Chapter one
“WhathappensifItake out my heart and put it in a robot?”
I wound an arm around my six-year-old daughter Adelaine’s shoulders and pulled her close.“It would still be a robot.And you’d be without a heart.”
She pursed her lips, mulling over what I’d said.I opened the car door for her, adjusting Elana, my four-year-old daughter, on my hip.
“Why are you not allowed to look directly into a light?”
Adelaine was now in her booster seat, wrangling with her seat belt.I closed her door, walking around to the other side before answering.“It’s bad for your eyes.”
She pushed the belt down with enthusiasm, then turned to where I was buckling Elana in.“Why?”
“It’s too bright.If you do, you’ll see black spots.”
I knew my answer lacked substance, but I’d never figured out why you weren’t supposed to look directly into a light.Something I vowed to look up tonight if I didn’t fall asleep before I had a chance to.
I’d thought I knew what exhaustion was when my daughters were babies and refused to sleep for more than an hour at a time.But the bone-deep exhaustion I’d been feeling for the past few months trumped that by a long shot.Guess that happened when your husband—henceforth known as Cockalorum—left you for someone fifteen years younger.Technically, I was the one asking for a divorce, but so far, it had only been a formality.I hadn’t actually had a chance to get the legal ball rolling yet.
After I made sure my girls were safely inside the car, I settled into my own seat.
“Why do I only have two legs?”Adelaine continued her questions.
I pulled out of the driveway of the house I’d lived in for the last six years.Since I couldn’t afford the mortgage payments on my own, I had to sell it.Something that had hurt more than Cockalorum moving out.
I’d signed a lease on a one-bedroom apartment in town, and we were moving next month.
Briefly glancing at my daughter in the rearview mirror, I pushed away the negative thoughts taking over my brain.“Because you’re a human.And we only have two legs.”
Adelaine mulled it over, then nodded.“I guess you’re right.But I wish I had four legs.Then I could run faster and would have won the race last week.”
I bit my lip to quell the all-too-familiar sense of failure working its way through my body.I’d never been able to protect her from my husband’s cutting words.There was no doubt in my mind that Cockalorum had told her she hadn’t been fast enough.“You’re a great runner.Even Ms.Pearson said so.”
“I still wasn’t the fastest.”
And that’s what it all came down to.Cockalorum didn’t care that she was six.If she wasn’t the fastest in her class, then she wasn’t good enough.
“You’re faster than me.”
She snorted.“That’s because you’re slow like a snail.Even Elana is faster than you.”
I squeaked in fake outrage.“Take that back.”
She giggled, shaking her head.“You always say to only tell the truth.”
Pulling up outside her school, I turned back to blow her a kiss.She was in first grade and loving every minute of it.“Have a great day.Don’t forget that Linny is picking you up today.”
She rolled her eyes at me—sometimes I wondered if she was a teenager already—then waved and walked into the building.She’d always been independent, and after the first two weeks of school, she’d wanted to go inside by herself.
I turned to Elana.“You ready to go to daycare, pumpkin pants?”
She giggled at me, then turned her attention back to her book that made animal sounds.
Her drop-off took a little longer, but after a few tears and reassurances that I’d pick her up later, I was finally on my way to work.
I parked, then went to the coffee shop a few doors down from the office.The owner, Mariola, waved at me from where she was crouching in front of the cake display case, scrubbing at the already-sparkling glass.“The usual?”
Stopping at the counter, I nodded.“Yes, please.And can you add a few pieces of cake?”
