifted his head and I focused on him (finally) to see his eyes were dancing.

Then he muttered, “Gotta go to Bray and Brent’s to get the kids. You gonna tear my place apart in the two minutes it’ll take me to do that or are you gonna light a f**kin’ candle, take a sip of wine and get your shit together?”

I glared at him.

Then I mumbled, “Door number two.”

“Right,” he mumbled back, kissed me again, this time not hard but a lot longer. Then he went to go get the kids.

In the two minutes he was away, I did what I promised him I would do but I also took that time to freak out that during my rant I’d shared family history with Mitch. Ugly, revealing family history and he might take that two minutes to realize I was a Two Point Five.

He didn’t. He came back with Billie over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold, squealing; Billy following, grinning up at them and Mitch declaring he was going to teach Billy how to man a grill.

Then he’d made hamburgers while Billie and I sorted the fixin’s. Billie and I fried French fries and made salad (well, I did, she watched, sitting on the counter and babbling) while Mitch was out on his balcony teaching Billy how to man a grill.

I cancelled my freak out, sipped my wine, ate dinner with my family, got the kids to bed and forced Mitch to watch a Cubs game on TV with me (Cubs win!) before I gave him his reward for being a really nice guy and I did this when we were in his bed.

* * * * *

The police freed my apartment for clean up which I was dreading not only because it was going to be a big job but also I didn’t want to get elbow deep in the proof that all that I’d worked so hard to build had been destroyed.

Mitch, being Mitch, dealt with this too.

When I had a day off, he sorted his mother getting the kids from school then he sorted it so LaTanya, Tess, Penny and the women of two other buddies he had on The Force, Jet and Roxie, came over.

I was kind of in awe of Jet and Roxie, seeing as their stories had hit the paper then they’d had books written about their love affairs with their current husbands. But they were really cool, a little crazy and with the five of us working, it didn’t take very long at all regardless of the fact that, upon getting into it, it was worse than I thought and there was very little that could be salvaged.

But those five being the five they were actually made it kind of fun. This was especially considering Penny had brought along brochures and catalogues and spent a liberal amount of time explaining her “vision” which was a vision I liked a whole lot.

Therefore, Penny ordered needed furniture and a variety of other trimmings the next day. She, Sue Ellen and I went shopping twice (once with LaTanya) to sort out the rest (dishes, sheets, etc.) and Mitch (once with Derek) watched the kids while we were out so Billie wouldn’t be let in on what had happened. Then Mitch took Billy to do what I decreed was the “man stuff”, in other words, they bought my new TV, DVD player, PS3 and stereo while Billie and I stayed home which meant she got her finger and toenails polished and I got to watch Finding Nemo.

We stored the purchases at my place but stayed at Mitch’s until Penny’s order fully arrived a week and a half ago. Mr. Pierson scheduled the delivery of the new mattresses the same day. While I was at work, Penny (with Sue Ellen’s help) had come in and personally “styled” it, furniture, lamps, pictures on the walls. They’d even put the sheets on the beds, the dishes in the cupboards and Billie’s teddy bear on her made up bed.

It looked awesome.

That night after school, the kids and I moved back in.

Billie had totally bought the story that we were with Mitch because my apartment was getting redecorated. Billy knew better but, as usual, to protect his sister, he kept her in the dark.

* * * * *

When we moved back to my place, so did Mitch (kind of). Without asking (but I was not going to argue), he put a toothbrush in my (new) toothbrush holder, shave cream, razors and deodorant in my medicine cabinet and a variety of sports jackets, shirts and jeans in my closet, shoving my stuff aside to put underwear, tees, pajamas and socks in my drawers.

After he did this, I rearranged my drawers so he had two of his own. I did this while fighting back tears. Not tears caused by Mitch being invasive but tears caused by Mitch making a statement I liked and that was, he was in my life, my kids’ lives and he intended to stay there even if there was now a breezeway separating us.