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The floor was clean. Just needed to be wiped. Marie got an old toothbrush and worked at the grout around the baseboard. You could never be too careful about grout. And once it discolored, it was nearly impossible to get like new again.
Who looked at grout that closely?
Who cared?
Except a woman who was spending Friday night alone in her apartment. Because she chose to go out with men who would let her down. Men who had other priorities in their lives, according to Gabi.
Marie wasn’t sure her friend was wrong.
But she’d seen what love did to her mother. How it took a strong, confident, smiling woman and slowly, year by year, chipped away at the smiles. At the confidence. And at the strength.
She wasn’t going to be like Barbara.
Was that her cell phone? She stopped scrubbing, sitting back on her heels as she listened. She’d left the phone on her nightstand. And yes, it was clearly ringing.
Dropping her toothbrush in the bucket of water she’d brought in with her, Marie ran. Someone was calling her.
A voice other than her own internal ones to pass time with.
Good Lord, she was losing it.
Had never expected to have such a tough time with Gabi getting married and moving upstairs.
Had never realized how much she’d jabbered to the other woman night after night after night...
“Hello?” She answered before she’d had a chance to read the caller ID.
“Hi, baby.”
Marie’s heart sank. Trekking slowly back to the bathroom, she said, “Hi, Dad,” in her cheeriest voice.
“I just got off the phone with your mother.”
At ten o’clock on Friday night? What had Barbara been thinking? Couldn’t she have waited until morning? Until the light of day?
Barbara knew better than most how awful things looked, how much more difficult they were, in the dark of the night. Marie had certainly spent enough of those dark hours with her mother through her adolescence.
“She told you her news?” Marie asked. There was no point in prevaricating. Or pretending that her heart wasn’t aching for him.
“Yeah, she told me. Bruce was there, too.”
“You know him?”
“Of course. I went to several sessions with him over the years. Always at your mother’s request.”
“You don’t sound bitter.”
“I’m not. He’s a good guy. And I’m not good for your mother.”
Wow. This was going much better than she’d figured. “So...you’re okay with them getting married?”
“No...” His voice broke. “No,” he said again. It took Marie a few seconds to identify the sound she was hearing coming over the line. Sobs.
“Daddy?” she half whispered. In all the years...all the battles and hurt and back and forth...she’d never once known her father to cry.
“I blew it...” he said, clearly crying now. “I blew it...”
“Daddy.”
