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CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Chloe had no sooner disconnected her call with Paige than her landline rang. “Hello?” she said, exchanging one phone for the other.
Silence.
“Hello? Paige? Is that you?”
Still nothing.
“Hello? Is someone there? Anybody?”
Chloe stared into the receiver, waiting for whoever was on the other end to respond, then hung up when it became clear that no one would. Probably a wrong number, she decided. Or her mother, drunk dialing.
People rarely called her landline anymore, aside from the usual assortment of scam artists looking for suckers and charities looking for donations. She should probably consider getting rid of it altogether. It was an unnecessary expense, and money would undoubtedly be an issue now. She poured herself a glass of iced tea, then sat down at the kitchen table, tea in one hand, cellphone in the other, fighting the urge to call Matt.
But she was still too upset and angry, and it was important that she have a cool head when she confronted him.
Of course, Paige had sensed something was wrong immediately. She’d have to watch that. She didn’t want to become the kind of friend who called only when there was a problem. Especially when that problem was always the same problem, when that problem had a name: Matt.
Chloe glanced at her watch, deciding to give the kids an extra few minutes of “tech time” before going upstairs and getting them ready for bed. They needed more time to calm down, and so did she. She didn’t have the stamina for another scene like the one they’d had earlier.
Josh and Sasha had spent the day with their father and had come home full of—what was the expression Paige’s father used to use?—pee and vinegar? Yes, that was it. Pee and vinegar. Funny expression, she thought, although somehow exactly right.
They’d burst through the front door at just after six, eyes wild with a combination of too much sugar and not enough rest, cheeks stained with dried chocolate and cotton candy. “What’s all this?” she’d asked, wetting her fingers and trying to wipe away the sticky pastel residue from her son’s chin.
“Daddy took us to a street fair in Somerville,” Josh explained, wriggling out of reach and waving to his father, who was watching them from behind the wheel of his car.
“It was so fun,” Sasha said, throwing both hands up, as if she was releasing fistfuls of confetti into the air.
“Why can’t Daddy come in?” Josh asked as Chloe was closing the front door.
“Daddy has stuff to do,” Chloe told him.
“Why can’t he do it here? Why won’t you let him come home?” Part questions, part accusations.
“It’s complicated, sweetie.” Chloe had hoped this would be enough to satisfy her son. She wasn’t ready to have this conversation. She was still hoping that she and Matt would be able to sit down together and decide the best way to explain the situation to the children.
“What’s ‘complicated’?” asked Sasha.
“Daddy says you won’tlethim come home, that you’re mad at him and you’re getting a divorce,” Josh said.
“What’s a divorce?” Sasha asked.
“It means Daddy can’t live here anymore,” Josh told his sister, whose eyes were already filling with tears.
“I don’t want a divorce,” Sasha cried. “I want Daddy!”
“Okay, we’re getting way ahead of ourselves,” Chloe had said, trying to keep her anger at Matt from exploding in her children’s faces. How dare he put her in this position! What was the matter with him? Yes, he’d been furious when informed she was filing for legal separation. But he’d calmed down when assured he’d have generous access to the kids. The last few days had passed without incident. There’d been no further outbursts, no more heavy-handed attempts to convince her of the error of her ways, no more threats about custody. He’d even managed to be civil, almost cordial, when he picked the children up this morning. Chloe was beginning to feel hopeful that, while a reconciliation remained highly doubtful, they might be able to successfully co-parent.
She took another sip of her tea, shaking her head at her capacity for self-delusion. Did she still honestly think there was any chance for her and Matt to get back together? What was it going to take to convince her that the man she’d married was an unrepentant womanizer, that her marriage was over, that he would never—couldnever—be the man she wanted him to be?
“I hate you!” Josh had shouted at her as he ran up the stairs, Matt’s voice weaving through his to bounce off the walls and echo throughout the small house. “Daddy’s right!” he yelled from the upstairs hallway. “You’re a bitch!”
“What did you say?” Chloe yelled back, thinking that she must have misheard.
“He said you’re a bitch,” Sasha repeated, trying to be helpful.
Chloe burst into a combination of laughter and tears.
