Free Moms Night Out by Tricia Goyer Page B

for support. Her feet hurt, and she remembered why she hadn’t worn these type of shoes in two years. A nice dinner out would be worth the pain . . . but as of this moment she questioned if that would happen. She turned back toward her friends.
    Sondra strode up and placed a hand on Allyson’s arm. “Everything okay?” She clutched her small purse to her chest.
    Allyson released a heavy breath and stopped her stilettoed foot. “No. They lost our reservation. The wait is two and a half hours. This is going to totally ruin our night.”
    From the corner of her eye she noticed Izzy grabbing a plate of half-eaten appetizers that had been abandoned at the bar. Izzy moved to the waiting bench by the front door and sat, shoveling the fancy nachos into her mouth as if she hadn’t eaten all day.
    Allyson puffed out another breath. Is this what their night had come to? Her best friend sneaking leftovers since Allyson hadn’t been able to fulfill what she’d promised?
    Sondra smoothed down her dark hair. Every strand was perfectly in place. “You know what? Everything’s going to be okay.” Sondra’s voice was calm, too calm for the situation.
    Allyson spread out her arms, in defeat. “There is a man-child playing death video games at home with my son,” her voice rose with every word.
    Sondra’s voice was calm. “Ally, Ally, relax. I’m sure that Sean has everything in control. Everything’s going to be alright. Relax.”
    Sondra, always the levelheaded one. But even the mellow words of her pastor’s wife could not diminish the angst she felt inside. She’d left her husband and kids at home, but she hadn’t left her frustration with man-child Kevin there. She hadn’t left her annoyance with Sean back in the driveway, no matter how she pretended she had. Instead, she played it all out in her mind again.
    I bet Sean’s playing some game with the kids, something like cops and robbers and it’s gotten totally out of control.
    She could see it—see it so clearly in her mind’s eye. Kevin and Sean tied up in chairs, backs to each other, wrapped up in packing tape, their arms pinned down so they couldn’t move.
    Her eyes fluttered closed, and she could picture the toddlers running wild. Screams echoed off the walls and cabinets. Packing tape strung from every chair, table, and wall to the center of the den. Allyson resisted the urge to bolt from the restaurant— resisted the urge to jump in the minivan and race to their rescue.
    She swallowed hard, trying to keep her heart from pounding and opened her eyes.
    The house was most likely a plane wreck, and in total chaos. The kids most likely were running—with scissors—as unwholesome music blared from the computer games. Bailey probably jumped up and down, dancing wildly to the music.
    Then there was the worst part . . . Brandon playing death video games, and Kevin going into meltdown mode since he admittedly didn’t like kids.
    “I didn’t sign up for this. I didn’t sign up for this!” She could hear Kevin screeching in her mind.
    Allyson also bet that Marco was all freaked out, crouched in the kitchen, and overwhelmed. Sean would try to control things as he always did, and he’d swagger over to Marco, with Kevin still attached to his back, and offer the Braveheart speech. “This is your moment! Fatherhood . . . man it up!”
    And one of the twins would be in a video game coma, which was going to make him have nightmares and which would make Izzy mad at her on Monday. Yes, she played it all out in her mind.
    She didn’t have time to ponder it any further, because someone walking by caught Allyson’s attention. She recognized the dark hair and the swagger. “Joey?” He was dressed nicer than usual.
    She’d at first been impressed with Bridget’s ex-boyfriend when she’d brought him to meet them. Joey was handsome and engaging. He always dressed nice, and he seemed to have his act together. But it was just for show. He didn’t have a job. He didn’t