“Ya like that? You’re just out in the world, working, minding your business, and you’re constantly hounded, doubted, accused. We’ve been over this too many times. I’m done,” he says, stuffing his computer into its cover.
“Done with what?” I ask, calmly.
“This conversation. Don’t—don’t do that—twist my words, make it seem like I meant...”
“I just asked a question for clarification,” I say.
“This is what you do. You’re manipulative, but you think you’re this innocent, put-upon wife. I don’t buy the act. In fact, I’m pretty sick of it. You need help, Cora. You should go see whoever it was you saw last time you spun out like this.”
“Dr. Higgins,” I offer.
“Yes,” he says, not even really paying attention anymore, but looking at his phone.
“Ah. Maybe I do need to talk to someone,” I say, but he doesn’t hear. His fingers are furiously texting, and then he announces he’s meeting Buddy.
“It’s four o’clock. I thought you were getting drinks later tonight,” I say, and he sighs and goes to pick up his coat where he’s tossed it over the side of the couch.
“This is exactly what I’m talking about” is all he says before I hear his footsteps down the hall and the garage door opening. I sit down on a kitchen stool and bury my face in my hands.
“Mom,” I hear a small voice say. I look up, and Mia stands in the arched entry into the kitchen with her hands lost inside her sweatshirt sleeves, looking like a little girl.
“Honey, hi. Are you okay?” I ask, and she runs over and wraps her arms around me.
“Oh, sweetheart, what? What’s wrong?” I ask, pulling out of the hug to look at her. There are tears in her eyes.
“He was so mean to you.”
“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry you had to overhear that. No, no. He’s just, yes, he’s being a bit of a...”
“Dick,” she supplies.
“He’s under a lot of stress, and things just boiled over today. I am so sorry that we let our stupid argument affect you. That’s not okay. Everything is fine,” I reassure her.
“Okay,” she says. “And for the record, I still like your hair. It’s not Barbie. It’s cool,” she says. My heart swells with love for her. My little empath girl who tries to be so hard for the world around her.
“I like it, too,” I say, and I can tell it’s a rare moment where she wants more from me. She doesn’t want to run to her room or go out with a friend. She wants her mom.
“I have triple ripple fudge I hid in the back of the freezer if you want,” I suggest.
“Does it have a fur coat of freezer burn on it?” she asks.
“Possibly.”
She shrugs, and we sit on stools at the kitchen island as the sky gets dusky with streaky pinks and reds. She sits cross-legged, and we eat right from the half-gallon container with two spoons.
“Are you gonna, like, get divorced?” she asks, and I feel a nausea like motion sickness move through me.
“Nooo,” I say, a knee-jerk response. Then, after a minute or so I add, “How would you feel if we did?”
Mia doesn’t rush to tears or look shocked. All of a sudden she looks like a kid who knows so much more than I ever gave her credit for.
“I wanna tell you something,” she says. Every part of me tenses. It’s the sentence and tone together a mother doesn’t want to hear because it could be any horrible thing that comes next. She looks down and taps her spoon on the counter, nervously.
“You’re always asking, like all the time, what’s wrong with me lately. But, like, for a year. Not that it’s, like, your business, but things...I don’t know, changed for me...then. Whenever. I just mean, that pot you found, back in January and I said it was a friend’s. It kind of was. Someone did give it to me, but the point is, the joint a few weeks ago, it really wasn’t mine. Like, I get why you’d say what you said to Dad is all I mean. I’ve thought the same thing a couple times...just had a feeling,” she says. I don’t ask her for more information. I don’t ask her what she means. My heart suddenly breaks at the thought that she has to worry about who Finn is fucking. It infuriates me. But my only worry is about her now.
“Who gave you the joint?” I ask.
“That’s the thing. It’s, like, I’m afraid to make you guys mad, but, Mom, for God’s sake. I’ll be a legal adult in, like, a few months, so it’s not a big thing.”
