Page 42 of The Matchmaker

“What happened?” From the looks of it, it’s not the best day for Nina either.

She hesitates, then turns to her daughter. “Want to go watch TV?”

“Really?” Her eyes widen.

“One episode.”

Lilah races upstairs—moments later, I hear the familiar opening notes of her favorite Pokémon show.

“Mom forgot to pick up Lilah from school,” Nina tells me. “She left the house and came home an hour later without her. She was foggy and confused. I have no idea where she went.”

My heart sinks. This is the biggest memory slip she’s had. “Was Lilah okay?”

“She didn’t even notice. The teachers put her in with the aftercare kids, so she was on the swings with her buddies when I got there. I had to pry her away. It’s not like she was remotely in danger, but of course Mom’s beating herself up over it.”

Khala had been having a streak of good days, so many thatI’d let myself be lulled into thinking that maybe—just maybe—her mind was recalibrating. That the memory lapses would soon become a thing of the past, and not an inevitability like the doctors have spelled out time and again. But moments like these are only going to increase. This is one of the hardest things to accept with Khala’s decline: Whether I like it or not, I am going to lose her.

“Let’s look into getting a mother’s helper for you to get Lilah from school,” I say. “A housekeeper a few hours a day can’t hurt either.”

“Thanks, Nura.”

I’m grateful that despite the mess I made of things last time I was over, we’re able to have a conversation where I don’t feel like I’m walking across a minefield.

“Normally, I would have noticed that it had been a while since she’d been gone,” Nina says. “I’ve been distracted because I got served a few hours ago.”

“Served? As in a process server came by?”

She holds up a manila envelope that had been resting on the coffee table. “Divorce papers. He beat me to the punch.”

“Nina…”

“Want to know the best part? He didn’t ask for custody. Even as a backhanded way to fuck with me.” Her voice cracks. “He wouldn’t have won, but he couldn’t be bothered to try. Guess he wants to start over new and pretend this part of his life never happened. That kills me for Lilah. Hedoeswant the house, though. I know how to pick them, don’t I?”

She wipes her eyes with the backs of her hands.

“If it helps you feel better, Khala and I never liked him.”

She looks at me, then lets out a laugh. “That does help, actually.”

“We can figure out a way to make him back off without putting up too much of a fight.”

“Like what?”

“We have private investigators at our disposal at the office,” I remind her. “You already know why he wants a divorce. We can see what else is going on with him. If there’s anything that can help you, count us in.”

Nina doesn’t say anything.

“Not everyone wants to dig deeper—itcanget ugly,” I quickly add. “I know you don’t like what we do at the agency. But—”

“Let’s do it. I want to pin that fucker so hard he won’t be able to move. I’ll be damned if he takes my house.”

“That’s the spirit.” I’ve seen people in the midst of breakups like hers. I know there will be ebbs and flows to this journey—but it’s good to see her in fight mode right now, as opposed to the teary-eyed, exhausted version from moments earlier. If she lets me, I’ll support her however I can.

Khala’s in bed when I enter her room. The tangerine bedcovers are draped over her. She pauses the Pakistani drama on the television—the actress freezes mid-pout.

“Don’tyoulook like a movie star?” Khala smiles at me, but her smile does not reach her eyes.

“Are you all right?” I ask her.

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