I’m tucked away in the bedroom, so I don’t see Matt snatch the iPad away from Brett. “Hey! I was talking!” Brett whines.
“Hey,” he begins. “How’s it going out there?”
“Good,” Leyla says, her tone notably less exuberant. “Long days, but I’m not complaining. We’re almost done shooting. A week or two more and I think we’ll be wrapped.”
“Cool. Brett misses you. It would be good to have you back.”
Like hell it would.The words hurt, but I know Matt has to say whatever he can to get her off the phone.
“Mommy!” Brett calls out. “I’m making s’mores tonight!”
“Where is she, Matt? Let me talk to her.”
“Hey, sweetie, give me just a sec with Mom, okay? You can chat after.” Matt walks the iPad out of the house, shutting the door behind him.
I pop my head out of his bedroom, taking a chance that Matt and I are still aligned enough that he’s doing what I think he’s doing—getting Leyla off the phone.
When I’m certain the coast is clear, I say, “You ready to start watching?” and plop down on the couch. I hitplayon the movie, and a campy soundtrack fills the air, successfully diverting Brett’s attention back to the TV.
Several minutes later, Matt opens the front door and re-enters the house. I look over at him, trying to be nonchalant, ignoring what feels like palpitations beneath my ribs, raising my eyebrows to wordlessly ask if he’s okay. Munching on popcorn, Brett is fixated on the movie. Matt nods slightly, giving me the all clear. He joins us on the sofa, which jolts Brett out of her temporary screen coma. “Can I talk to Mom now?”
“Oh, I’m sorry honey, she had to go. She had some work thing to run off to. I’m sure you’ll get to talk to her again soon.”
Brett’s shoulders slump. “Did she say when she’s coming home?” she asks.
Matt shakes his head no. “Not definitively. But I’m sure it will be soon, so don’t even worry about it. Let’s just enjoy the movie.”
Brett turns back to face the screen, and Matt drapes his long arm across her little shoulders. His fingers reach my upper back and he strokes my skin gently. His touch tries to affirm that everything’s going to be okay, but I can already sense a cloud hanging over us, promising me that a storm is brewing. The bubble has popped. I recognize the feeling in the pit of my stomach, so akin to the day Aunt Lucy showed up unannounced in the camp office all those years ago.
For now, I suffocate the impending dread with the welcome distraction of Shelly Long and her troop of pre-teens. Brett tucks her feet up underneath herself and curls into my side.
As if she was mine.
From the outside looking in, we look like a family.
But we’re not.
Brett falls asleep about two thirds of the way through, so Matt shuts off the movie and carries her into her room. I peel back the covers, and he sets her down, smiling as she snuggles up into a ball like a kitten.Once she’s sufficiently settled, Matt juts his chin towards the living room. I follow behind him as he leaves the room.
Matt begins picking up the remnants of friendship bracelet materials from the couch. Without looking at me, he mumbles, “Well, that was a close one.”
“Yeah,” I agree.
“Maybe we shouldn’t wait until after my appointment tomorrow to have that talk,” he continues.
“How do you mean?”
“I feel like we almost got caught.”
I nod in agreement, exhaling. “I should probably go,” I offer.
“No,” Matt replies, looking up from his fistful of rainbow embroidery string. “Please don’t. I don’t want that,” he clarifies. “Let’s just step outside and talk on the stoop. I always worry about little ears,” he adds.
“Okay,” I agree.
He opens the door for me and closes it gently behind us. We sit side by side on the cement steps under the bare light bulb.
“I’m sorry about the Facetime thing,” Matt begins.
