Reg fished his keys from his pocket and called out another good-bye as he headed for his truck, leaving me with the woman I’d once thought I’d spend the rest of my life with.
“Is everything all right? Are the kids?—”
“They’re fine.” She fiddled with her purse strap. Yep, she was nervous. Not a good sign. “Sorry to show up like this. I was going to text you, but I was in the neighborhood visiting a friend. You remember Camille?”
“Yeah.” I crossed my arms.
“Anyway, I…” Sarah’s smile drooped as she bit her bottom lip. “Can I come in for a minute?”
I inclined my chin and motioned for her to follow me inside. “Want something to drink?”
She sat on a barstool and unbuttoned her coat but didn’t take it off. “If I didn’t have to drive those narrow roads in the dark, I’d take a beer, but alas…I’d love some water. Thank you.”
I slid a glass of water in front of her and waited.
Maintaining a polite middle ground where no one spoke their mind was one of the hardest parts about coparenting with an ex. It was unrealistic to communicate only about the kids. Our personal lives seeped in and upset boundaries all the fucking time. I noticed when she got a haircut, bought a new sweater, or changed her perfume. The sorts of things you should have immunity from with an ex.
I didn’t love her anymore, and I was glad our marriage had dissolved with a minimum of fuss. But damn it…I wished we didn’t have to do this fucking dance for the rest of our lives.
“The kids are fine and you seem fine, so…what’s up?”
Sarah drew a shaky inhale and blurted, “Frank is looking for a new job within his company. We might be moving.”
I was too stunned to speak at first. “Moving.”
She tapped her fingers against the glass. “The firm has offices around the country. Rutland is the closest, then Burlington.There’s also an opportunity in Ann Arbor and St. Paul, and…San Diego.”
“California.”
“I’ve heard great things and the change in weather would be nice. I saw that it was seventy degrees there today. In February…that’s nuts.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and licked her lips. “We haven’t made any decisions on this, but the kids have overheard a few conversations and they’re asking questions, and…I wanted you to know. That’s all.”
I let out a harsh laugh. “You wanted me to know. That’s big of you.”
“Coop…”
“No. That’s not how this works, Sarah. They’re my kids too, damn it.”
“I know. Of course I know that,” she whispered, blotting a tear at the corner of her eye. “I don’t have any details. We won’t make a decision until summertime. That’s months from now. And I won’t say anything to Ivy or Chase yet either. But…it’s good money and a good opportunity for Frank.”
“Huh.”
“Coop, no matter what happens we’ll put the kids first, same as always. I mean, there are plenty of divorced parents who live in other states and make it work and—” Sarah stopped abruptly and rebuttoned her coat. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to upset you, and I’m making a hash of this. Let’s just talk later.”
She was gone before I could form a coherent thought. The click of her heeled boots on the hardwood flooring, thethudof the heavy door closing, followed by a silence so profound it took my breath away.
My mind was reeling. I couldn’t decide if I was angry or hurt or just too blindsided to make heads or tails of things. I went with blindsided, and that didn’t help. In fact, it pissed me off…as if I should have put clues the kids had unwittingly dropped together and had a comeback ready.
But I hadn’t and?—
I reached for the glass she’d left on the island and hurled it at the wall.
Fuck!
I didn’t sleep that night. I was fired up and stressed out. And somewhere in between meeting with an important investor and running the fucking mill, I was going to have to talk to a lawyer about my rights.
Sarah’s conciliatory voice mail later that day should have calmed me.
“I’m so sorry, Coop. I fucked up last night. I should have planned my speech better or…I don’t know.” Deep sigh. “Listen, nothing is happening right away. We have time to plan and make sure everyone is happy and on the same page. And we’ll do that. I promise we’ll get this as close to right as possible. And I’ll keep you posted, so you’re in the loop—no surprises. I just…I don’t want to hurt you. You’re the best dad in the world, and those kids worship you and…”Sniff. “I’m sorry. Let’s leave this alone for now. No worrying, okay? I’ll see you at pickup on Sunday. Bye.”
