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FRIDAY AFTERNOON
There aredays where I really miss being married. I miss the closeness, the intimacy that builds up knowing someone so closely you know what they look like when they brush their teeth. The inside jokes that don’t even need words, just a shared glance across a crowded room that have you both laughing til you’re crying.
And yes, the sex.
The sex with my ex-wife was never the problem. Even in the dying years of our marriage, in amongst the petty arguments and microaggressions, we still fucked regularly. Maybe hating each other even made the sex hotter?
That’s messed up, right?
Coming home to an empty house every night, that sucks too. The silence gets to me sometimes. Lying in an empty bed is the pits. And on those nights where you’ve jerked off to yet more porn, and you feel like a washed-up loser, you can’t help but question whether or not becoming single was the worst decision of your life.
But right now, watching my ex-wife fuss and fume over the trunk of her car, stacking suitcases and holding out an irritatedhand the second I move anywhere near close enough to help, I’m reminded that maybe being divorced isn’t all that bad.
“Theo, stop infantilizing me. I have got this, mygod,” Mella snaps, and I lean back against the door of my house with a shrug.
“No one’s infantilizing you, we’re just trying to help,” I say, and meet my daughter’s eyes. Laurie rolls them obligingly, her manicured fingers gripping the top of the car door as she hovers, waiting for her mother to finish packing so they can leave.
“Mom, just put some on the back seat,” Laurie says, and Mella throws back her head with a flash of shiny black hair.
“And you’re just as bad ashim.” That accusatory finger darts in my direction again.
“Well, she is right,” I say, pointing to the suitcases that will not bend to my ex-wife’s whim no matter how much she punches and prods. “It’s not like anyone’s sitting in the back.”
Mella’s face flushes red, and she pushes her hair from her brow, which is sweaty despite the cool fall breeze that’s sprung up.
“I am actually picking someone up in Vermont, if you must know.” She inhales heavily through her nose and fixes me with her big blue eyes. “I’m taking him to meet my parents this weekend.”
Ah. That explains the mood.
Laurie’s gaze flashes to mine with mild alarm, but I simply smile and shrug.
“Mella, for the love of all things holy, let me pack the damn trunk before you’re forced to meet your new beau with chipped nails.” I give her a warm smile, the one that always had her grinning and blushing when we were together, and even now, as she’s tense and anxious, her shoulders relax and her jaw visibly unclenches. With a sigh and a wave of her hand, she gestures to the trunk.
“Fine. You were always better at these things than me.” She stands back, crossing her arms over her chest, watching critically as I shift the suitcases, turning them so they’re all standing side-on.
“The trunk will never close like-” Mella’s critical gaze drops as I close the trunk with a loud thud. “That.” She exhales heavily, then quickly fixes her face with a smile. “Thank you.”
“Any time.” I stand back, tucking my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “Now, you better hit the road or you’ll get caught in all that traffic.”
“Traffic?” Laurie asks, wrinkling her nose. “Why would there be traffic?”
“Fall colors, peanut.” I gesture at the surrounding trees, brilliant red and gold leaves swishing softly in the breeze. “There’ll be tourists everywhere.”
“Great.” Laurie grimaces, then quickly leaves her place by the car to wrap me in one last hug. “You sure you’ll be OK? I feel bad leaving when I just got home.”
“I’ll be fine.” I run a hand over her blonde hair, and kiss her forehead. “I’ll see you when you get back next week. Your grandparents will be dying to hear all about how you’re doing at college.”
“Alright. But next week when I get back, it’s you, me and apple pie at Stanton’s.”
I laugh and nod. “It’s a date.”
Laurie presses another quick kiss to my cheek,heading back to the car and throwing me a wave before dropping into her seat.
Mella turns to me with an uncertain look, tucking her shoulder-length hair behind her ear. “I feel bad that I’m taking her away from you.”
“You’re not taking her away, she’s been dying to go see your parents.”
