She hugs me, and Pri comes in, and we’re all chattering, talking half over each other, happy as hell. Pri orders room service, and she knows what I’m allowed to eat during raceweek, so that’s a big help. Mom and I go to the sofas near the huge windows that look out on the beach and she opens her straw carry-on and starts pulling presents out. She always brings presents, like I’m a little kid.
There’s a pair of socks with kittens on them that sayTHIS GIRL TAKES NO SHIT. There’s a Toblerone bar, which she apologizes for since she knows I can’t have sugar this week. And there’s a book, a PostSecret collection, which is a fun nostalgia trip because I used to read that blog all the time when I was younger, and she remembers.
There’s nothing quite like a mom to hold all your details sacred.
Over dinner I ask her what the big news is, and she waves it off, saying, “Oh, we have plenty of time for that.” We’re having fun,Pride and Prejudiceis playing in the background and personally I’m not nuts about sappy romance, but it’s a fave for Mom and Pri, and I concede that a young Colin Firth looks hot in a wet shirt.
Mom offers to sleep next to Pri so she doesn’t “disturb my rest,” but I know she’s probably not gonna tell me the news until we’re sitting quietly in the dark, so I ask her to bunk in my room. The bed is huge, so I tell Pri she should stay too and we’ll do a girlie sleepover.
Once we’re all settled under the sheets, me in the middle, Mom says, “Sagey, don’t be mad at me, but I’m divorcing your father.”
I blow out a relieved breath. “Oh my God, is that all? You had me worried as fuck. And frankly, it’s about time.”
“Is it because of the cheating?” Pri asks, and I flop an armto give her a smack, which she responds to with an indignant, “Ow! Jesus!” before smacking me right back.
Mom chuckles. “The cheating didn’t help. But that wasn’t the breaking point. And I’m concerned about tainting your view of your father, so don’t be too hard on him, but…” She sighs. “I’m disappointed with how he’s handled Julian’s…problem. And things came to a crossroads where our differences are now irreconcilable.”
Pri and I are both frozen at the mention of Jules. It’s silent for a half minute.
Finally Mom says, “Idoknow, girls. About his opiate dependence. There’s no shame in it. I just want to help. But your father’s been spending recklessly for years, Sage. And I don’t fault him entirely for that, aside from the fact that so much of it has been spent on other women.”
“Wait,” I interrupt, “are you guys broke?” I think back to all the art pieces that were gone last time I was at home, and how Mom said she’d sold them because she wanted to “declutter.”
“‘Broke’ is too strong. But eighty percent of the assets we had five years ago are gone.”
I cover my face with both hands. “Fuuuuuuuuck…”
“Honey, it’s not a big deal. But your brother has depleted his trust fund with travel and… well, his illness. So he asked us a month ago if we could pay for this treatment center, a place in Switzerland, very expensive but excellent success record. I said of course, but because of our financial situation, we’d have to downsize the house to fund it, which—”
“Mom! I grew up there!” I protest. “Why didn’t you just ask me to help?”
“I’m guessing youhavehelped. Right?”
There’s a pause where I make a kind of noncommittal grumbling noise.
“Last I heard from your brother,” Mom goes on, “he told me he’d found ‘a place that would take him’ and would be out of contact for a while. Then when Priya picked me up today she said Julian is ‘climbing in Switzerland,’ and… I can put two and two together, girls.”
“Sorry for lying,” Priya mumbles.
Mom reaches across me and gives Pri a pat. “It was sweet of you to protect him, honey. And me too.” She turns her head my way. “Sage?”
“Yeah, I paid for it,” I admit. “It’s fine—no big.”
She reaches to squeeze my hand. “You’re a good sister.” Her voice is rough with emotion.
“I’m not, really. And everything’s taken care of, sopleasedon’t sell the house.”
There’s a huff of bitter laughter. “Oh, we didn’t. Your father told Julian we’d do no such thing. That it was his fault he’d ‘made poor choices,’ which not only isn’t fair but is also very ‘pot calling the kettle black.’” She folds her arms with stubborn resolve. “That was it. I told Matthew, ‘For God’s sake, I’ve put up with enough, you can give me this,’ and he wouldn’t budge, so the day your brother got on a flight for Melbourne, I went to a divorce lawyer.”
I rub my face with a long groan. “Why is Dad such a dick?”
“He just doesn’t understand this issue. But he was a good father while you kids were growing up. I think he’ll come around, but that doesn’t mean I have to stick with the marriage.I’ve been unhappy for more than a decade. It’s not like I have limitless time—I’m in my mid-sixties. I’d like to… you know, maybe date and whatnot. See what’s still out there for me.”
Priya reaches across me for Mom’s hand. “Good on you.”
“Agreed,” I add, squeezing their clasped hands. “But I thought Jules didn’t tell you guys. I asked him point-blank, and he was like, ‘I don’t wanna worry Mom.’”
“Oh, Sagey,” she says in a tone of indulgent amusement, “he didn’t want to worryyou. Can’t you see that? Julian thinks the world of you, and I’m sure he figured if he told you what happened, you’d be angry with your father. He was protecting you.”
