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After spotting Colby at my audition yesterday, I’d been through the gauntlet of emotions. Clearly, he hadn’t wished to be seen. I’d gone from hoping he’d missed me to thinking he’d only come to satisfy his guilt over ending things. Or maybe he’d wanted to be there as the friend he’d always been. I sighed heavily, deciding that friendship may be the key to dealing positively with the baptism this weekend.
Worrying that he might try to avoid me and therefore be tempted to miss his niece’s baptism, I dialed his number while in the back of the cab on the way from the airport to my parents’ house, nervous that he’d pick up, then disappointed when he didn’t. Deciding a message may be better, after all, I cleared my voice, waiting for the beep.
“Hey, it’s me, Kenzie. I had my audition yesterday, but I suppose you already knew that.” Shit I hadn’t meant to bring that up over the phone.
“I, um, wanted to talk to you before the baptism. I’m hoping you’re okay with me being there, but if you’re not, then obviously you should be the one to go, as Abigail is your niece. But I thought maybe we could at least return to being friends, you know, before the sex.” I winced, not having meant to mention our physical relationship. Double shit.
“I didn’t mean to say that. I mean, obviously you remember being friends before that happened, and I guess that’s the part I miss the most. Not that I don’t miss the sex, too. Jesus, I’ve now said sex twice—well, three times now—in a message to see if we can be friends. Um, anyhow, I’m heading home to talk to my mom about not going to business school, so wish me luck or, at the very least, a good glass of whiskey after.” Great, now I was rambling. “Uh, I’m here. I’ll talk to you later I guess.”
The taxi pulled up in front of my house, and I hung up before I realized I should’ve waited to see if there was an option to erase and re-record. Then again who was I kidding? The next version probably would’ve been an even bigger train wreck. Besides, I had a more pressing issue to deal with at the moment.
* * *
Dinnerwith my parents was a quiet affair, and unfortunately, manners dictated that I not ruin the meal with my agenda. So when my father started talking before it was over, I was surprised.
“McKenzie, your mother and I have something we need to speak with you about.” He sounded resigned, as if he was about to fire an employee and was trying to let me down easy.
I glanced over toward my mom’s pained face and realized quickly that my dad was going to do most of the talking.
“There’s really no good way to say this: Your mother and I are separating.”
My eyes widened. Although he’d hinted that things weren’t going well in our last phone conversation, I was still stunned. My mother sat there quietly, the only evidence of her discomfort was the slight flush creeping up her neck.
“As in divorcing?”
He nodded, barely looking at my mom. “Virginia law requires we’re separated for one year before we can file, but yes, that’s ultimately what it means.”
My mother finally broke her silence. “The house, of course, remains with me, and you can live here for at least the first year of grad school. I spoke to Cecilia Bennett from church, and she said her husband commutes into Georgetown daily in a van pool that has room for one more.”
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wasn’t this the point where most parents would tell their kids that they still loved them despite the split? But nope, not my mom. She went straight into logistics. I could only hope it was her coping mechanism. “Can we back up a minute? Have you told Brian or Ben?”
My mother sighed. “Ben knows because I told Rebecca. Brian isn’t talking to me after he told me he got engaged, and I voiced my opinion on the matter.”
Huh, well, that was news. I hadn’t known Brian and Mom weren’t speaking.
“I plan on telling Brian this weekend,” my dad inserted. He might not be my brother’s biological father but, he’d been in Brian’s life for the last twenty-three years and obviously had affection for him.
“Your property manager told me you moved out and turned in the keys. The next order of business will be getting your things relocated out here,” my mom went on, ignoring the talk of divorce or my feelings on the matter.
Only a few weeks ago, I would’ve swallowed it down, figuring now certainly wasn’t the time to bring up anything that might upset her further, but I didn’t have it in me any more to perpetuate the lie. “I’m not moving home.”
“We’ll have to figure out if it’s better to ship your car or sell it out there and just get you another one.”
Unbelievable. She continued to purposefully ignore what I had to say. This time I said it louder. “I’m not moving home, Mother.”
She finally looked up. “How can you say that, knowing your father is leaving and I’ll be all alone?”
Realization dawned that her panic this entire time to have me come home was because of the impending divorce. My features softened, as did my tone. “I’m sorry, and I’m sad that you’re splitting up, but it doesn’t change my decision.”
“We won’t fund you living out in LA, McKenzie.” Her tone was sharp even if her eyes were watery.
My father cut in. “You may not, but I certainly would. Matter of fact, I offered. But, she’s already turned me down, intending to do it on her own.”
“You told her about us already?” she asked, turning toward him and clearly upset.
“No. I simply stated that we’re not on the same page when it came to cutting her off. She will remain on my medical insurance and cell phone plan. Then, if she needs any other financial assistance, she can ask me directly.”
Her lips pressed together in a firm, irritated line. “I see. What’s your grand plan, then, McKenzie?”
