Scrolling through my Facebook feed, I see a new picture of my ex and his younger and—even I can’t deny it—fucking gorgeous girlfriend. It was taken somewhere in Barbados . . . and fuck it hurts. I always wanted to go to Barbados, but he’d never take me. He was always too busy working and fucking that whore.

I let out a deep breath and shake my head of the nasty thoughts that plague me. “Mom?” I hear my thirteen-year-old daughter, Annabelle, call for me from down the hall. I lock the screen on my phone and toss it on the bed. Then she is in the doorway of my room, wearing the most ridiculous outfit. 

“Oh my God, honey, what did you do to yourself?” And her hair is a knotted and tangled poufy mess.

“It’s Throwback Thursday. Remember?”

I haven’t got the slightest clue what she’s referring to.

“Of course I remember,” I lie.

“Well, what do you think? Do I look eighties enough?”

“You do, honey.”

“Good, Polly and Suzy will be here soon, and then we can go. Don’t forget you’re a chaperone.” Shit, now it’s coming back to me.

“Will Mr. Rogers be there?” I call out to her, saying a silent prayer in hopes he won’t.

“Yup!”

Sonofabitch.

Mr. Rogers is the nutbag, assistant principal at her junior high and a real pain in my ass. It’s not my fault he looks identical to the real Mr. Rogers. You’d laugh at him, too.

Getting off my bed, I automatically grab my phone. The second that it’s in my hand, the image of Tom and that girl fucking haunts me. Angrily, I toss it aside and venture into my closet.

Looking at all my clothes, I have no idea what to wear and wonder why I even agreed to chaperone.

I think I was drunk. No wait, I’m sure of it.

You’d think to be as old as I am, it’d be simple to find something from the eighties to wear, but it’s not. I didn’t keep any of that shit. The doorbell rings in the distance, and Annabelle hollers up to me, “I’ll get it.”

Frustrated, I decide on a pair of LuLaRoe leggings—they have a funky neon print—and peeking at me from the back of my closet is an old tutu from a Halloween party. I put on the outfit and pair it all with a black cami.

Fuck, I look ridiculous.

After using an entire can of hairspray and teasing my locks into a poufy mess like Anna’s, I head downstairs to see who’s here.

“Oh wow, Mrs. M., you look awesome,” Polly, one of Annabelle’s friends, says to me.

It’s Mizzzz, I wanna tell her, but I don’t. “Thanks, so do you.”

Annabelle rolls her eyes at me; I swear to God, that child hates me. She’s so hot and cold all the time.

“What? You don’t like it?” I ask.

“The parents aren’t supposed to dress up, Mom.”

“No?” I respond coyly and take the opportunity to sneak a quick drink. My nerves are shot after working all day at a job I barely know how to do. Then, I thought I’d get a night to relax, but instead, I’m bombarded with the news that I get to chaperone a bunch of fucking kids.

I head into the kitchen, then open one of the cabinets, and pull out my favorite to-go cup—these things are lifesavers. Thank God you can fit an entire bottle of wine in a Starbucks venti-size cup.

Hallelujah!

I crack open a bottle of white wine, looking into the living room to make sure the girls aren’t watching me. Then the doorbell rings again, and I turn my back to them while I fill my cup. The second I’m finished, I toss the bottle into the trash, and Josh, Suzy’s dad, is waving at me. Nervously, I sip my wine and return the gesture.

God, he’s hot and so fucking married.

Why couldn’t I snag a man like him?

“Wow, you look awesome,” he says, standing across from me at my kitchen island.

“Thanks,” I tell him, sucking the wine through my straw as if my next words depend on it.

“Erica and I really appreciate you taking Suzy. We are hosting game night, and you know how much Erica loves her game night.”

“No, problem,” I utter; I know how much Erica loves to host. I’ve been to her drag parties, and Lord help me if I have to fake it through another.

Josh has his hands in his pockets, flexing the corded muscles in his forearms.

Who has forearm muscles like that?

“Well, have a good night,” he says and turns, giving Suzy a hug and kiss on the way out.

I stand there with my cup in hand, slurping my straw in the most ridiculous outfit and wonder, how is this my life?

“Ready, Mom?” Annabelle asks, and I nod, wishing I had more wine to get me through the night or time to change and fix my hair. Oh well, surely I’ve gone out looking worse.

On the drive, the three girls huddle in the back seat. They are all quiet, and as we pull up to a stoplight, I type in ’80s Hits on my Pandora Radio Station app. As the first song comes on, I’m so taken back in time.

I turn up the song and lock eyes with Anna through the mirror. She shakes her head, mortified as I belt out the most ridiculous rendition of “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.” Polly and Suzy laugh hysterically, and I wish I could get the same reaction from Anna.

“Your mom is awesome,” Suzy says.

Polly agrees, adding, “Yeah, she is.”

