in the front yard or have a cell phone in third grade. The two of them had reveled in being in cahoots against Dana. Then Polly would gently set her straight, and Morgan would come home full of Nilla Wafers and newfound compliance. So if Polly, with all her motherly confidence, hadn’t seen it and didn’t even accept it in the face of dental evidence, Dana felt she had permission to loathe herself a little less completely.
At dinner Dana’s eyes were lowered toward her green beans, but she didn’t actually see them as she severed them into smaller and smaller pieces. Her peripheral vision, and every last one of her brain cells, was focused on Morgan’s plate. There went a piece of chicken, then a forkful of rice. The fork dropped onto the plate when Morgan stopped to tell Grady to quit jumping around like a hyperactive hamster. “I swear you need medication,” she grumbled. Dana waited for the fork to rise from the plate again, but it lay there, abandoned.
“Do we have to go to Dad’s?”
Dana stopped mincing her green beans and looked up.
“Mom, hello? Are you, like, with us?” Morgan asked.
“What? Yes.” Dana glanced around the table. They were all looking at her.
“Yes you’re here?” said Morgan. “Or yes we have to go to Dad’s?”
“Yes to both. Why wouldn’t you want to go to Dad’s?”
Grady and Morgan looked at each other. Grady sat down and started to eat his rice. Morgan sighed. “It’s just not that fun. You know, since Tina moved in. It’s kind of boring.”
Tina moved in ? Instinctively Dana’s face froze, every muscle held hostage by the need to seem calm in the midst of panic. Nobody move , she ordered those muscles. Nobody take a breath . Her mind sped through a list of acceptable responses, sifting for the one with the fewest possible implications. “Why is that boring?”
Grady huffed, unable to keep quiet. “Because! She’s, you know, a girl , and she’s a grown-up . And she wants to play board games ! She bought Trouble, the one with the popping thing in the middle so if you’re three years old you won’t lose the dice? It’s so BORING and DUMB!”
Dana sifted for another vanilla-flavored response. “I guess she thought you’d like it.”
“Dad wants us to spend time with her,” said Morgan. “He wants us to like her, and it’s kind of . . . I don’t know. Exhausting.”
“I see.” And Dana did see. The very thought of it wore her out completely. She was aware that Kenneth’s new girlfriend had started dropping by during the kids’ weekend visits over the summer. He’d been seeing her for . . . Dana guessed it was about two years now. So she wasn’t really the “new” girlfriend. She was old. Not in age, of course. But she was probably closing in on thirty, that magic number when, for most women, being single loses its shine. Funny how all that had gotten past Dana until this very moment. This day of all days. This bad-news, screwed-up, nerve-shredding day. Damn him, she thought. I do not need this now.
“Well,” she said, “that seems like something you should take up with your father.”
“Couldn’t you talk to him?” asked Morgan.
I would do anything for you, thought Dana. She let the air escape from its imprisonment in her lungs. “No, sweetie, I can’t. Dad’s in charge in Hartford. I’m only in charge here. At our house.” The doorbell rang. No one rose to answer it. “Grady, are you packed?”
“Oops!” Grady jumped up, jostling the table, and ran to his room.
“Go open the door for Dad,” Dana said to Morgan.
“Can you? I forgot something in my room.”
“I’ll get it,” offered Alder.
“Thanks, sweetie, but I’ll do it,” Dana said, rising and moving toward the mudroom. The doorbell rang again, and she thought, If he rings that thing one more time . . . She didn’t know what she’d do, but it would not be friendly. “It’s unlocked,” she told him irritably when she pulled the door toward her.
At dinner Dana’s eyes were lowered toward her green beans, but she didn’t actually see them as she severed them into smaller and smaller pieces. Her peripheral vision, and every last one of her brain cells, was focused on Morgan’s plate. There went a piece of chicken, then a forkful of rice. The fork dropped onto the plate when Morgan stopped to tell Grady to quit jumping around like a hyperactive hamster. “I swear you need medication,” she grumbled. Dana waited for the fork to rise from the plate again, but it lay there, abandoned.
“Do we have to go to Dad’s?”
Dana stopped mincing her green beans and looked up.
“Mom, hello? Are you, like, with us?” Morgan asked.
“What? Yes.” Dana glanced around the table. They were all looking at her.
“Yes you’re here?” said Morgan. “Or yes we have to go to Dad’s?”
“Yes to both. Why wouldn’t you want to go to Dad’s?”
Grady and Morgan looked at each other. Grady sat down and started to eat his rice. Morgan sighed. “It’s just not that fun. You know, since Tina moved in. It’s kind of boring.”
Tina moved in ? Instinctively Dana’s face froze, every muscle held hostage by the need to seem calm in the midst of panic. Nobody move , she ordered those muscles. Nobody take a breath . Her mind sped through a list of acceptable responses, sifting for the one with the fewest possible implications. “Why is that boring?”
Grady huffed, unable to keep quiet. “Because! She’s, you know, a girl , and she’s a grown-up . And she wants to play board games ! She bought Trouble, the one with the popping thing in the middle so if you’re three years old you won’t lose the dice? It’s so BORING and DUMB!”
Dana sifted for another vanilla-flavored response. “I guess she thought you’d like it.”
“Dad wants us to spend time with her,” said Morgan. “He wants us to like her, and it’s kind of . . . I don’t know. Exhausting.”
“I see.” And Dana did see. The very thought of it wore her out completely. She was aware that Kenneth’s new girlfriend had started dropping by during the kids’ weekend visits over the summer. He’d been seeing her for . . . Dana guessed it was about two years now. So she wasn’t really the “new” girlfriend. She was old. Not in age, of course. But she was probably closing in on thirty, that magic number when, for most women, being single loses its shine. Funny how all that had gotten past Dana until this very moment. This day of all days. This bad-news, screwed-up, nerve-shredding day. Damn him, she thought. I do not need this now.
“Well,” she said, “that seems like something you should take up with your father.”
“Couldn’t you talk to him?” asked Morgan.
I would do anything for you, thought Dana. She let the air escape from its imprisonment in her lungs. “No, sweetie, I can’t. Dad’s in charge in Hartford. I’m only in charge here. At our house.” The doorbell rang. No one rose to answer it. “Grady, are you packed?”
“Oops!” Grady jumped up, jostling the table, and ran to his room.
“Go open the door for Dad,” Dana said to Morgan.
“Can you? I forgot something in my room.”
“I’ll get it,” offered Alder.
“Thanks, sweetie, but I’ll do it,” Dana said, rising and moving toward the mudroom. The doorbell rang again, and she thought, If he rings that thing one more time . . . She didn’t know what she’d do, but it would not be friendly. “It’s unlocked,” she told him irritably when she pulled the door toward her.
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