Page 12 of As the Years Pass
Adam
It’s Thanksgiving day, and as I have for the last three Thanksgivings, I’ll spend it alone.
Leslie and I have been separated for two years, but we had problems long before that. Right after Ian was born was when we could no longer pretend everything was okay. It was the stress of a new baby while dealing with a four year old, working, and just overall not liking each other anymore. I used to like her so much—hell, I loved her—and then one day, I just didn’t. But we kept going because we were married and had kids, and that’s what you’re supposed to do.
We talked about our issues before we split—it was amicable, which is how I know my experience was the same as hers, butI feel like I tried to fix things longer than she did. Or maybe I didn’t try hard enough.
Still, we gave it our best then and we keep things cordial now—mostly because I don’t argue with her about anything. I know that, but it’s easier to do as she says so she doesn’t make my life more difficult than it already is. I wish I could see my kids every day, but with the contract in place for work, I’m stuck traveling back and forth to California each week until the end of the year. Leslie said once it ends, we can revisit our schedule with the kids.
Still, I know that doesn’t mean I’ll see them every day. They’re her kids too, and splitting time with them is the worst thing about separating. I would love nothing more than to quit my job and be with my kids every damn second of every damn day.
Every Monday that comes, I’m exhausted because I spend my nights over the weekend in their bedrooms, watching them sleep, carefully taking in all the changes. Like the new freckles on Judy’s nose, or the extra eye lashes on Ian’s beautiful eyes. They grow too fast, and I swear each time I pick them up, even though only a few days have past, it feels like months.
I don’t really care about the holidays—they mean nothing to me. But not being able to spend them with my kids, not being able to make traditions with them, that’s what I hate.
It was one of the things I looked forward to most when it came to having kids. Creating memories for them, with them.
I have wonderful childhood memories with my family, and that’s what I wanted for my kids. But it seems all their memories will be with their mother andherfamily, with me pushed to the side and picking them up when they’re already full of turkey and pie and ready for bed. Or after all their presents have been opened and they’ve spent hours playing with them, and then all they want to do is sleep.
It’s not fair, but at the end of the day, I only have myself to blame. I chose this life, I chose Leslie, I didn’t try hard enough, and now I get to suffer for my choices. And then, because life really loves to fuck with me, I ran into Emmet. Of all people… