I, unfortunately, didn’t get to pass out and sleep that particular night a year ago. I had to get my daughter ready for school and head to a grueling Monday morning at work.

“Hi,” I say.

“You’re mad at me. I can hear it in your voice.”

“And you sound sober.”

“I am. But it’s still early,” he jokes.

“That’s not funny, Blue.”

He clears his throat. “I know. You’re right. I’m two weeks sober, actually.”

“That’s great.” I force myself to sound positive, but I’ve heard this before.

“I miss you, Ladybug. I think about you all the time.”

“I miss you too. You know I do.”

“How’s Lyric?”

I lean back in my chair and spin it toward the window. “She’s great. She loves school, she’s making friends. She loves to read. She’s reading books way ahead of her grade level.”

“She got that from you. I got the pictures you sent me. She’s adorable.”

“She is.”

“How’s Acorn?”

“He’s doing okay. He’s got cataracts now, and he doesn’t hear very well anymore. He limps sometimes. The vet says he has arthritis. He’s still happy, though. Lyric just loves him to pieces. They’re inseparable.”

“You’re a great mom, Piper. To both of them.” He pauses. “I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t know you were taking care of them.”

I want to tell him I didn’t have a choice, because he abandoned me with both of them. But I don’t, because I know he’s incapable of taking care of anyone—himself included.

“Well, I love them. So it’s easy.” I glance at the clock on my desk. “I hate to cut this short, but you caught me just as I was about to leave the office. I have to pick up Lyric at a friend’s house.”

“Can I call you tonight at home?”

“If you want to. But if you forget, I’m not going to call you.” We played that game last year. He’d email me and tell me he was going to call, and I’d sit and wait. And wait. I’d lose patience, give in, and call him and he’d either be out or inebriated in some way, and I’d feel like an idiot for waiting around for him.

“I won’t forget. I promise.”

I think about him as I drive across town. He sounded good today, like he did years ago. I know better than to get my hopes up, though, because we’ve been here before.

So many times.

As soon as Lyric’s in the car, I push Blue out of my mind to focus on her. I refuse to let him crawl back into my head and my heart and distract me from all the important things in my life.

I take Lyric to the diner for dinner. We have grilled cheese and share a milkshake while she tells me all about her day. Later, we put our pajamas on and sit in my bed watching Disney movies like we do every Friday night.

At ten-thirty my phone rings, and I pick it up before it wakes Lyric. She has fallen asleep beside me.

“Wow, you called,” I say, smiling with surprise.

“I’m trying to live up to my promises.”

“This is a good start.”

“How was your night?”

“The usual. I took Lyric to the diner, we took Acorn for a short walk, then we watched television. Exciting, huh?”

I wonder what rock stars do with their time. I doubt he sits around watching television.

“Honestly? It sounds nice.”

“It is nice,” I agree. “So what about you? Where are you now?”

“I got home last month.”

“I heard you did a tour in Europe?”

“Yeah, it was wild. The fans are crazy over there, they’re so passionate. And the food is fucking amazing. I got some new ink while I was there, I found a killer artist. I’ll send you pictures if you want to see.”

“I’d love to see.”

Lyric stirs next to me and pops her head up. “Mommy. Is that Gramma?”

“No, it’s a friend of mine.”

“Can I say hello?”

“Not tonight.”

“Wow. That’s her?” Blue asks.

“Yup. That’s her. Can you hold on for a few minutes while I take her to bed?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

I lay the phone on the nightstand. “Let’s get you in your bed, okay?”

“Can’t I sleep with you tonight?”

“Mommy’s going to be on the phone for a little while so you should sleep in your own bed.” I jump off the bed and hold my hand out to her. “Let’s go brush our teeth.”

It takes me fifteen minutes to get her ready and into her own bed, and it hurts my heart when she asks me again who I’m talking to. I tell her again it’s a friend. Not telling her who it really is feels like a betrayal, but I’m not ready to tell her about Blue yet. Lyric has never asked me where her father is, or who he is, but I know as she gets older she’ll be asking those questions. I have no idea how I’m going to tackle that.