Terry held his phone to his ear, jaw clenched as Patricia's voice took on the familiar tone that meant she was about to blow up his plans.
"I can't take them this weekend. I’m sorry.”
Direct. Barest apology. That was Patricia.
"What do you mean you can't take them?" Terry kept his voice low, determined not to blow a gasket. "My conference in DC is tomorrow. My once-a-year conference that has been on the calendar for months,” he reiterates. “Why is your job taking precedence over mine?”
"I know the timing sucks, but my boss just called. Emergency trip to Seattle. Big client threatening to walk."
Terry closed his eyes. He’d planned for the three days of presentations and networking in DC that could shape his department's future. More importantly, he'd been asked to present on running a drug task force in rural areas. But he wouldn’t argue about his job coming in second to hers. It was about the kids.
"Patricia, this isn't just about me. The kids have been looking forward to seeing you."
A pause. He could hear airport noise in the background.
"I know they have." Her voice softened slightly. "You think I don't hate disappointing them?"
The crack in her professional facade surprised him. Patricia rarely let her guard down about her choices.
"Then don't disappoint them."
"It's not that simple, Terry. This client represents 30 percent of our West Coast revenue. If we lose them..."
"Your kids shouldn't have to compete with your job."
Silence stretched between them. Terry heard her exhale, the sound carrying years of this same argument.
"You know what I am," she said quietly. "I've never pretended to be the stay-at-home mom type. I thought we were past this."
Terry looked through the kitchen window at Emma and Toby playing basketball. Emma cheered when Toby made a shot. They still believed their mom would show up.
"We are past it. But that doesn't make it easier when you cancel on them."
"I'll make it up to them. Maybe next weekend?—"
"There is no next weekend, Patricia. This was their weekend with you."
Another pause. When she spoke again, her voice had returned to business mode.
"Look, I have to board. My flight's leaving." She paused a beat. "I'm sorry, Terry. I really am."
The call was disconnected. Terry stared at his phone, fighting the urge to throw it across the room. Instead, he set it carefully on the counter and walked to the window. Patricia wasn't evil. She genuinely loved Emma and Toby in her own way. But love and priority were different things, and her kids would always come second to her career.
He'd accepted that years ago. What still got to him was watching Emma's face fall every time her mom changed plans,seeing Toby's shoulders slump when another promise got broken.
His phone buzzed. Sandra's name was on the screen.
When will Patricia pick up the kids?
Terry typed back.She canceled. Work emergency in Seattle.
The phone rang immediately. "Are you kidding me?" Sandra's voice was tight with anger. "She canceled today?"
"Big client crisis. She's already at the airport."
"Terry, I'm so sorry." Sandra's anger shifted to concern. "What are you going to do about the conference?"
"Try to find someone to watch them." Terry scrubbed his hand over his face. "I can't miss this presentation."
