“Slide!” Dani screams.
Ethan slides just as the third baseman is jumping for the ball. It’s overthrown. The coach is yelling to Ethan, “Get up! Go! Go! Go!”
He gets up and runs for home plate. It’s going to be close. He dives, and he’s safe, just barely. We are jumping up and down, screaming. Ethan just won the game with an inside-the-park home run. Dani and I head over to the dugout. Everyone is going crazy, hugging and celebrating. Things feel normal. Great, even.
I don’t think I’ve seen Ethan more elated in his life. He can’t stop smiling. Noah is also happier than I’ve seen him in a long time.
Everyone congratulates Ethan. The coach declares him the MVP of the game and the boys start gathering their stuff. Daniis mingling with the other moms. I’m waiting for them to head to the parking lot when I realize I’m going to a different place. I don’t need to wait.
Dani looks up at me from about twenty feet away. I walk over toward her and she says, “It’s gonna be a while. The coach wants to work on something with Ethan and another kid.”
“Okay,” I say. I don’t know what to do with myself.
I go over to the boys and hug and congratulate them again. “I’m going to the apartment, guys,” I say.
“We know,” Noah says. “We’ll see you in a few days.” They’re acting like it’s no big deal. I shouldn’t want them to care, but it feels so strange to leave the baseball field alone…again. They all seem adjusted, but I don’t feel used to this at all.
“Okay, love you guys,” I say and turn to leave. I’m walking by Dani, who is swept up in a conversation with two other moms. “Bye, Dani.”
She looks up, nods, then throws up a half-assed wave, so I wave back and head for my car.
“Alex, wait a sec!” Dani jogs toward me. She reaches into her back pocket and hands me a business card. It’s Valeria’s. My stomach drops. I feel dizzy. Very quietly and calmly, Dani says, “This fell out of the laundry basket. Not at the apartment, okay?” She’s wearing a small, tight smile. Her eyes look almost sympathetic.
I’m speechless. I start fumbling for words. I would feel terrible if I hurt her this way, but I don’t think I did. I have been plenty mad at Dani, but I’ve never been maliciously careless. The weird thing is that she doesn’t seem pissed or sad, it’s like she…feels nothing about it. “Listen, I—” She shakes her head as if to indicate that I don’t need to respond.
I flip the card over and read,Call me, Alex. I had a great time tonight.
Oh my god, this looks so bad.“Dani…nothing—”
“It’s fine,” she says, shaking her head minutely. She’s preoccupied, looking over her shoulder like she wants to get back to her conversation.
She starts to turn toward the moms. “Dani, listen to me.” I grab her arm. She looks down at my hand like I’m a stranger. “I met her at Commerce and G. She’s a friend of Brian’s. I was with him…we all talked at the bar. She gave me her card at the restaurant. It was just friendly.”
An enigmatic Dani is staring at me now. She blinks a couple of times like she’s internally deciphering my thoughts…my lies. “Alex…” she says. She’s stoic. “Not at the apartment, okay? It’s gross, and if for no other reason, it’s confusing to the neighbors. You can afford a hotel.”
I feel so stupid in this moment. Candy must have told her. God, Dani has a way of making me feel like the biggest moron on the planet. “I didn’t sleep with her,” I whisper, but it’s loud enough for the other women to hear. They all turn and look atus.
“I gotta go. I was in the middle of talking to Lisa. I’m being rude. We’ll get separate places eventually, but for now, let’s just have some respect for each other. See you Sunday.” She turns on her heel and walks away. She wasn’t even angry.
I’m standing there with my hands at my sides, stupefied. I must look like an ape. Why isn’t she mad? It’s like she doesn’t even care. Maybe she doesn’t.
Driving to the apartment feels like a dream. I’m running a million scenarios in my head. I wonder what Dani is thinking and I just want to tell her over and over that Valeria and I didn’t sleep together, but why do I feel the need to do that? We’re divorced. It’s none of Dani’s business. I feel bad that she foundthe card, and that she had to explain things to Candy, but something like this was eventually going to happen.
For a few minutes I walk around the apartment in circles. My hands feel numb. Every thirty seconds I look at my text messages. I’m waiting for something. Dani’s wrath, maybe? Nothing happens.
There’s a welling mass in my chest so I sit on the couch to catch my breath. All the windows and curtains are open…it’s the one benefit of having a second-story apartment. There’s aserene breeze moving across the living room and into the darkbedroom. I haven’t turned on any lights. The ambient lightis disintegrating by the moment. It’s hard to see the detailsof things in the room, but it’s not completely dark. I notice how quiet the street is during this time of day. It’s magic hour, which is actually much shorter than an hour. It’s that twenty minutes after the sun has dipped below the horizon, but before the sky has darkened. The glow left over is fading, but it’s enough to still give the apartment a peaceful contexture. I’m calming down.
What had felt like a witching hour has mollified. The tone in the room is a combination of surrender and exhaustion and the peace one feels in that. I fall asleep with my head resting on theback of the couch.
When I wake an hour later, it’s dark outside, and in the apartment as well. The one outdoor light on the walkway below is giving off a small orange glow that’s just enough to guide my way to the kitchen light switch.
I flip on the lights. It’s nine-thirty. I’m tired, but I know I won’t be able to go back to sleep for a while. It’s still eerily quiet and I’m hungry. These are the moments when loneliness starts to seep in. This is bedtime for the boys. If we were still together,Dani and I would be finishing up dishes, getting the kids situated, reading before heading to bed.
There are four books on the shelf in the apartment. Two John Irvings,A Son of the Circusand, my personal favorite,The Fourth Hand. There’s one long, boring Salman Rushdie,The Ground Beneath Her Feet,which Dani raved about for years but I could never get into it. And then a random historical romance novel,The Bronze Horseman,by Paullina Simons. This one I remembered Dani also sung praises about. I never cracked it, using the excuse that the category was too schmaltzy for me. I mocked her love of romance novels and, internally, I even degraded her as a writer because of it. Looking back now, it seems infantile that I would dismiss an entire genre when I couldn’t even muscle through a Rushdie.
That’s the thing: Dani read every type of book, listened to every kind of music, and appreciated every difference in every human being she came across. I used to wish I was more like her…more receptive and loving. It’s hard to see that in her anymore though. That side of Dani has been replaced by a malevolent dictator.Dictatormight be a little harsh, actually. I pick upThe Bronze Horsemanand set it on the couch-back table to remind myself to give it a go. I need to open myself up to the world more.
After heating up a chicken dish Dani had left in the refrigerator, I take my plate back into the living room, sit down, and start eating. I’m getting used to this weird routine of reheating and eating her old food. I wonder if she knows I’m eating it and not just tossing it out.
