Truth is, I might as well be. This is the first time I’ve spoken to my ex in almost two years.
“What is it that you’re calling me about?”
He grumbles something before replying, “This is about Shanice of course.” As if I should know.
“What about my daughter?”
“Why did you encourage Shanice to abandon her husband?”
My jaw almost hits the floor, and my eyes pop out of my head. “Excuse me?”
“I said?—”
“No, I heard exactly what you said. Do you know what that man did to her? How he treated her? Now, you’re here blaming me for her saving herself by leaving?”
His reaction is preposterous.
“If it wasn’t for you putting notions of abandoning her family in her head, she wouldn’t have walked away and our son-in-law wouldn’t be calling me in tears days before Christmas begging for his family back!”
“Do you even hear yourself? You sound ridiculous.”
“I’m the only sane one in this conversation. First you fly off the handle for God only knows what and divorce me. Even after I waswillingto take you back after your initial mental lapse of judgement. But no, you decided to keep up the charade and follow through with it, and now look where it’s gotten us.
“Divorced and our oldest daughter—the most responsible one of the two of them—up and leaving her husband without a word.”
“Rick …” I trail off, refraining from telling him to go straight to hell.
“Did you ever stop to think and ask yourself why our oldest daughter, the one who is always the calmest, most accepting and agreeable, would upend her life and the lives of her children just days before Christmas?
“Did it ever occur to you, for once, to consider that the sweet, beautiful girl that we raised is actually a rational, loving wife and mother who would never carelessly rip her children from their father without a good reason?
“Did you?” I shout, without meaning to.
“Well, I-I?—”
“Or have you once called her and told her how much you love her and care for her and that whatever it is she’s going through,you’ll be there for her because you’re her father and her safety and well-being always come first?
“Did you do that, you pompous son of a bitch?
“Or did you just call me to try to bully me into telling her to go home to a man who would put bruises on her wrist and endanger her physical health by sleeping with God knows who?
“And that’s not even to mention endangering her mental health and well-being!”
There’s a pause on the other end of the phone.
The only sound that can be heard is my heavy breathing. Anger pulses through me at his audacity.
“Do not ever, and I meanevercall my damn phone again with this bullshit or so help me, I will fly to Atlanta and put my fist through your face!”
With that I hang up the phone on my ex.
In a fit of anger, I shove my door open, not expecting Shanice to be standing right there.
She stands there with moisture in her eyes a second before she bursts into tears as she throws her arms around my neck, sobbing into my shoulder.
“It’s okay, baby,” I console, rubbing her back as her body trembles.
“It’s not okay,” she blubbers. “I’m s-s-so s-sorry.” Her breathing intensifies as she continually apologizes over and over.
