“What do you mean?” he said warily. “How much more time?”
“I shouldn’t have let four years go by, I still can’t believe it’s been that long. I want to see her more. I do.”
“Lilah’s on an even keel right now,” he said, choosing his words. “She’s doing well in school, she has friends. I don’t want to disrupt that.” Colorado had been a whipsaw of emotion for Lilah. After four long years, her mother wanted her. Then she didn’t. It had killed him to see it. He took Lilah back to the therapist after that, but every appointment became a struggle and eventually he let it go.
Sophie shot him an offended look. “I’m not talking about disrupting anything. I’m her mother and I want to see her.”
“Today you do.” As soon as he said it, he knew he’d made a mistake. Backing Sophie into a corner never worked.
“It’s not up to you.” A tone in her voice he didn’t recognize. He was used to her apathy, at least when it came to him and Lilah. This was something new and vaguely threatening.
“No one’s saying you can’t see her,” he backpedaled. “You’re here, aren’t you? I’m just saying she’s had enough disappointment.”
“Don’t lecture me, Glenn. It didn’t work when we were married, and it won’t work now.”
He inhaled deeply. Lilah’s therapist had gently suggested he might want to talk to someone too, but he’d never done it. What was he going to do, spill his guts to a stranger?My wife left and I’m miserable.No shit.Who wouldn’t be miserable? “I just want to know what you have in mind.”
She shrugged. “I just got here. I don’t know what I have in mind. Why does everything have to be mapped out a year in advance?”
He pushed off the bed, done with her. “Because a kid needs to know her parent isn’t going to up and leave. That’s why. You have no idea what Lilah’s been through, how long she cried after you left, asking every night when you were coming back. How it’s been for her in school without a mother. You’ve never given a damn about any of it. Now she’s half-grown and it sounds fun. Sure, why not. You can go shopping or some crap like that. But what about when she’s in a mood and smarts off? Or won’t get off her phone and do her homework?” He knew he should back off, but eight years of heartache and struggle came roaring back. “Any bright ideas about parenting, Sophie? I’d love to hear them.”
“I’m sorry you’re so bitter, Glenn.” She gave him a disappointed look. “I wish for your sake you’d been able to move on.”
“Fuck you. I’m not bitter.” He glared at her from the doorway. “I’mhere. That’s what I am. I’m here.”
She regarded him calmly, which infuriated him even more. He hated that Zen crap.
“She’s on the bus at seven-thirty if you want to catch her before school,” he said as he stalked out of the room.
“That early?” She sounded slightly stunned.
“Yep. We don’t sleep all day.”
Upstairs, he stuck his head cautiously in Lilah’s room, but to his great relief she was still asleep. The only saving grace of this whole fucked up evening was that Lilah had slept through it.
...
To his surprise, Sophie got up in the morning. She floated into the kitchen a few minutes after seven in leggings and a sweatshirt, hair tucked into a sloppy knot. He still felt raw from the night before. He hadn’t been able to sleep and had a parched hungover feeling even though he hadn’t had a drop to drink. Within half an hour he’d let her get to him, and she hadn’t even been trying.
She went unerringly to the right cabinet for a coffee mug, which annoyed him. He should have moved things around so he didn’t seem so predictable. Sure, he’d painted a few walls, but eight years later she still knew where to find a mug.
“We got off to a bad start last night.” She let the coffee steam her face like some sort of spa treatment. “Can we reset?”
He took a swallow of his own coffee. “Sure.” It was still beyond strange to have her here, but at least in the light of day, he felt more in control. “Lilah should be down in a minute.”
He reached past her to set out Lilah’s Frosted Mini-Wheats and poured a glass of orange juice. Her lunch was already made. He did that the night before—a peanut butter and honey sandwich and an apple. A box of raisins. She still liked him to pack it, but he knew the time was coming when she wouldn’t. When she wouldn’t need him for much of anything.
He slid the bagged lunch into Lilah’s backpack, taking a small pleasure in doing this in front of Sophie. She knew nothing of their routine, the thousands of lunches he’d packed. The dinners he’d made, the homework he’d supervised. That heart-stoppingmoment in second grade when the school nurse called and told him Lilah had fallen off the play equipment. Thank God it had only been a broken wrist. Only a parent felt that kind of fear.Hewas the parent. Like he’d told Sophie last night,hewas here.
Motherhood had been difficult for Sophie. The baby left her tired and cranky and frustrated that she had no energy for her art. Glenn did as much as he could, rushing home from work to make dinner and bathe Lilah so Sophie could escape to her studio in the garage. He was smitten with Lilah, the baby was all he could think about, but Sophie seemed joyless.
“Give it time,” his mother had said. “It doesn’t come easy for some women.” But he could tell his mom was concerned too.
They hired a babysitter to give Sophie a break and made time for date night once a week. But she was remote, and her discontent ate at him.
“What do you want?” he asked at dinner one night. An expensive restaurant, a splurge for their fifth anniversary. Lilah a year now, pulling herself up. She’d be walking soon.
“There’s no mountains here,” Sophie said. “It’s just a wall of green. Everything looks the same.”