I pull in front of the skating rink, and the three girls pile out from the back seat.

“Love you,” I call out to Anna, and she gives me a wave, which is better than nothing. After I park my car, I can’t bring myself to go inside. Not only do I look ridiculous, but who am I kidding? Anna doesn’t want me here dressed like this.

Before giving myself over to the pain in the ass, Mr. Rogers, I light up a cigarette and relish in the burn of the nicotine. Out of habit, I open my phone. That same picture of Tom and the whore stares back at me, and I wonder where my life went so wrong. Am I really that appalling that my husband found his secretary more attractive?

I sip the last of my wine and then get out of my car. After I drop my cigarette to the ground and step on it, I realize I have slippers on.

Of course, I do.

White, granny-like slippers.

“Hey, you gotta light?” someone asks, and I look to see a young man leaning against the building opening a pack of cigarettes.

“Yeah, sure,” I tell him and dig into my purse.

“You here for the ’80s night party?” he asks me.

“Yeah, you?”

“I work here.”

The guy must be in college and is sexy as hell. Chiseled jaw, messy hair, and abs that are staring at me through his thin white T-shirt.

“Is it busy in there?” I ask, passing him the lighter.

“Not really. The old douche from the school is riding my balls, so I had to step away.” He passes me his cigarettes, and I take one out.

“Does he have thin wire glasses?” I ask.

“Sure does.”

“That’s Mr. Rogers.” He lights our cigarettes and then passes me back my lighter.

“No shit? That’s why he looked familiar, I knew I’d seen him before.”

I chuckle. “He’s not the real Mr. Rogers, but they do look identical, and the name is just perfect. You can’t be old enough to have watched that when you were a kid.”

“I’m twenty-one; I saw that shit.”

I roll my eyes, remembering the days when I’d pretend I was older than I was. Now I’d do anything to be younger than I am. Being in my forties is no fucking joke.

Together, the guy and I smoke, resting against the cool brick wall. Without much more conversation, we finish our cigarettes and he asks me, “You wanna come in this way?”

“Sure,” I tell him, his green eyes are fucking captivating me.

“What’s your name?” he asks, opening the back door for me.

“Regina.”

“I’m Cole; it’s nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

He walks in ahead of me, and I follow him to the rink. The inside is filled with kids—a lot of kids—and I look around to see which parents are here and if any made the mistake of dressing up.

Nope, just me.

“Thanks for the light,” Cole tells me and squeezes the top of my shoulder. The simple touch from him alone sends tingles throughout my body. I haven’t had a man’s hands on me since Tom left eight months ago.

I smile, watching him walk off.

“Oh, heavens, Regina, I’m so glad you made it.” Mr. Rogers is suddenly all up in my face.

“Yup, I’m here. What do you need me to do?”

“Make sure these kids aren’t fraternizing too closely.”

“Anything else?”

“Nope.”

Really? That’s what he needs? That’s why I’m here?

Cole walks by with a tray full of sodas and gives me a wink. I can’t help but smile at him. But my smile changes to laughter when Mr. Rogers chases him down. Looking around, I spot Anna and her friends sitting on the side of the rink.

“What are you girls up to?” I ask, noticing they don’t have skates on.

“Nothing!” Anna shouts a little too loudly and then tosses her phone to Suzy.

“What’s going on?” I take a seat next to them.

“Just tell her, Anna,” Suzy says.

“No way.”

“Come on, your mom is like totes cool,” Polly chimes in.

“Yeah, I totes am,” I tell her.

She lets out a breath of air then says, “You guys tell her.”

“The boy that Anna is crushing on from school is here, and he just texted her.”

“Well, what did he say?”

“He said to meet in the photo booth in five minutes.”

“Where is he?” I ask.

“Don’t ruin this, Mom,” Anna begs me.

“I won’t, cut me a little slack.”

Then Polly says, “Don’t look now, but the table to the left of the photo booth, he’s the one with the blond hair.

Very cooly, I glance around, and when I look at the young boy with his messy surfer hair, he’s got his eyes on my daughter.

I glance at Anna, and she looks petrified, so I scold her, “Smile at him.”

She listens, and as she smiles, her cheeks flush.

“What do I do now?” she asks, and I notice she’s still staring and smiling awkwardly.

“Look away.”

“Where?” she asks.

“At us.”

My girl looks over at me with an expression I’ve never seen on her face.

“You really like him?” I ask her. When she nods, I tell her, “Then text him and say you want to skate together first.”

“Why?”

“Because, young boys are—” But before I can finish, Cole is behind us, handing us some sodas.

“I made this one, just for you,” he tells me, and the second I take it into my hand, I can smell the liquor fermenting from the tip of the straw.

“Thank you,” all the girls say as his eyes eat me alive. My pussy tightens as I watch the way he licks his lips and moves so smoothly.

“You know him?” Polly asks.

“Yeah, I know him.”

