Page 4 of Operation Annulment
“Sorry about that. Charley horse,” Benjamin forces out through gritted teeth before turning to Pops. “And work is going well—really well, in fact.”
I move to nudge him again with the fork, but he easily pries it from my grasp before I can make contact.
“I’m up for a promotion,” he says, his features tightening as he turns toward me. “I’ll be traveling to our affiliate offices around the state more, but I think this could be a good move for my career.”
He’s shown up to every Sunday dinner for the past year, where we eat off Nan’s finest china and present a version of ourselves that doesn’t exist in reality.
I’d run away to Colorado too…
“I hate to eat and run, but I have an early day tomorrow,” I announce, pushing back my chair. The heel of my shoe catches on the rug as I stand, sending me and the chair crashing to the floor.
“Mary Katherine, what on earth?” Nan exclaims as she rushes over.
“I’m fine,” I insist, my shoulders curling over my chest as I wave off her help. “I think my shoe was the only casualty.”
“What is this, duct tape?” she asks, picking up the broken heel for closer inspection. The black rubs off on her fingers, and she shakes her head in disgust. “Did you color these with a marker? I’d say it’s time to buy yourself some new shoes, missy.”
My lips flatten as I admit, “I can’t really, um, afford that right now, Nan.”
As it turns out, my sister makes more with a high school diploma than I do with a master’s degree, which would have been nice to know before I took on student loans.
“And that is why I have always told you girls that you have to work hard for what you want because why?”
“Because there are no handouts,” I mutter.
Never mind that I’ve had these shoes for ten years. I got through graduate school by getting creative with permanent markers and tape. I can fix them again once I get home.
“Norma, leave it. The girls didn’t come here for a lecture. Come on. Let’s get you up, Katydid.” Pops helps me to my feet while Benjamin grabs my purse.
Dakota gazes down at the intricate design on the rug, carefully avoiding making eye contact with me. Which honestly makes me feel like even more of a colossal failure.
“Hey,” I say, limping over to where she stands. “I love you, you know that?”
“I love you more.” She pulls me into a bone-crushing hug before lowering her voice. “Next paycheck, we’re getting you some new shoes.”
“Stop. I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you,” I whisper, blinking back tears.
“You do.”
It doesn’t feel that way, though.
“I didn’t realize things had gotten this bad,” Benjamin says when we arrive back at my apartment building. “If I’d known—what I’m trying to say is that if you need money, I can help.”
Most of the drive was spent in complete silence, which gave me time to contemplate all the ways I don’t measure up.
“It’s not that bad,” I lie. Benjamin reaches for my hand as I’m getting out, stopping me. “I just need to up my patient load for a little while. Seriously, I’ll be fine.”
He carefully weighs his words before admitting, “Listen, for what it’s worth, I did love you. And I hate seeing you like this. Promise me you’ll call if you change your mind or need anything?”
His clenched half-smile and overall awkwardness are too much, and I offer him a tight nod before bolting across the parking lot. I don’t want to fall apart—not in front of someone who’s only being nice because they feel sorry for me.
I don’t want anyone’s pity.
By the time I reach my apartment, my bare feet are filthy, and I tiptoe down the hall to avoid transferring anything onto the carpet. I run a hot bath and turn on the small CD player on top of the hamper before climbing in, letting Mama Cass’s voice take me to a better place.
As she begs her lover to dream a little dream, I swipe at the mascara-laced tears coursing down my cheeks and try to sing along. My voice is severely off-key, something that only makes me cry harder.
I cry until I’m hiccupping, and my nostrils are clogged with snot.
