Page 27 of The Shake Off

“Yeah, there are a couple of other schools she’s looking at, but everything is under NDA for security, so I only heard from someone else who’d heard it.”

“It would still be quite cool if that happened, the President’s daughter at our Alma Mater.”

“Speaking of mothers, have you heard from yours?”

I shook my head. “Nope. She’s on a cruise with Joe.”

“Don’t tell me she forgot your birthday again!” Kit fumed.

I nodded. I couldn’t bring it in me to get as annoyed as Kit; I’d had years of both my parents forgetting my birthday. Twelve years in fact, because once I’d left home for New York, it was like I didn’t exist. That might be a slight exaggeration, but it wasn’t far off.

When I was ten years old, my parents sat me down and announced they were divorcing. As divorcing parents do, they assured me nothing would change. They still loved me, and loved each other, but they were going to be friends instead of husband and wife.

That was their first lie.

It quickly became incredibly messy and acrimonious. I was frequently used as a pawn in their fights, and for my teenage years when I should have been at the mall with my friends, or kissing boys, I’d had to deal with my parents and their self-absorbed games of one-upmanship. If my dad found a new girlfriend, then my mom had to find a new boyfriend. If my mom bought a new car, then my dad would go on a spending spree to make it clear she wasn’t getting any more of his money.

When I was fifteen, my dad finally stopped playing games and met a lady he could truly love – Cynthia – and they started their own family, and I finally got the sisters I’d always wanted. Except my dad finding happiness left my mom so incensed she went on a mission to find a new husband. Joe is currently her third.

The moral of the story is, if you have parents who care more about fighting with each other than the welfare of their daughter, then you can’t expect to be remembered for important occasions. It also instilled in me the hard truths that you can’t expect anyone else to make you happy, and love will only crush you in the long term.

A few college boyfriends tried to change my mind, but the damage had already been done.

I’m a child of divorce. Fifty percent of marriages end in it, and I have no intention of being included in that statistic, however cliché that makes me.

Dating apps would forever be the life for me.

Kit reached over and squeezed my thigh, taking care not to jolt me while I applied the first layer ofEssie Licoriceblack polish to my toes. “I’m sorry, Pay.”

“Eh, what you gonna do? I’m thirty now, they’re never going to change.”

“Nope, but you have Murray, Bell, and me. We can adopt you into our family.”

“Hey,” I turned and smirked, “we’re all for adoption.”

“Damn right,” she grinned, though it dropped as she glanced to the television. “Hey, what’s going on?”

I peered up at the screen. Ace’s face was so close up, it made the tension in his jaw even more pronounced than it had been. The first Phillies player was jogging to first base.

“Turn it up, what’s wrong with him?”

I snatched up the remote and increased the volume, though we both still leaned forward to listen to the commentary.

“Wow, Aaron. That’s four balls all missing the strike zone, and the Phillies get a walk on the first batter. Penn Shepherd isn’t going to like that as a start to his Lions’ Opening Day.”

“None of the team is, Mark.”

“Looking at Ace Watson now, he doesn’t seem too happy either. Unsurprising really.”

Kit and I stayed silent as Ace took the mound again. This time the ball was hit, but the batter only made it to first base.

“This isn’t what we expect from the Lions’ golden boy on Opening Day,” continued the commentator, while Ace looked more thunderous, though it was nothing compared to Penn’s face when the camera found him.

“You’re right, Mark. He had a great first season with the Lions. The chemistry between him and Parker King was a big contribution to how far the Lions came last year from the year before – moving from the bottom of the standings to the first round of the post season – but he just doesn’t seem to be there today.”

The screen changed to a wide shot of the field, or more accurately, the diamond where there was now a Phillies player on every base.

“This doesn’t look good,” muttered Kit, as she reached for another slice of pizza.

---