“Shit, shit, shit,” Annabelle repeats, and we all look to see why she’s cursing.

About twenty feet in front of her is the boy she likes, and he’s on his way over to her.

“What do I do?” she asks me, but before I can answer, we are all shocked as he takes another girl by the hand and leads her into the photo booth.

I catch a glimpse of Anna, and I can see the true heartbreak come over her face. My motherly instincts kick in, and I shoot across the skating rink, dodging kids along the way. My tutu bounces with every forceful stomp. I’m a mother bear in full protection mode of my cub.

No way will any fucking boy mess with my daughter.

Two boys stand outside the booth like they’re keeping guard. But my death glare makes them scatter, and I angrily yank open the curtain to the sight of two kids kissing. It takes everything in me not to kick this little punk square in the dick.

“Out, now!” I shout, probably a little too loudly. They scurry, and with all my might, I tear the curtain straight off the machine.

Fuck this!

With the red drape in my hand, I turn and notice almost everyone staring at me—everyone including Anna.

I toss the curtain into the trash casually and walk quickly to her, knowing I fucked up. But she dashes toward the restroom. “Anna, wait!” I try to stop her, but she locks herself inside. “I’m sorry, Anna.”

“Just go away, Mom.”

With my head on the door, I feel like a fucking fool.

“Please, just go!” she shouts even louder.

When I turn around, I see Cole giving me a half-smile. He raises another soda in the air, and I go to take it from him.

What else can I do?

“Don’t say a word,” I tell him.

“I wasn’t.” He passes me the drink, and I swear this one is stronger than the last.

As I swallow my worries with gulp after gulp, I ask him, “Do you have a key to the restroom?”

“Do you really want to go in there?”

I shake my head, not sure how he knows me so damn well.

“She your only one?” he asks.

“Yeah, and I swear to God, no matter how hard I try, I’m a constant fuck up in her eyes.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“But, it is.”

“At least you’re present. My mom walked out on my dad when I was a kid, and I haven’t seen her since.”

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself, and tell him, “You still are a kid.”

“No, no I’m not.”

A noise from behind us startles me, and I look to see Mr. Rogers as frazzled as ever yelling at a group of kids who are chanting and encouraging a few boys to a dance-off.

“What, they can’t dance now?”

“That man is fucking crazy.”

Another employee walks up to Cole and asks him a question. I look over at the bathroom; the door is still closed. Taking out my cell phone, I text Anna.

Me: Will you please come talk to me? I’m so sorry.

Anna: No, Mom, you completely embarrassed me. Polly’s dad is coming to get us.

What in the world am I supposed to do? The logical part of my brain says to let her go and give her space. But the motherly part says to tell her no that she needs to know I was only trying to help. But she doesn’t see my point of view anymore. However, that doesn’t stop me and I text her again.

Me: I can drive you guys there.

Anna: No thanks.

Which is probably a good thing, because Cole fed me such stiff-ass drinks my head is spinning. Going into my phone, I send a text to Polly’s dad, thanking him for picking them up. It’s nice of him, but that’s how he is; he always does whatever the girls need.

Feeling completely useless and depleted, I head out of the skating rink. I’ve fucked the night up enough.

This is why I never volunteer.

No matter how hard I try, it turns to shit. Like when I lost one of the kids on a trip last year, or when we were late for the bus the year before. It’s that kind of shit that always happens to me, not the other moms. Me.

After getting into my car, I rest my head back against the seat and close my eyes. Maybe a night away from her will help me to clear my mind. The recent shit with Tom and his girlfriend has had my head spinning, and it’s led to me not being myself. I need to figure out how I can be the mom my girl wants and needs me to be.

A knock on the window startles me; I look over to see Cole, leaning against my car. “Were you really gonna leave without saying goodbye?” he asks me. Sheepishly, I nod, and he places his hand over his heart. “Ouch. I barely know you, and you already broke my heart.”

“Whatever!” I yell out.

He opens the car door and reaches for my hand to help me out. Once I stand on my feet, his strong arms wrap securely behind my back, telling me just what he wants. At first, I’m a little startled, but I quickly find comfort in his hold.

“Let me take you home,” he says.

“How are you gonna get home?” I ask.

“I’m not,” he responds and leans down, claiming my lips. You’d think the man had been with hundreds of women for how skilled he is with just a kiss. Hell, maybe he has, but in this moment, I don’t care. Nothing else matters except for this guy and me. All my worries and stresses disappear.

For once, I give in to something for myself, and as I do, I hear giggles coming from across the lot. I open my eyes, Cole never stopping, to see Annabelle staring at me, and her friends laughing as they all get into Polly’s dad’s car. Instant mortification takes over, and I’m not sure what to do or again, how to make this right. And for some stupid reason, I give her a thumbs up.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

A thumbs up? Jesus Christ! She shakes her head, and I swear I’m the biggest mom fail ever.