Read Online The Sweetness of Forgetting by Kristin Harmel - Free Book Online
Authors: Kristin Harmel
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later with a box of strudel, I stare after him, my heart thudding hard in my chest. I don’t know why he seems to believe in me when I don’t believe in myself anymore. But I can’t think about that now; I have to tackle the more pressing issue: the bank’s plans to foreclose. I rub my temples, plug in the electric tea kettle, and sit down at one of my café tables to read the paperwork Matt gave me.
Chapter Five
I need to talk to you.”
It’s a week and a half later, and I’m standing on Rob’s doorstep—my old doorstep—my arms crossed over my chest. I look at my ex-husband now, and all I see is hurt and betrayal; it’s as if the person I fell in love with has disappeared entirely.
“You could have called, Hope,” he says. He doesn’t invite me in; he stands in the doorway, a guard at the door to a life left behind.
“I did call,” I say firmly. “Twice to the house, and twice to your office. You haven’t called me back.”
He shrugs. “I’ve been busy. I would have gotten back to you eventually.” He shifts his weight to his left side, and for a moment, I have the distinct feeling he looks sad. Then, all the emotion is gone from his face and he says, “What is it you need?”
I take a deep breath. I hate arguing with Rob; I always have. He once told me that it was a good thing he was the one who became a lawyer, while I dropped out to raise the baby. You don’t know how to fight, he’d said. You have to have that killer instinct if you’re going to make it in the courtroom. “We need to talk about Annie,” I say.
“What about her?” he asks.
“Well, for one thing, we need to be in agreement about the ground rules. She’s twelve. She shouldn’t be wearing makeup to school. She’s a kid.”
“Christ, Hope, is that what this is about?” He laughs, and I’d be insulted if I didn’t know this is just part of the strategy he employs regularly against opposing attorneys and witnesses for the other side. “She’s almost a teenager, for God’s sake. You can’t keep her a little girl forever.”
“I’m not trying to,” I tell him. I take a deep breath and struggle to stay collected. “But I’m trying to set some boundaries. And when I set them, and you undermine them, she doesn’t learn a thing. And she winds up hating me.”
Rob smiles, and perhaps I’d feel patronized if I hadn’t spent endless nights during our marriage watching him practice his strategic smirk in the mirror. “So that’s what this is about,” he says. Ah yes, Rob Smith Argument Tactic Number Two: Pretend that you know exactly what the other person is thinking—and that you’re already way ahead of her.
“No, Rob.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes for a second. Relax, Hope. Don’t get sucked into this. “This is about our daughter growing up to be a decent young woman.”
“A decent young woman who doesn’t hate you,” he amends. “Maybe you should just give her some space to be herself, Hope. That’s what I’m doing.”
I glare at him. “No, it’s not,” I say. “You’re trying to be the cool parent so I’m stuck being the disciplinarian. That’s not fair.”
He shrugs. “So you say.”
“Furthermore,” I continue as if I haven’t heard him, “it’s totally inappropriate for you to be saying bad things about me to Annie.”
“What have I said?” he asks, holding up his hands in mock surrender.
“Well, for one thing, you’ve apparently told her that I wasnever capable of telling you I loved you.” I feel my throat close up a little, and I take a deep breath.
Rob just looks at me. “You can’t be serious.”
“That’s a stupid thing to say to her. I told you I loved you.”
“Yeah, Hope, what, once a year?”
I look away, not wanting to have this conversation again. “What are you, an insecure teenage girl?” I mumble. “Did you want me to get you a BFF necklace too?”
He doesn’t look amused. “I just don’t want our daughter
Chapter Five
I need to talk to you.”
It’s a week and a half later, and I’m standing on Rob’s doorstep—my old doorstep—my arms crossed over my chest. I look at my ex-husband now, and all I see is hurt and betrayal; it’s as if the person I fell in love with has disappeared entirely.
“You could have called, Hope,” he says. He doesn’t invite me in; he stands in the doorway, a guard at the door to a life left behind.
“I did call,” I say firmly. “Twice to the house, and twice to your office. You haven’t called me back.”
He shrugs. “I’ve been busy. I would have gotten back to you eventually.” He shifts his weight to his left side, and for a moment, I have the distinct feeling he looks sad. Then, all the emotion is gone from his face and he says, “What is it you need?”
I take a deep breath. I hate arguing with Rob; I always have. He once told me that it was a good thing he was the one who became a lawyer, while I dropped out to raise the baby. You don’t know how to fight, he’d said. You have to have that killer instinct if you’re going to make it in the courtroom. “We need to talk about Annie,” I say.
“What about her?” he asks.
“Well, for one thing, we need to be in agreement about the ground rules. She’s twelve. She shouldn’t be wearing makeup to school. She’s a kid.”
“Christ, Hope, is that what this is about?” He laughs, and I’d be insulted if I didn’t know this is just part of the strategy he employs regularly against opposing attorneys and witnesses for the other side. “She’s almost a teenager, for God’s sake. You can’t keep her a little girl forever.”
“I’m not trying to,” I tell him. I take a deep breath and struggle to stay collected. “But I’m trying to set some boundaries. And when I set them, and you undermine them, she doesn’t learn a thing. And she winds up hating me.”
Rob smiles, and perhaps I’d feel patronized if I hadn’t spent endless nights during our marriage watching him practice his strategic smirk in the mirror. “So that’s what this is about,” he says. Ah yes, Rob Smith Argument Tactic Number Two: Pretend that you know exactly what the other person is thinking—and that you’re already way ahead of her.
“No, Rob.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes for a second. Relax, Hope. Don’t get sucked into this. “This is about our daughter growing up to be a decent young woman.”
“A decent young woman who doesn’t hate you,” he amends. “Maybe you should just give her some space to be herself, Hope. That’s what I’m doing.”
I glare at him. “No, it’s not,” I say. “You’re trying to be the cool parent so I’m stuck being the disciplinarian. That’s not fair.”
He shrugs. “So you say.”
“Furthermore,” I continue as if I haven’t heard him, “it’s totally inappropriate for you to be saying bad things about me to Annie.”
“What have I said?” he asks, holding up his hands in mock surrender.
“Well, for one thing, you’ve apparently told her that I wasnever capable of telling you I loved you.” I feel my throat close up a little, and I take a deep breath.
Rob just looks at me. “You can’t be serious.”
“That’s a stupid thing to say to her. I told you I loved you.”
“Yeah, Hope, what, once a year?”
I look away, not wanting to have this conversation again. “What are you, an insecure teenage girl?” I mumble. “Did you want me to get you a BFF necklace too?”
He doesn’t look amused. “I just don’t want our daughter
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