Sadie touched Charlie’s forearm and moved the broom to her shoulder. “Honey. You loved this bowl, really loved this bowl, but it won’t be safe, and gluing it isn’t the best idea. We need to get rid of the pieces. Charlie, I promise I’ll get you a new bowl.”
“No.” More tears dropped onto his cheeks, and he hugged his full shirt to his chest, turning away from my view. “You can’t get me a new bowl. This bowl came from Dad...I use it every morning...it’s...it’s...”
“Sweetie, please, you have to throw the pieces away.”
“No, Mom, I need them. I need him.”
Shit. My hands shook as my son collapsed against the breakfast bar. I’d given Charlie the beloved bowl when life was still good, whole. Even in my fucked-up state I knew the bowl represented everything kind and healthy about me. About our family. And breaking that bowl...Charlie clutched the bulge of glass pieces closer to his body, making it possible he might cut himself. An itch rose within me: getting my son out of the dangerous position of holding sharp glass moved to the front of my brain. But with patient movements, Sadie reached out to Charlie, lifting him up and placing her hands against the full shirt.
“There’s no point in holding onto those pieces, Charlie. They’re broken.” Finality laced her voice as she pried the pieces from Charlie, who stood there in a daze. A certain guilt overcame me: for listening in on a conversation that wasn’t meant for me to hear, for lurking in the other room when I should have announced my presence. But then: anger. At Sadie’s words, at her inability to see what Charlie needed, at her in general. That glass. Sharp, razor-edged. She should have taken those damn glass pieces from Charlie right from the start. And those words...
Breathe in, breathe out. One, two, three. He hadn’t gotten hurt. At least not physically.
Still hanging back, I said nothing. Sadie swept up the remaining glass fragments and put them in a grocery bag, then headed to the utility room, probably to grab the vacuum. Apparently, my method had gotten through to her. I moved into the kitchen, waiting with folded arms over my chest. Sadie opened her eyes wide when she came back into the room, duct tape in one hand, vacuum in the other.
“I heard what you said.” My low voice barely rang in the air. “About the pieces of the bowl. Is that how you view me? Is there no point to holding on to me?”
Sadie had an answer for everything. This time, there was no point in sticking around to find out what the answer might be.
Chapter 9: Sadie
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”
The smell of the leather chair in Kate’s office hit my nose as I slid onto it. Kate wasn’t my therapist, but she was a therapist, and one who kept Saturday hours. I’d called her after having been made frantic by Theo’s words, which had rankled me to my deepest emotion. It had been a long time since I’d stepped foot into a confessional, but Kate would appreciate my humor.
“Too funny, my friend, too funny. I’m glad you came in. You sounded so frazzled over the phone.” Her kind voice sent a calming presence throughout my body.
“It’s good to see you too...” A slight uneasiness settled into me. Only the air-conditioning whirred in the silence stretching between us.
“Well. How long has it been since your last confession?” Kate winked.
“Too long. Can we leave it at that?”
“Sure can. And clearly, I’m not suited for that job. Now what can I do for you? What happened?”
The chair’s leather back embraced my body, lending me confidence. “Theo said something that got to me. After a small accident—Charlie’s favorite bowl broke, and I got a bit upset—I convinced Theo I was throwing him away, throwing our relationship away. And based on everything that’s happened in the last couple of months, I’m...I never thought I’d be one of these people.” I contorted my fingers on my lap, resisting the urge to haul my body out of Kate’s office and run all the way home. That wouldn’t solve a thing.
“One of what people, hon?”
A silent shiver traveled along my spine at the addition of the endearment. Kate would be able to understand me, but would I understand myself? “The type who seems to invite drama. The type to be having impure thoughts.”
“Impure?”
The tone of her voice was a good sign she’d taken me seriously, and I pulled in a deep breath, filling my lungs with the cool, cleansing air. “I haven’t acted upon them. But...”
At least a few moments went by before Kate spoke again. “Ah, this must be about Grocery Store Man, right?”
“Yes.”
“And why is he a problem?”
“Well, for one, I’m contemplating having an affair.” I gasped. “Did I just say that?”
This time, Kate’s laughter reverberated against the office walls. “Yes, you did, and it isn’t the first time I’ve heard someone use those words, so don’t be embarrassed. We’re all human. Please understand I’m not laughing at you. But the look of shock on your face...”
“Oh no worries. At all.” I shook my head, unable to go on.
Kate leaned closer. “Do I need to remind you that you and Theo aren’t a thing anymore? If you’re interested in this new guy, is it time to follow that interest?”
“I’ve thought of that—not being with Theo but being with Theo. But if I give in to the rush and pursue this guy, everything might change. Guilt would do me in.”
“Why guilt? I’m not sure your thoughts are as impure as you think. They seem normal to me.”
“Normal.” I sighed. “That’s such a relative term, isn’t it?” My life hadn’t been normal for some time, or at least it felt like it hadn’t. What it needed was a change, but—
“And what do you mean by ‘change everything’?” Kate asked.
