Page 27 of Insta [FAM]

DION

“Holly-Anna, catch the damn bunny or we are going to be late!” For the love of all the things, why the hell they do shit like this on a Monday is beyond me. Teachers are sadists. Why they do it all is a mystery.

“I can’t find her,” Holly whines. Not being able to find Lola is not a good thing, ever. “She’s gone.” She can’t be gone because other than pulling her out of a hat, Holly-Anna’s only talent is driving me to day-drink at seven-fifteen on a Monday morning. Amelia is running around my house, looking under the furniture for a fluffy butt, calling her name like she would come. Zach is groaning in teenager-speak about being late, and Nelly is outside, waiting in my sister's car.

“Found her.” Zach puts her in the pet carrier Mika left here. It has a giant ‘property of’ sticker on it, but who cares right now. I’m not taking a free-running bunny to school, who knows what sort of massacre she might cause.

“Where’s the hat?” Holly asks as I’m shoving them all out the door.

“At school already, with Granny. Go get in the car.” There’s a fight about who is sitting where, and Nelly won’t move because she got in first. I need to get a new car key, fucking hell. We drop off the big kids first, basically tossing them to the curb so we don’t miss the entire talent morning at Holly-Anna’s school. When we do finally arrive, everyone else is already inside and we’re relegated to standing-room only right at the back. My dad runs over with a giant hat for her rabbit trick, and I say a silent thanks to all things holy that I have amazing parents. Where I fail, they certainly pick up the slack.

“Go join your friends backstage,” I whisper to Holly, and she drags the pet carrier, hat and other collection of shit she brought with, and joins her little friends. I’m watching her, and when she pulls the curtain aside, I see a face I was not expecting.

Mika.

It knocks the wind out of me. His kid goes to school here? Shit.

“Shit.”

The soccer mom in front of me gasps and gives me a death glare. Bitch, these kids cuss more than we do. “Shit what?” Amelia asks me, earning us a shhhh from the bitch in the back row.

“Mika is here.”

“Where?” Amelia says too loud, looking around the room.

“Backstage. With a little girl who must be his daughter.”

“Fuck,” Amelia says, and my mom smacks her on the ear, giving us both the ‘behave or else’ look. Everyone claps for the kid who was on stage when we got here, playing the harmonica. I’m glad that’s over, so I clap too. My ears were about to start bleeding. The next performer is a little girl tap-dancing, and I feel sorry for her mother. Jesus — quiet hobbies and sports only. It takes three kids to learn that lesson, she’s obviously the first little snowflake. Bless her and her mother’s hardwood floors.

Cheers and applause. This is a special kind of torture. They call Holly-Anna next, and my parents clap and cheer as she sets up her hat. She’s got a black silk cape on, it’s my black bondage scarf that came as a gift with my vibrator, but we are not telling anyone that. I hope she didn’t bring anything else from my drawer for her show. If ever one of my kids was like me, it’s Holly-Anna. That’s my hot mess child, it makes me smile watching her get her little self all ready.

“Introducing Lola the magical bunny,” she says, doing a twirl, tripping on her cape and face-planting on the stage. I want to laugh but hold it in. She gets up, straightens herself out, and pulls Lola out of the hat. Not at all thrown off by her fall.

“Lola, is magic! We got her from the shelter where the animal doctor with long hair told my mom she was good. She is good, good at escaping from anywhere — like Houdini. He was an escape artist. The one time she ran away down the road and my mom had to chase her with no pants on.” The crowd laughs, and I can see this is a stand-up comedy act, not a magic show. “She even got a virus on the internet from people watching her and Lola. Lola ate our car key, she made it disappear, so my Auntie Amelia had to drive us to school this morning. She can also disappear your phone charger. She makes my mom cuss, and if she’s not good, Mom is going to make her into a pie. In Europe, people eat bunnies, it’s a delicacy.” Now I’m laughing. “The other night, Lola was trying to escape, and she chewed a dangerous pipe in the kitchen. We almost died and had to stay outside on the sidewalk like hobos all night long. The ambulance came for us, but we were fine and I didn’t get to ride in it. When we were at Auntie Amelia, Lola had to go to the vet, the one with the nice hair and tattoos.” She points backstage, I’m guessing at Mika. “Then my mom had to sleep with the vet all night to make sure she didn’t die. She didn’t die. She’s here, and she’s the best magic bunny ever. I can’t wait to see what she does next.” She hugs the fluff-demon, and her smile is wide, she hasn’t a clue what she just said. Amelia is laughing so hard she has her legs crossed to stop herself from pissing her pants. My father looks less than impressed and my mom is cerise pink. Well, this is a great start to the week, and I can’t even run away because we must all have tea and scones afterward. Fuck my fucking life. That rabbit is going in a pie.

The teachers are all snickering, and a few of the dance moms are laughing loudly, but I don’t care. I’m never going to be them — and I’m the one banging the hot vet while they’re banging the middle-aged accountants in vests.

Three bad dances, one window-shattering violin solo, and a puppet show later, Mika walks out onto the stage. Next to him is the most beautiful little girl, and a man who is very obviously his dad.

“Holy hot pops,” Amelia says, and I elbow her. Mika is wearing a grass skirt and a black t-shirt. My sister isn’t wrong, I’d do him and his dad. At my age I could get away with it. Mika certainly gets his sexy-as-fuck-genes from his father.

“Shit. Fuck.” I get a fright when they start doing whatever they are doing. “Jesus.” He’s actually quite scary. It’s scary, but hot. I shouldn’t be getting turned on in the middle of a kids’ talent show — but I am because Mika is all kinds of fuckable in that grass skirt shouting in another language.

“Close your mouth,” Amelia says. “You’re drooling.” I shut my mouth and try not to imagine dirty things, because he’s pulling the same face he did in bed with me. I wonder if the janitor's closet is open? “Your mind is in the gutter, I can tell.” My sister is laughing at me now.

“Shhhhhh.” Back-row bitch is all upset.

“At least I know my kid has a career in stand-up comedy if magic doesn’t work out,” I say under my breath. Mika and his daughter finish their thing — I have no idea what it was. Other than erotic. I can see all the moms gawking. I bet they’d love to know what’s under that grass skirt of his.

We live through the rest of the show, surviving without gouging our eyes out or going deaf. Of all the kids maybe six had actual talents, they should just let them do it next time and save us all the pain. The parents and tiny humans are all reunited, and Holly hands the pet carrier to Amelia, knowing I loathe her furry friend.

“You were great kiddo,” Amelia encourages her.

“I know.” She’s my kid. “Are we going to have tea and cake with everyone?” she asks, bouncing up and down.

“We sure are,” my mom says, giving her a hug. My dad picks her up and kisses her cheek. We are? Shit. She bounds off ahead of us to the foyer where they have tea set up. Tea isn’t going to cut it, they should have been serving vodka, Valium, and lattes. We are moms — they should know! As I enter the room, Mika and I lock eyes. He doesn’t exactly look happy to see me, but his daughter and mine are in a best buddy hug. Oh dear, no. The new best buddy I assumed was a little boy, is his daughter. I look away to join the line for some dirty water and a stale scone, because I don’t like the way he’s looking at me. It’s uncomfortable. My peace is short-lived when him, his parents and daughter are right behind me in the line.

“Mom.” Holly-Anna tugs at my shirt. “Can Aroha and I have a playdate? You promised when you met her parents you’d ask. She only has a dad. So, you can ask him now. He’s the vet that made you get Lola, the huge man that knocked on the door.” How do I wiggle out of this one? Mika is looking at me with a smirk, waiting to see what I’m going to do. Asshat.