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“Not really.” Another hesitation. “Well, I guess you could call it that.”
“You have a date,” Maggie repeats, trying to remain calm. “You don’t think it’s a little early to be seeing someone? Unless, of course, you started seeing her before we separated…”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You know I would never do that.”
“I never thought you’d leave,” she says, which silences him. “Is it serious?”
“No. It’s just someone at work.”
“Someone at work.” Maggie does a quick mental scan of her husband’s co-workers. “Who?”
“What difference…? One of the sales reps,” he says, his face acknowledging the futility of prolonging the discussion. “You don’t know her. She’s new.”
“Well, then,” Maggie says when she can’t think of anything else to say.So, that’s that.Her husband isn’t lonely. He doesn’t still love her, miss her, want to come home. She pushes herself off the floor, pocketing her gun and pushing her shoulders back as she heads toward Leo’s bedroom. Behind her, she hears Craig scrambling to his feet.
“Where are you going?”
Maggie doesn’t answer as she walks into her son’s room, opening his closet and retrieving the box with Craig’s belongings, then returning to the hall and pushing it toward his chest. “You can leave now.”
“Maggie…”
“Just take the fucking box and get out of my house.”
He doesn’t move. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”
“Really? What way would you like it?”
“You know I still care about you….”
His words slam against the side of Maggie’s brain. What do they mean? That he still loves her? That he wants to come home?
“Will you do me one favor?” he asks.
“What’s that?”
“Will you get rid of the damn gun?”
“No way,” she says.Fuck you,she thinks.
“For God’s sake, Maggie. Think about the kids….”
“Iamthinking about the kids.”
“What if it had been Leo and not me just now?”
“It wasn’t.”
“What if ithadbeen?”
An uncomfortable silence follows. If she were still teaching English literature, she would tell her students that this is what would be considered a “pregnant pause.” But then, she no longer teaches English literature. She no longer teaches anything. She is none of the things that once defined her—a confident California girl, a high school teacher, a loving wife. In her place stands this insecure imposter, a lonely woman with fear in her heart and a gun in her pocket.
“Don’t be late picking up the kids,” she says when she can find her voice.
“Maggie, please…”
“You know the way out.” She walks into her bedroom. “Enjoy the wedding,” she says, closing the door behind her.
