“That sucks,” Ethan says. “Other than that, how was your day? What happened at the meeting?”
“You guys, despite the ornery old guy”—and the divorce being final,I think, but don’t mention—“I had the best dayever,and now that I’m with my two favorite people in the world, it’s even better.”
Noah looks over and smiles at me. It’s a serene smile. A mature one, like he senses the unspoken irony in my words.
“Tell us, Mom!” Ethan barks.
“I got my own TV show. It’s all mine! I can’t believe it.”
“You did?” Ethan says. “That’s awesome.”
“Are we going to be rich now?” Noah asks.
“We’re already rich, Noah. Compared to the rest of theworld, we’re rich. And we’re rich in ways that have nothing to do with money.” My tone is authoritative.
“I know. I didn’t mean it that way. I meant like really rich,” he says.
“I feel like you’re digging a deeper and deeper hole right now,” I say to him with a laugh.
He laughs too and says, “Okay, okay.”
I pull into our driveway, get the mail, and thumb through it. The boys have already scattered. “Do your homework!” I yell from the empty kitchen.
“Okay,” they say in unison from somewhere down the hall.
After cleaning the house from top to bottom, finishing the laundry, and paying a few bills, I order a pizza and crack open a bottle of champagne. I make a to-do list for the next day. I will call Lars and grill him until he tells me everything.
I’m sitting at the breakfast bar sipping my bubbly in silence.Is this celebrating? Is this what celebrating looks like now as a divorcée?
I go through a mental list of whom I could call to come over and drink with me. I dial Alicia first.
“Hi, what’s up?” She’s curt.
“I got the show! Apple TV.”
“Are you serious? Congratulations!” she says. “I wish I could chat with you right now but I’m about to go into a deposition.”
“That’s okay, I just wanted to tell you.”
“You are a killer, babe. I knew you’d get it.”
The moment I hang up, the doorbell rings. I get the pizza from the scrawny, young delivery boy, shut the door, drag my feet to the kitchen, and throw it on the counter. “Dinner!” I yell.
Ethan walks into the kitchen. “Jeez, why are you screaming?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you guys were in the backyard,” Isay.
“Is everything all right. I mean, you’re happy, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am.”
For some reason, it feels like a lie, and he can see right through me. Noah comes in and gets a slice and takes it back to his room without saying a word to anyone. “Do you want to eat on the couch with me and watchThe Walking Dead?” I say to Ethan.
He loves that show but I’d never let them watch it—only Alex had.
“I thought—”
“It’s okay,” I say. “We’re celebrating.” I pour myself another glass of champagne and follow Ethan into the living room.
