Free Amy Maxwell's 6th Sense by Heather Balog

room and not telling any of them where I am.
    “We’re not,” Roger tells me as he collapses dramatically onto the side of the bed.
    I stare at him, my jaw coming dangerously close to my boobs. Which is difficult because my boobs practically hang down to my knees. “What do you mean? I thought you took care of it?”
    Roger closes his eyes and massages his temples. “I tried to, Amy. But the resort is booked solid. There are no rooms to be had. So we’re going to have to make the best of this.”
    Make the best of this? Is he nuts? I can barely fall asleep in a room with just him, let alone an entire circus tent full of kids. They’re unmanageable at best when I can send them off to individual rooms. How’s it going to be if I can separate them all week? Or get away from them myself? And with one bathroom? One freaking bathroom?
    I realize that Colt has been speaking and I haven’t heard a word he has said. I feel guilty for a second, until I remember that I speak and nobody listens to me all the time . Like right now...as Colt and Evan proceed to jump on the bed. Again.
    Despite the bouncing, Roger has managed to fall asleep on the bed. He is gently snoring within seconds. Allie glances up from her phone in disgust.
    “Is he really gonna snore all night? You know nobody else is gonna be able to sleep if he snores, right?”
    I sink down onto the other bed and massage my own temples. “Yes, Allie. I am aware of his snoring.” Why do you think I’m so sleep deprived, kid?
    “I didn’t even want to come on this vacation, Mother,” she reminds me with a scowl.
    “Yes, Allie. I know.” I am beginning to sound a bit like a robot. Why did I even agree to this vacation? I had to know it wasn't going to be fun at all. But, like Roger says, I’m going to have to make the best of it.
    I pick up the phone and press button number two. It rings briefly and then is answered by a very chipper voice. “Room service!”
    “Hello,” I say into the receiver. “I’d like to order a pitcher of margaritas, please.”

~Seven~
 
    “Hello again, Amy.”
    I open the door to find Jason standing on the other side of it, tray of margaritas in hand. He looks absolutely debonair wearing a tux, his dark hair slicked back, and a smile that showcases his dimples, deeply ingrained in his smooth, tanned skin.
    “Why, Jason!” I gasp as I pull on the tie of what should be my ratty bathrobe. Only it has somehow morphed into a sophisticated silk dressing gown. “What are you doing here?”
    “Don’t be coy, Amy,” Jason admonishes. He holds up the tray. “I have the margaritas that you ordered,” he explains, sweeping into our humble hotel room. The children are all in various stages of undress since they were planning to go visit the hotel pool. They stare at him like he is a green Martian with six heads and four testicles.
    “Hello, children,” he remarks in an affectionate voice of a great uncle of some sort. They still continue to gawk, causing Jason to raise his eyebrows at me. “The cat got their tongues?” He offers me one of the margaritas on the tray.
    I accept the salt rimmed glass, teaming with golden liquid. “Actually, they're not usually this quiet,” I reply.
    “Maybe you should get rid of them,” he remarks with a wink.
    Completely taken aback, I stumble and nearly trip over the mountain of shoes my girls have already managed to create in the middle of the room. “That’s a horrific idea!” I gasp while dramatically clutching my chest. Visions of Jason dumping my children off a cliff race to mind.
    “My dear, I didn’t mean permanently,” Jason says, as if he has read my mind.
    I sigh with relief as he explains, “You should come to my room. It’s a suite with several bedrooms.”
    I clutch my chest again, appalled by the insinuation that I would leave my family vacation to shack up with him. “Jason! I’m a married woman!”
    Jason smiles cockily and grabs my hand. He brings it to his lips as he