My phone is buzzing in my pocket. It’s Alicia.
“Hello?”
“I’m on my way to the salon. Are you there yet?”
“No, I’ll leave in a minute.” I had lost time. Floating around in a dream of what used to be.
“Is that Mazzy Star I hear playing in the background?”
I laugh. “Yes.”
“Why?” she said.
“I love this album,” I whine.
“You’re such a dork. Meet me there in ten.”
“Bye.”
As I’m walking out, I glance at my laptop screen on the desk. There is a Facebook notification. I look closer. It’s just a reminder of an old high school friend’s birthday. After wishing her a happy birthday, I decide to typeJacob Powellinto the search bar for some reason I can’t explain. His profile immediately pops up. Even though I know I’m running late, I can’t help myself. He looks exactly the same. Jacob was my longest relationship before Alex and it was only a year, my freshman year in college. He had actually, legitimately broken my young, tender heart. Jacob was just one of those people who couldn’t be pinned down, but he was so much fun and unbelievably sexy. When we were together, he made me feel amazing, but he was too wild. I wanted him in my life forever, but relationship commitment was just not in his DNA. And we were so young.
His profile says he’s single, of course. Then something catches my eye: We have two mutual “friends,” Alicia and Mark. Alicia had definitely met Jacob a few times while he and I were dating many years ago, but Mark never did.Why are they Facebook friends?
I change my status from married to single and then immediately go back and try to return my status to married, but it won’t let me. The computer is frozen, displaying an endless spinning pinwheel. “Ugh.” I don’t know why I did it to begin with. Frustrated, I shut it down and grab my purse to leave for the salon. I make a mental note to ask Alicia why she and Mark are friends with Jacob on Facebook. Then I wonder if this moment officially marks the beginning of my divorcée status.
11
you don’t have to say it
Alexander
Through this whole separation process, every couple of days I get a wave of emotion that I don’t know what to do with. It’s fear. It’s like my stomach drops to the ground, I start shaking, my brain turns to mush, and the only thing I can think to do is go for a run. But I’m on kid duty now so I can’t go charging for the hills. Dani would hate that I’m thinking of this single parenting thing as a chore. I’m really not, I’m just not used to it. What is this new life I’m supposed to live? The unknown is giving me unrelenting anxiety.
Some single friends I know act like being single is a personality trait. Maybe I even used to think that. There are relationship people and then there are the people who can’t be tied down. Now where do I fall?
Am I really still folding clothes?
Noah walks past the doorway. “Are we going to dinner?”
“Yeah, give me ten minutes,” I tell him.
“I’m starving.”
I turn around and glare at him. “Go jump on the trampoline.”
“We haven’t jumped on that thing in forever,” he says.
“Why?”
From the other room Ethan answers, “Mom said not to! She said the gardeners messed it up or something.”
Why didn’t she tell me?I walk to the window of Dani’s bedroom…our bedroom…and look out into the backyard. “It’s fine!” I say, irritated. “I can’t believe I’m still doing laundry!” I yell. “Give me ten minutes. Go jump and let me finish this up.”
Noah shrugs. “Okay. Yeah, Mom always complains about the laundry too.”
“You guys should be doing your own laundry,” I snap back.
“She says that too.”
