“Not helping yourself, dumbass.”
“It’s like I told you on Friday, it didn’t mean anything.”
“Our marriage or your affair?”
“Our mar— I mean, the affair! I love you, not her.”
“Yeah, you said that on Friday, too, and I’m guessing that she didn’t agree with that. What was her name, Margaret?”
“Uh….”
“Let me guess. You spent the weekend trying to make up for that particular fuck-up with Margaret, and when that didn’t work out, now you’re calling me. Am I right?”
“No, it’s not like that! I was just giving you some space. I love you, Megan.”
“You have a strange way of showing it then.”
“I made a mistake! I’ve been under a lot of pressure at work and I wasn’t thinking straight. I don’t even know what I saw in her.”
“Her name is Margaret. You introduced me to her and her husband at the holiday party last year,” Megan said with painfully deliberate sweetness. “And I know damn well what you saw in her, because I saw all of her, too. And I mean all of her.”
“I, uh…”
“Shut up, Brad. Thank you for that, by the way. Now I don’t have to wonder what she does or doesn’t have compared to me. She definitely has bigger tits, and I’m never going bald down there. Do you like that hairless look? I haven’t been hairless down there since puberty. Wait, is that what you like?”
“No, uh…”
“Holy shit, I can hear your brain trying to catch up from here. How long, Brad?” There was silence on the phone for a few seconds.
“Now look, Megan. I just heard about Sophia transferring to a school in Portland. I can’t believe you took her to that God-forsaken Gomorrah! Are you living on the streets?”
Megan was unsurprised by Brad’s sudden aggressive questioning. She knew that he hated being out of control, and he was showing her just how much she had thrown him. She forced a pleasant tone into her voice as she responded, “Oh, it’s been very nice, actually. The local communist party welcomed us in. We’re in a tent commune right now. All the drugs you can take, and every weekend they throw gay orgies.”
“You’re going to b?—”
Megan hung up before Brad even finished. As much as she enjoyed messing with his head, she knew that at some point they were going to have to try to hold a mature discussion about Sophia’s future as well as their own. Clearly, Brad was not ready for that, and if she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t either. This was all still too raw right now.
Megan leaned back against the door to Tasha’s apartment as she did breathing exercises to clear her head and settle herself down. The past two days had been wonderful, and Monday was proving to be an unpleasant return to reality.
I really hate being the person having a personal phone conversation in a hallway. Thankfully, no one was here to witness it.
As she stared at the door to Tasha’s apartment, Megan dried off the remnants of her tears and entered. She found Sophia and Nocturne curled up on the couch together, like a child doughnut with cat filling. Sophia didn’t bother to look up from her book. The only acknowledgement of Megan’s return was Nocturne lazily raising her head, glaring at Megan, and then returning to her nap.
“We need to go to the grocery store. Do you want anything?”
“Ice cream.” Sophia’s nose was still down in her book.
“Ice cream, what?”
“Chocolate ice cream.” She didn’t even look up.
“Ice cream, please?”
“Sorry, Mommy. Chocolate ice cream. Please.” Sophia finally looked up and smiled.
Megan smiled back. “Alright, let’s get your coat. We’ll be back soon and you can go back to your reading.”
“But Mommy, I’m so comfortable.” And with that, Sophia’s head was back in her book.