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“Thank you for making it.”
Another new development from her—she thanks me for everything. Thank you for taking Amelie to school. Thank you for doing the laundry. Thank you for leaving a light on for me at night. Her kindness is what made me fall in love with her in the first place and only disappeared a year ago. I wonder what happened that turned her against me and made her jaded toward our relationship. I’ve spent a few nights staring at the ceiling trying to rack my brain, searching for any incidents, but come up blank each time. Everything seems gradual. Like we both stopped trying somewhere along the way because we fell into a routine. I never stopped loving her but maybe I stopped telling her or showing her. I can’t remember the last time I took her out on a date or did something romantic for her.
Fuck.
Aubrey makes herself eggs and brings the plate over, along with a mug of coffee, to the table and sits next to me, not across from me. I’m slouching and trying to adjust without calling attention to myself, but the chair is rickety, as is the table, and I end up jostling it enough that her coffee spills over the edge. I’m out of my seat before she can say anything.
“I’ll take care of the spill,” I tell her. I’m back with the pot and a towel to clean up the mess I created because she makes me feel awkward. It’s like we’re dating all over again and haven’t been together for the past twenty years. “Sorry about that.”
“Accidents happen.”
After taking the wet towel to the sink, I rinse it out and set it on the side to dry. “What time are you going to work today?” Normally, she’s gone by six in the morning, if not earlier.
“A little later,” she tells me. “Jacoba had to take Hanneli to the doctors this morning and I didn’t want to ask you to drive me out there.” Jacoba is the other nurse Aubrey works with. She lives down the road from us and her daughter, Hanneli, often plays with Amelie after school.
“Is Hanneli okay?” Immediately, I wonder if I should’ve noticed something when I saw her the other day.
“Yes, as far as I’m aware.”
“That’s good.” Guilt weighs heavily on me about being here and not working, and also being here and not in Beaumont. Amelie isn’t adjusting well and has gotten into trouble at school. Ideally, Talisa would be the one to pick her up, but the one time we tried that, Amelie threw a fit and I had to get her anyway. It seems to me my daughter is doing everything she can to keep me here.
“We need to talk about me heading back to Beaumont,” I say to Aubrey. She looks up from her eggs, in mid-bite and stops chewing for a second. “I know things are going well, but we need to think about our son. I was supposed to be back by New Year’s, and then it was another two weeks, then the end of January. We’re now almost to the end of February. It’s going to be spring break soon.”
“But—”
I hold my hand up. “I know, your schedule is wonky, and Amelie is . . . well for a lack of better words, being a troublemaker. Which I absolutely don’t like, Aubrey. She’s acting out because of the situation, and we shouldn’t tolerate it.”
“What situation?”
I do everything I can not to be sarcastic or raise my voice.What situation? I must be the only one living in reality while Aubrey floats from cloud to cloud in Lalaland.
“Oursituation.” I emphasize the situation because I really don’t know where we stand on the whole divorce thing. She hasn’t brought it up since we arrived and I definitely haven’t pushed the issue, despite my attorney calling to see if I’ve received the papers he emailed. I have and I don’t like them. Ashford v. Ashford—dissolution of marriage—really hits you right in the gut when you read those words.
Aubrey puts her fork down and takes a sip of her coffee. And then another sip. She holds the mug in her hands, and I wonder if she’s going to hurl the ceramic object at my head because I’m not exactly being forthcoming with her.
“I don’t understand why you want to go back to the States, Nick. In the time we’ve been here, things have been good.”
Except they’re not.
“Our son is there, Aubs. And I know you’re tired of hearing this, but we can’t take him out of school. He’s doing well and has a bright future ahead of him. Imagine if we did and he struggles like Amelie. She’s miserable and acting out, which isn’t good for her. Or us. We have to discipline her for a situation we put her in. That’s shitty parenting. You promised her this really cool life, when in reality, what you’re doing is dangerous and not safe for her. How would you feel if she had seen the girl her age you had to treat and lost? Those are horrors I’d like to keep out of her life for as long as possible.”
“The schools in the states aren’t much safer.”
“I’m not talking about the schools. I’m talking about how hard the adjustment has been for her. If you tell me she needs her mother, and her mother wants to live here, then you need to be home for her, every night. You can’t depend on Talisa to raise Amelie.”
“I’m not,” she says quietly.
With some hesitation, I place my hand over hers, expecting her to pull it out from under mine. She doesn’t and a smidge of hope surges. “I need—” I’m cut off by my phone ringing. I glance down at the screen and frown at the unknown number.
“Nick Ashford?”
“Nick. Kirk. How are you?”
“Fine.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh, DeBartolo hears me and grasps my annoyance with him.
“I ran into Aubrey the other day. She says you’re still in town.”
Funny, Aubrey doesn’t want to look at me right now.
