Jake glanced at his phone impatiently, then leaned forward over his steering wheel to get a better view of the storm clouds rushing his way. If the dumb bitch doesn’t get here soon, it’ll rain on the kids, he fumed. After another glance at his phone, the first fat drops began to splatter onto the roof and windshield of his truck before giving way to a full downpour. She’ll blame it on the rain, he concluded and he cracked a window to keep from fogging up. The storm dumped puddles and formed streams all over the McDonald’s parking lot. Jake had parked closer to the frontage road for this reason. His truck was soaked but clear of standing water. His boots would remain dry, and Kara couldn’t complain. And an hour after the agreed upon time, she pulled into the space across from Jake, the storm still at work. Jake stepped out the truck into the onslaught and Kara motioned to him and mouthed words. And she started as soon as he opened the passenger door.

“I’m not forcing the kids out in this. Just sit with us,” she snapped.

Jake thought about needling her over the lost hour but tried to keep it civil. He turned to his children in the back seat. Kyle, age six, and Mary Lee, age four smiled at him and Jake broke into a grin. “Really coming down, huh?” he said to the back seat. “I want ice cream,” Kyle said as he looked through the rain to the bright arches. “Me too,” chimed Mary Lee, playfully kicking her feet.

“Well damn Jake. Nice to see you too. You sober?” came a low hiss from the driver seat. Jake closed his eyes and then opened them on the driver, holding her gaze. Then a new grin appeared on his lips and with his eyes trained on Kara he asked, “How’s the arm Kyle?”

“Good. Doctor Simpkins says I’m better than ever.” replied his son.

“Good to hear Kyle. Glad you’re all healed up,” Jake smarted.

Kara turned her eyes to the rain pounding Jake’s truck, then let out a soft “jackass.”

While it’s true, Jake was not sober the night Kyle broke his arm, Kara was the one responsible for the accident. And Jake had yet to schedule a court date to bring this to the attention of Judge Bellancourt. Kara still believed Jake was taking his time. Had Jake been the parent responsible for the broken arm, she would’ve sued for sole custody, visitation up to her petty whims. Had she known he was tired of court and broke, she might have pushed her luck. Had she known it wasn’t alcohol, she would’ve made his life miserable.

After that night, Jake made new rules for himself. No weed when the kids are with me and none before they go to bed. Once they’re in bed, I can cut lose, he decided. On the day Kyle broke his arm, Jake had been high since his morning coffee. And when he arrived in the emergency room, he reeked of sour cannabis smoke and his eyes were so bloodshot. A nurse asked if he had pink eye. And though he was stoned, the question yanked Jake from his stupor into an all out panic. Under the guise of going for food, he made a quick dash to the TJ Maxx down the street from the hospital for a shirt and some deodorant.

That day at the hospital, Kara was wreck. Between hysteric sobs and whispers of regret, her heart spun out of control. And on top of feeling like a terrible mother and worried about the looming wrath of her ex-husband, she was drunk. Earlier in the day, Kara had polished off a bottle of chardonnay. Between baking brownies and watching her favorite reality show, she’d lost track of Kyle. He was upstairs playing cave explorer. And just about as she was about to check Instagram, a shriek pierced her spine and shot adrenaline through her veins. Without thinking, she’d bolted upstairs and scooped Kyle off his bedroom floor and raced back downstairs, all while asking what happened and trying to comfort her injured son.

Neither parent noticed the intoxication of the other in the Emergency Room but Kara’s mother did. And she waited until the the next day to scold Kara and tattle on Jake. “I don’t know what’s worse Kara Lee, you or him, or your son. We spent all that money get you married and then divorced. And this is how you parent?” chided Alice during one of many lectures that followed.

Jake’s phoned buzzed.

“Got a hot date?” Kara sniped. Jake let the phone continue to buzz until the call rolled to voice mail, then turned back to his children.

“What kind of ice cream do you want Mary Lee?” he asked his daughter.

“SWIRL!” she squeaked at an ear-piercing decibel, then began to dance in her car seat.

“Me too.” Added Kyle, still staring at the arches, the rain beginning to ease into a drizzle.

Silence filled the front seat, and the man with an ex-wife and two young children thought of ways to embarrass Kara, then pushed it out of his mind. For all the hurt and lies, what he wanted was peace. And a tension filled peace would do since no other would come. And she sensed his eyes on her cheek, a feeling once longed for now sent her into a rage. What right did he have to look at me? But she remained quiet.

“Alright, y’all. We ready to go?” Jake asked as the clouds turned from purple to gray, a few shafts of sunlight breaking through.

“Yeah!” yipped both kids in unison. And he opened his door to step outside.

A few moments later, Kara watched Jake drive up to the speaker box beside the menu board. This is my life she thought, then closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. She dreaded the drive home, to her empty home. And then Jake pulled around the restaurant out of sight.