“My life. The kids’ lives. Theo’s life for sure. Would he try to take the kids away from me? How would he handle the PTSD and the kids, by himself, in a house alone? I can’t leave him alone with the kids anyway. And I—”
Kate held up her hands. “Whoa. Slow down. You’re getting way ahead of yourself here, aren’t you?”
“Maybe?”
“No maybes about it. Listen. You like this guy. You’re not married to Theo—”
“I’m not divorced from him yet either—” Theo still hadn’t signed the papers.
“But you want to be, divorced from him I mean. That’s the most important thing to remember. And you have plans to be divorced; you’re allowing Theo to progress at his own pace. So, explore the situation, get to know this guy a little. If things go well, you worry about the future then.”
Kate had the knack for being sensible and often allowed me to see the things hiding behind my clouds of judgment. But something still seemed not right. “What about Theo?”
“What about Theo? I’m sorry, Sadie. You’re my friend, and I’m on your side more than I am his.” Kate gripped her fingers against mine and held on tight. “Yes, I want to see him recover fully. Yes, I want to see him whole and lead a productive life. But I want to see you happy too. And these last few years—you haven’t been happy. That’s partly why you both decided on the divorce in the first place.”
“You’re not telling me anything I’m not aware of. It’s just...”
“It’s what?”
“Change is hard. Even considering divorce took so much of my time and energy, took so much life out of me. I’m not sure how much I have left. To give myself or to give anyone else.”
Kate’s face softened. “Honey, I understand—you still care for Theo and his well-being. He’s still, in many ways, the man you married. But he can’t—or doesn’t want to—get the help he needs to come back to you. Is that what yo
u’re waiting for?”
Another good point. Was I holding out hope Theo would come back? Is that why I had agreed to our living situation?
Kate didn’t wait for me to answer, just shook my hands once against my lap. “Here’s the thing you need to remember. Life doesn’t always go as planned, right? You know this all too well. But also—when we think life is going along as we want it to, it’s because we’ve manipulated the situation, whether we recognize it or not.
“Placed in the 10K race? I bet you trained for it. Got the promotion? Didn’t you put in twelve-hour days for weeks? You force the hand, so to speak. Stop thinking of Theo or the family or anyone else who might play a role in your life right now and rewrite the stars, Sadie. What is good for you? You can shape that narrative, as you book editors like to say.” Kate let go of my hands and leaned back in her chair, a soft, kind smile filling her face.
A snort escaped from my body. “Are you kidding? It’s not that simple!”
“Yeah, I might be a little bit optimistic, but you love me.” With a quick wink and a smirk, Kate patted my hand.
Before I left Kate’s office, she suggested sitting and having a heart-to-heart conversation with Theo. “It will be tough,” she said, “But I’m speaking as your friend and as a therapist, and it would be the best thing to do.”
She was right: going through with the divorce would effectively “throw him away,” at least in his eyes, so a conversation was the least I owed Theo. But on the way home from Kate’s office, the idea I’d failed my son with respect to his bowl came crashing down on me. Of course he wanted to hold on to it, to hold onto his father. It wasn’t just any bowl, but I’d treated it as such. Who should I go to first: Theo or Charlie?
The traffic light switched to green, and my mind accelerated with the car. I might be able to fix the bowl—find an epoxy or something to glue the pieces together. Charlie couldn’t eat from it then, but he’d be able to use it for something. Fix bowl landed at the top of my mental to-do list as I opened the door to our house.
Theo was nowhere to be seen but wouldn’t have gone far. He rarely pushed back against my preference for “no driving alone,” and his car was in the garage; I exhaled a large, relieved breath. Like it or not, Theo would have to wait and so would any discussion of my prior “bad parenting” moment. I would fashion a good excuse for my unacceptable behavior during my slight reprieve. Before I asked where Theo was, Charlie barreled toward me.
“Mom! I have that camp project to work on, and I want to be able to show the leader what I’m doing sometime this week. Can you help?” Concern flooded Charlie’s eyes as he handed me Lexie’s sippy cup, covered with stuck-on cereal bits and melted cheese. I worked to pry off the cheese, but there was no hope, so I tossed the cup into the sink for washing later.
“Yes, the project. I guess Dad can’t help with it, can he?” The habit of passing off work to Theo wasn’t something I engaged in, but if he handled part of the task, then I could prepare lunch for the five of us—a job Theo wouldn’t try to take on since some activities took too much patience.
“Well, no...but...come to think of it, I guess I don’t need actual help. I need to use the computer and printer,” said Charlie. “And Lexie can be with me. She can help me choose pictures.”
A huge smile passed across Lexie’s face as she reached out a chubby hand to her beloved brother. I leaned to pat Lexie’s bum, checking the diaper contents, and then straightened back up, smiling at my youngest daughter and marveling at her admiration for Charlie.
“Yes, of course you can use the computer. Go ahead and get my laptop but take it in the dining room. When you’re ready to print, I can help you.” Turning over the lunch possibilities in my mind, I strode to the kitchen. A trip to the grocery store needed to happen soon, but the thought of going to the store set my mind on edge. Instead? The babysitter. A note on the kitchen wall whiteboard would remind me to speak with Brooke later.
