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“Mom…”
“Don’t worry about me, honey. Everything here is fine. Busy, like usual.”
“Did you tell Maggie about the divorce before she left for college?” I ask.
“Cassia, it’s nothing you need to concern yourself with.”
I exhale, the huff saturated with annoyance I feel guilty aiming at my mom.
Nothing I need to concern myself with, which affects my entire family. Which affects me.
She’s trying to protect me, I know.
To shield me from the ugliness of what I always viewed as a perfect relationship. An ideal marriage. A happy ending.
“Classes start tomorrow, right?” Her cheerfulness is deliberate. Forced.
I can hear the twins arguing in the background.
My mom is trying to hold everything together. I’m not going to be the one who tugs at the stray thread.
“Right. I got all my textbooks earlier. My Genetics one is about a billion pages. A little intimidating.”
My mom laughs. “You can handle it, honey. You always do well.”
That’s me.
Reliable. Dependable. Studious.
Part of me wonders what she would have said if I hadn’t corrected her about the pregnancy test. If my future had just been affected the same way Sydney’s was. Would she have been supportive? Disappointed?
“I know. God forbid I get a B.”
A beat of silence. “Cassia, that’s not what I meant. I’m always proud of you, no matter what grades you get in school.”
I exhale. “I know. I’m sorry. Just…long day.”
I’m taking everything out on my mom, which isn’t fair. She’s only one half of the equation and the only one available to direct my feelings toward.
I thought my dad working constantly was a sign of his devotion to our family. Turns out I couldn’t have been more wrong.
He might be providing financially, but that’s it. He didn’t attend one of Regan’s swim meets this summer. Wasn’t there to pick the twins up from soccer camp once. The sedan malfunctioned in July, and he said he’d look at it on one of the rare evenings he was home for dinner. It had to be towed to a mechanic.
“I’ve had a few of those myself,” my mom says. “I should go serve up dinner. I’ll talk to you soon. Okay, honey?”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
“Bye, Cassia. I love you.”
“I love you too,” I say, then hang up and toss my phone onto the bed.
Finish getting dressed and find Sydney standing at the kitchen island scrolling on her phone.
The timer for the cookies buzzes a couple of minutes later. We transfer them to a plate without bothering to let them cool, the chocolate smearing across the china in a gooey brown mess.
We settle on the couch with the cookies, plus seltzers and popcorn. The air conditioning is finally working. The living room vent is right next to me, raising goosebumps on my skin.
“What do you want to watch?” I ask, turning on the television and starting to scroll through the options. Thanks to my lack of a social life this summer, I’ve already seen all the recent releases.
