Page 96 of The One I Love
I can’t keep the laughter in anymore. Because that’s fucking funny. “Oh, you’re serious?”
Now it’s Paul’s turn for the beet-red face. “Yes! Is that how you’re going to raise our children? To be able to talk to elders like that?”
“She’s twenty-one, Dad. I don’t think you can call her an elder.”
My son doesn’t throw out burns often, but when he does, they are scorching.
“You stay out of it.”
Okay, that’s enough. “Paul. From what I heard, Luke and Mariah did nothing wrong. Yes, they shouldn’t have eavesdropped, but I can’t say I blame them for that. You started this with your inability to process that I’m happy, and mad as hell that I’ve found that happiness with Shane. Then you take it outon the kids and try to put them in the middle. Hell, you didn’t even do that when we got divorced. Then, you’re going to blame them because yourvery younggirlfriend talked shit about me and treated your kids like crap? I’ve never understood how your brain works, and today is just another day of that. Because if you think Luke and Mariah are at fault, you’re more delusional than I thought.”
I stand up a little straighter, proud of myself for standing up to him and the kids. I didn't use to do that. Even within the last few years if we had an argument, I would back down if I didn’t think I could hold my own.
But not anymore. Especially now that I see Shane standing on one side of me and Luke on the other.
“I’m done,” Paul says, typically not taking any accountability. “It’s clear you’ve poisoned my kids against me.”
“You did that all by yourself,” I say. “You didn’t need any help from me.”
Paul turns and looks at Luke. “See? She’s blaming you. Not taking any accountability.”
“Don’t talk about accountability, Dad. You don’t know the definition of the fucking word. Now leave. We don’t want you here.”
Out of all the things said in this exchange, Luke dropping an F-bomb might be the most shocking. Because that might be the meanest thing my son has ever said.
I’m so proud.
“Luke. Don’t talk to?—”
“He said to leave, Paul. I’d suggest you do that.”
I’ve held the Hulk back long enough. I’m not stopping him this time.
Shane steps in front of us, slowly backing Paul up to his Hummer. He goes to grab the rest of the bags, his eyes never leaving Paul.
“I’ll take good care of them, Paul. Don’t worry.”
And with a huff and a slam of the car door, Paul peels out of the parking lot.
“Mom, I’m so sorry,” Luke says. “I know I swore, but I was mad and?—”
I pull Luke into the biggest hug I’ve ever given him. “Don’t you apologize for a thing. You said what you needed to say, and frankly, there is no one more fitting to get your first F-bomb than your father.”
He laughs. “Thanks.”
Shane comes over and pats him on the back. “Proud of you. What you said here? What you probably had to navigate on the trip? That was a lot.”
Luke nods as we hurry to drop the bags into my car before heading back into Mona’s. “It was. Being on Mariah duty was a full-time job.”
“Don’t I know it.”
We start walking back toward the diner when I catch a glimpse of something through the window I can’t quite make out.
Are those balloons? And streamers? And is that my mom? When did she get here?
“Shit…”
The three of us are silent when we get to the door and see Mariah barging out, her eyes as wide as saucers.