“Thanks, Mom. And by the way, the hospital called.” Charlie’s voice and face were devoid of worry, but the word hospital always caused a toothache. I turned around, my back to the kitchen sink.
“The hospital? Or the therapist? Did they tell you why? Did they leave a message?” What did they want? Despite his fatigue, Theo’s overall mental health seemed balanced. At least I thought so.
“I’m not sure, Mom. She gave me her name and number, and I guess I thought it was the hospital. I left the paper by the phone. She said to tell you she wanted to talk to you, and she’d be there until eleven thirty today.”
Charlie always got most the details right. I checked the watch on my wrist and exhaled a heavy breath. Practitioners normally called my cell phone. “Did you see if your dad was around?”
Charlie tipped his head back, looking at me sheepishly. “Well...he was asleep.”
Annoyance coursed through me, and I slammed my hands against the surface of the countertop. “Asleep?”
Charlie shrugged. “Yeah.”
“The whole time I was gone?” My irritation grew with each beat of my heart.
“Um, yes.”
“If he was asleep, who was watching Lexie and Delia?” Fury replaced irritation. I didn’t mind hiring Brooke when necessary—and in this case, asking her to come back—but Theo had to tell me when we needed her or to call her himself. He. Knew. That. Theo had said he’d be fine for sixty minutes. And I had been gone for fifty-eight.
“It’s okay, Mom. I—”
“Don’t argue with me, please.”
Charlie held up his small hand. “But you have to listen. Dad needed the sleep, really. So, I had the girls work on a craft in the basement, and I helped them. It wasn’t too hard for them and actually, we had a great time.”
With a sigh, I pulled Charlie into my arms and pushed my face into his hair. He was still young enough to embrace me back, his strong but wiry arms stretching around my middle. “Taking care of the girls isn’t your responsibility, Charlie. I’m so thankful you were an awesome big brother but looking after your sisters is my job or Dad’s or Brooke’s. Next time, call me.”
Charlie pulled away from me, his eyes big and round. “I did, Mom,” he whispered. “I called, but there was no answer.”
Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. Again. This time, I didn’t find the phrase funny.
Chapter 10: Theo
Monday morning came too soon. Fire raced underneath my skin, and my muscles coiled, ready for action. Once Brooke had left to take Lexie for a walk and Charlie and Delia had gone on to camp, Sadie and I were the only two left in the house. One thing I learned from Doc was the power of clearing the air. Now was the time. A clink and clank of dishes being put away meant Sadie was in the kitchen. As I entered the room, she stood at the counter, preparing her coffee for the road. I pulled a mug from the cabinet, poured myself coffee, and reached for the milk. With shaking hands, I splashed milk onto the countertop and knocked a stray water glass as I reached for the paper towels. In two steps, Sadie had the dishrag in her hand and sighed at the spreading puddle.
Sighs had always annoyed me, especially from Sadie, and my mind pushed back at the inclination to say something snarky. Breathe in, breathe out. One, two, three. “I can get that spill. You go ahead to work. You’re running a little late.”
Being helpful or thoughtful hadn’t been my M.O. as of late—Doc had been quick to point that out to me—and I still grimaced when I thought of Charlie’s bowl and our discussion from two days before. Or lack of discussion, rather. Sadie and I had an argument without having one: she’d walked away from the conversation, and I’d gone about my own business. Maybe my helpfulness now served as a subconscious way of trying to make amends.
She looked at me with kind eyes. While
there was no way to know what was going on in her mind, the softness in her face made me consider if she was reflecting on how we used to be, on those days when we had time for one another. The nights when I’d be home for weeks on end, before the nightmares in the middle of the night forced me to the bathroom, up against the cool wall tile, trying to talk myself down from the ledge. What would she do if she knew I had another one of those episodes the night before? Would she care? I’d changed, but so had she. Where was the girl I fell in love with?
“I’m good, Theo. I’m the mom, and it’s what I do—clean up the spills. But yeah, I should go. I have a couple phone meetings with other editors I can’t push off.” She pressed the lid of her travel mug—snap! A noise that set my jaw clenching. Between the sound and that she had no time for me, my ire rose.
“Are we going to talk about it at all?” The question hung in the air—so palpable it was almost visible—and I waited for an answer. Did she get what I was talking about? A ticking inside my head counted off the seconds. One, two, three, four...
Sadie’s face blanched before her usual mask of calm slid into place. “About what?” She refused to meet my gaze as she fumbled around in her purse, most likely to find her keys. Her lack of organization skills with respect to those keys had always surprised me. With everything else in her life, things seemed to fall in line. But not with those damn keys. Hell, right after our wedding, I’d even bought her a key tree. It stood empty on the counter right now.
“About what you said...me being broken. About us.”
She set her full mug on the kitchen table and pulled her phone out of her bag. Somehow, her phone was always easy to locate. “I didn’t say you were broken, Theo.” A touch of the screen and she started to text. “Hold on a minute. We can talk now, but I need to let Jackie know not to expect me until later.”
Of course. The curse of the phone. “Yeah, Sadie, it’s always that phone. Can’t you leave it alone?”
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