Page 14 of Whatever It Takes

My mom who never asks more of me—when what I am is subsequently less.

I clutch onto the doorframe, watching as my dad crosses his arms over his burly chest.

He says to her, “We’ll never finalize this fucking divorce if your lawyer keeps putting this off.”

My mom inhales a shaky breath. Her nose flares and she fights tears again, straddling more sadness than rage.

No. Tell him to fuck off, Mom. Tell him you don’t want him.I bite my tongue, hoping she’ll stand up for herself.

“Please, Rob…” she cries. “Just come back home.”

My stomach is queasy. I just want her to kick him out, to grow the strength to rip apart the thing that causes her pain.Come on, Mom. You can do it.

I wish I had the bravery to help her, but my feet cement to the floor, weighed like shackles of tar-filled balloons.

Through his teeth, he sneers, “I’d rather burn in fuckinghellthan be with a woman who spent over seventeen years repeatedly lying to me.”

A chill races across my arms, and I swallow a lump.

“It has nothingto do with you, Rob.” Her voice trembles, and then tears burst forth in a guttural cry. It pierces me through the chest, and I stagger one step. I’m blown back.

Meanwhile,hejust stands there.

Hejust watches in disgust.

How could he—

“You abandonedyourson,” he says so passionately, so soulfully and hatefully that his face turns blood-red.

And I go utterly cold.

“Your fuckingson,” he repeats with glassy eyes. “The onethat I knew nothing about!” He points a finger at his chest. Vibrating—he’s vibrating in anger and pain.

I’m shaking with it too.

I don’t understand…

My dad licks his lips and adds, “How does the fact that you saw the father of your son ontwelveseparate occasions for two decades, not affect me?”

No.

I rock back.

He’s to blame.

Isn’t he?

He has to be.

Tears crest my eyes as I try to block out the truth. No.

Think about it, Willow.

I don’t want to. It’s easy believing one way for so long, to put all of my emotions in this one drawer that makes the most sense. Ithurtshaving someone yank open the drawer and dump out its contents, destroying what I know is real.

She’s my ally.

She’s my confidant and my friend.