Chương 2
“Enough.”
“No,” I said.
He looked startled.
I almost never interrupted him.
“Let him answer.”
Jason’s jaw tightened.
“You tell us what to do, you check where we are, you make us clean things, you decide when people can come over.”
“Because I’m an adult who lives here.”
“It’s Dad’s house.”
Daniel’s head snapped toward him.
“What?”
Jason’s confidence faltered.
I felt mine disappear for an entirely different reason.
The house had been mine before Daniel moved into it.
I had bought it six years after my first marriage ended, with a down payment made from savings, overtime, and the sale of a tiny condo that had appreciated at exactly the right time.
Daniel contributed to household expenses after we married, but his name had never been added to the deed.
“Who told you this was Dad’s house?” I asked.
Jason’s cheeks reddened.
“Nobody.”
“Jason.”
“I just assumed.”
Alyssa had appeared at the other end of the hallway.
She wore one earbud and held the other in her fingers.
“No, you didn’t.”
Jason turned.
“Shut up.”
Alyssa looked at me, then Daniel.
Her face had gone pale.
“What does she mean?” Daniel asked.
“Nothing.”
“Alyssa.”
She pushed the loose earbud into its case.
“Mom says it.”
The house seemed to contract around us.
Daniel stopped rubbing his forehead.
“What does your mother say?”
Alyssa immediately regretted speaking.
I could see it in the way she pressed her lips together.
Jason stared at her with naked warning.
“She says Dad got the house in the divorce,” Alyssa said finally.
Daniel gave a confused laugh.
“What divorce?”
“Not your divorce with her.”
Alyssa looked at me.
“Rachel’s.”
For a moment nobody spoke.
From downstairs came the soft clatter of wooden pieces being placed on the kitchen table.
Olivia said something to Ethan that I couldn’t make out.
Daniel’s water bottle slipped slightly in his hand.
“Melissa told you I got Rachel’s house from Rachel’s divorce?”
Alyssa shrugged, but tears had already brightened her eyes.
“She said Rachel needed you more than you needed her.”
Jason swore under his breath.
“Stop talking.”
“Why?”
“Because Mom said not to.”
That silenced everyone.
Daniel put his water bottle on my desk.
“What exactly did your mother tell you not to talk about?”
Jason headed for the stairs.
Daniel caught his arm.
“Jason.”
“Get off me.”
“Answer me.”
“Dad, let go.”
Daniel released him immediately.
Jason rubbed his arm even though Daniel had barely touched it.
Alyssa began picking at the corner of her phone case.
I knew that habit.
She did it whenever she was trying not to cry.
For all the resentment I felt toward her, seeing it still triggered the old reflex in me to soften my voice.
“Alyssa, nobody is asking you to choose between your parents.”
Jason laughed bitterly.
“That’s exactly what this is.”
“No,” I said.
“Then why are you trying to make Mom look bad?”
“I haven’t said anything about your mother.”
“You don’t have to.”
Daniel stepped between us.
“Jason, go downstairs.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m telling you to.”
Jason’s face hardened.
It was almost satisfying to hear Daniel finally use the authority Jason claimed to respect.
Almost.
Then Jason looked directly at his father and said, “Mom was right about you.”
Daniel went motionless.
“What does that mean?”
Jason swallowed.
Nothing in his face looked victorious now.
“She said Rachel pays for everything because you can’t.”
Daniel’s expression changed so quickly I wished the children hadn’t been there to see it.
Humiliation has a way of making adults look younger.
“She said what?”
Jason looked toward the stairs.
“She said you pretend it’s your money so Rachel won’t realize you’re using her.”
“Jason,” Alyssa whispered.
“She already started it.”
“No, you started it.”
“You’re the one who opened your mouth.”
“Stop,” Daniel said.
Neither child did.
Alyssa’s voice cracked.
“Mom said we shouldn’t feel guilty when Rachel buys us things because she’s basically paying Dad for getting to have a family.”
The words struck with such precision that I forgot to breathe.
Daniel sat down in the chair across from my desk.
Jason looked sick.
Alyssa wiped one cheek angrily.
I had spent years interpreting their distance as grief over a broken family.
Now, for the first time, I wondered whether someone had been handing that grief a script.
My laptop chimed.
The next cancellation had gone through.
Jason’s phone service would remain active until the end of the billing cycle.
He glanced at the screen and then at me.
“So you’re really doing this?”
“Yes.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Then don’t expect me to do anything for you either.”
I stood.
“I never did.”
That answer hurt him.
I saw it before he covered it with contempt.
He walked downstairs without another word.
Alyssa followed more slowly.
At the bottom of the stairs, Olivia moved aside to let them pass.
Nobody spoke to anyone.
Daniel stayed in the office.
I sat again and opened the account page for Alyssa’s phone.
“Rachel.”
I kept typing.
“Rachel, wait.”
“I have been waiting.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
He leaned forward with both elbows on his knees.
“I didn’t know Melissa was saying those things.”
“I believe you.”
He looked up, surprised.
That was the terrible part.
I did believe him.
Daniel had plenty of flaws, but elaborate deception had never been one of them.
Avoidance was.
He could walk around a problem so many times he eventually convinced himself it belonged to somebody else.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Separating responsibilities.”
“They’re kids.”
“They’re your kids.”
His face tightened.
I closed my eyes for a second.
The sentence sounded uglier out loud than it had in my head.
“They live here too,” he said.
“I know.”
“And whatever they said tonight, you’ve been part of their lives for almost four years.”
“I know that too.”
“So don’t do something permanent because you’re hurt.”
May you like
I looked past him toward the hallway.
On the wall hung a school photograph of all four children from the previous fall.
