Sometimes, Chepa and I are in sync; sometimes not

Today was a day when Chepa and I were not in sync.
It started out well, with a morning phone call that ended with my asking if she was really naked under her clothes and she laughed and repeated a Peruvian river proverb that basically says "Give an Indian an inch and he'll be climbing up your back."
And then things changed somehow, though I didn't know it.
We have no set dates for having Madeleina. She's with me when she's with me; she's with mom when mom wants her. It comes out pretty even at month's end, and generally doesn't cause much friction between us and works out pretty well for Madeleina as well.
Well, as Chepa had had Madeleina for a few days I thought I'd bring her here last night. So I made a leaf pile about four feet high and 8 feet wide in the afternoon, something Madeleina and Sierra had asked me to do. When I was finished raking it looked like a good jumping-pile: No sticks, no rocks, no half-bricks, just leaves.
And then I called Chepa to say I'd be picking up Madeleina from school because I had a nice surprise, and discovered that her phone had just been disconnected. Damn her boyfriend who can't afford anything! So I just went and picked up Madeleina and we started taking a country road back to our house. She likes the country roads and it gives me a few extra minutes to talk with her, listen to her sing, etc.
Suddenly Madeleina screamed.
"What's wrong, Macaroni?" I asked.
"Oh, my god, that's mom behind us!" she answered.
I looked in the rear view and sure enough, there was Chepa, coming up on us at 60 in a 40 MPH zone in my second truck. She's been using it until her car can get repaired.
"Dad, this is like a scary movie. Why is she following us? Is she stalking us? Oh, my god. Mom's crazy!"
"Nah. She's just playing. She'll follow us home."
Twenty seconds later, Chepa waved and I waved back.
Ten seconds later, Madeleina screamed again. "God dad, where's mom? She's disappeared. Maybe the aliens got her!"
I looked in the rear view and saw Chepa making a three-point U-turn.
"She's just turning around, baby. No problem."
As we drove the next few miles Madeleina made a bunch of good stalking jokes. I assured her that because mom's telephone was down there was just simple miscommunication.
Until we turned onto our street and there was my green truck, Chepa at the helm.
"Oh, shit!" I said. "This is getting pretty wierd..."
I pulled into the driveway and Chepa pulled in behind me. She flung open the door and demanded furiously that Madeleina go with her. Sierra followed her out onto the driveway, a doll in her arms. From the sound of what she was saying, she evidently hadn't thought we were playing out on the road. I wanted to say no, that Madeleina would stay with me but I didn't. I learned years ago not to argue with that voice--yelling louder doesn't accomplish anything and screaming at each other in front of the kids is not a real positive thing to do. So I let a very crying Madeleina go with mom. And Sierra, with mom, was crying too. "I see you made a big pile of leaves but mom's not going to let us jump in them, Mr. P Gorman," she said astutely. And then they were gone.
Tell you what. I sure do like it better when we're on the same wavelength. Which we weren't today. Not by a longshot.