Before we walked in, he stopped and turned to me. “I had a talk with her. Just don’t piss her off, and we’ll be fine.”
“Thanks?” I said, more of a question than an actual thanks.
He winked at me before heading into the kitchen. My mother was already at the table, waiting for us. A dish full of meatloaf sat in the center of the table.
I dragged Amelia’s high chair over to the table between my chair and my dad’s. He fastened her in as I grabbed two containers of baby food out of the cabinet.
“Chicken and peas, kiddo,” I said as I sat down and opened the jars. “Eat up.”
I tried not to wrinkle my nose at the smell as I started feeding her. Apparently, it tasted better than it smelled because she gave me no fuss over eating.
My mother put a piece of meatloaf on my plate without comment before turning her attention away from me. I nibbled on it as I fed Amelia. My baby, always unaware of tension, babbled and giggled as she ate.
The kitchen was almost completely silent with Amelia as the only source of sound. I intentionally kept my gaze away from my mother, hoping that she would, in turn, leave me alone as well.
When dinner was finished, I put my plate in the sink and grabbed a wet cloth to wipe Amelia’s face and hands. Satisfied with my work, I set her free from her high chair. She crawled across the kitchen floor and out into the hallway. My father followed behind her.
I started to go with them, but I heard my mother’s loud huff behind me. I stopped, wondering if it would be worth it to stop or if I should keep going. Either way, she was going to be pissed. If I delayed, it would be worse.
Decision made, I turned to face her. “Did you say something?”
She glared at me. “You’re not going to live here without helping out. I cooked dinner, so it’s your responsibility to do the dishes.”
“That’s fine. I can do them,” I said, not wanting to start an argument. Besides, I really didn’t mind helping out around the house.
“Good, and while we’re on the subject, you’re responsible for your and Amelia’s laundry. I’m not your maid.”
“Okay.” I walked past her to the sink.
My parents hadn’t moved into the twenty-first century yet, so they didn’t have a dishwasher. I turned the faucet on and started filling the sink with warm water and soap. I could feel my mother standing behind me, watching my every move. I ignored her as I started scrubbing plates.
After a few minutes, she finally gave up and walked away.
I had no doubt that my stay here would be pure hell.
I made it out of the house the next day without seeing my mother. My dad had beaten me to work, like normal. When I walked in, he was standing at the counter, staring off into space.
“Morning, Dad,” I said as I walked by him.
He jumped, as if startled. “Morning, Caley. I didn’t see you come in.”
I laughed as I put my purse under the counter. “I walked right in front of you. Were you lost in your head again?”
“Aren’t I always?” he mumbled before heading back to the coffee pot. “Did you talk to your mother this morning?”
“Nope.” I started turning on the computers.
“I forgot how tense things had been with you two before you left home.” He returned to the counter.
“Well, I didn’t. I knew she’d be like this.” I shrugged, as if it were no big deal, but we both knew her attitude had hurt me more than once over the years. “I’ll be out of her hair soon enough. I’ll start looking this week for cheap places to stay.”
My dad shook his head. “Don’t rush because of her. You’re going through enough right now. Don’t add more stress to your plate.”
I simply nodded, unsure of what else to say. My dad patted me on the shoulder before heading back to his office. I watched him go, wondering just how much my decision was bothering him.
My dad had always been one to let me make my own choices, rarely giving me his opinion. He had one hell of a poker face. I could never read him. But the way he’d looked when I walked in…well, that bothered me. I had a sinking feeling that my life choices were causing him stress, something he already had enough of.
I sighed. There was nothing I could say to reassure him that I would be okay. The only thing I could do was pretend to be okay with the way things were, even when I felt like falling apart. Maybe if he saw that I was handling things well, he wouldn’t worry as much.
The morning went by at a snail’s pace. I had a few customers but not enough to keep my mind occupied.
Instead, my thoughts turned to Joey. He had been so angry with me, not that I could blame him, but his anger wouldn’t help either of us. I wanted a divorce. How could we work together to settle everything if he hated me? The honest answer was, we couldn’t. I needed to talk to him, make him understand that separating was the best choice for both of us.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and sent him a text.
We need to talk about all of this, Joey. Can you call me when you get a chance, please?
If I’d expected a response right away, I was sorely disappointed. I stared at my phone for a few minutes, willing it to show Joey’s name. When it didn’t, I finally gave up and put it back into my pocket.
All morning and afternoon, I checked my phone every once in a while to see if he’d responded. Each time, disappointment filled me. It wasn’t until a few minutes before three that I finally got a response. It wasn’t one that I’d wanted.
Go fuck yourself.
“Well, we’re off to a good start,” I muttered under my breath.
We need to talk. You know we do. Put aside your anger for five minutes, and talk with me. You’re not only making this harder on us, but you’re making it harder for Amelia, too.
I looked up when the front door opened. Ethan walked in, his eyes instantly meeting mine. I gave him a weak smile, one he didn’t return, as he walked behind the counter.
“Hi,” I said a little too cheerfully, trying to sound like nothing had occurred between us.
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he pulled me into his arms and hugged me hard. Shocked, I froze for a moment before hugging him back.
“Hi,” he finally said as we pulled away from each other. “You had me worried yesterday when I didn’t hear from you.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I was dealing with Joey and then my mom. Things didn’t go well with either of them.”
He glanced back at my dad’s office door. “What did your dad say?”
I shrugged. “He just wants me to be happy. I don’t think this came as much of a shock to him. He’s with me every single day, and he knows how miserable I’ve been. He’s even going to help me find an apartment, so I don’t have to stay with them for long. My mom and I would kill each other if we had to be together for more than a few weeks.”
He frowned. “You get shit on, no matter what you do or where you go.”
“Life’s funny like that, I guess.” I shrugged again. “One day, all of this will be a distant memory. I just have to keep remembering that.”
“You’re right.” He paused. “How bad was Joey?”
“Bad. He kicked me out of our apartment and called me a bad name, not that I’d expected anything less. I haven’t talked to him since yesterday when I went home. I texted him earlier today, but he’s not in the best of moods with me.” I showed him my phone, which still had the texts from Joey on the screen.
“He’s a fucking prick.” Ethan growled. “He has no right to speak to you like that just because you got tired of his bullshit.”