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“I gave her a pretty dress.” She spoons the last marshmallow and reaches for the box.
I snag it and point at the bowl, and her shoulders deflate. “Why is she upset?”
She glances over her shoulder and looks at the picture as if she doesn’t remember drawing it in the first place. “Because you’re with Mommy,” she says matter-of-factly.
“Why would that upset her?”
She finally looks up from her cereal with a serious face. “She looks like that every time we’re with Mommy.”
My stomach pitches, and I open my mouth, only to close it again.
She goes back to her cereal, scooping up the cereal and milk that’s still full of sugar. But at least it’s a little more nutritious than just the marshmallows.
“No, she doesn’t,” I finally respond.
She nods. “Yes, she does.”
I retrace my memory to all the times they’ve had to interact, and yes, it’s awkward, but Theresa just seems uncomfortable, not mad. “I’ve never noticed that.”
She nods and finishes off her cereal. “Can I watch TV until we leave?”
I start to nod but stop. “Wait. Do you like Theresa?” There. The question is out there.
She stares at me so long that I’m not sure what she’s going to say. “Yeah, but I like Mommy more.”
“Well, of course.”
Then she frowns. “She’s not going to be my new mommy, right?”
I blink and blink again. “No.” I shake my head. “Mommy will always be your mommy, nothing changes that.”
She sits back in her chair. “Why don’t you and Mommy sleep together?”
My heart rate spikes, and my breath comes out unsteady. Why is she asking this? I look behind me, hoping Palmer might surprise us this morning, but her car is already gone. I’m trying to convince myself she’s not having breakfast with Matt.
Palmer is a creature of habit, and she loves her house. There have been weeks where she’s been writing, and I’m not sure she’s left, having food delivered to her. She came home late last night and now is gone early this morning. I don’t understand why the change in her behavior.
“Daddy,” Adley says. “Holden said he went into his mommy and daddy’s bedroom because he had a nightmare, and they sleep in the same bed.”
“Yeah, some mommies and daddies do.”
“I told him my mommy and daddy don’t sleep in the same house. He laughed at me.”
My shoulders sag. Fuck a duck, there is no way we’re here already.
“Marcy asked if you were divorced. What’s divorced?”
I look out the window to make sure Palmer hasn’t returned. Where is she when I need her? “We’re not divorced. You have to be married to be divorced.”
“Huh?” She tilts her cute little face to the side.
“Some mommies and daddies get married and then…”
Her innocent blue eyes stare up at me as though I hold all the knowledge in the world, and it’s scary as shit. “Then what?”
“Well, they don’t want to be married anymore.”
Her forehead scrunches. “Why?”
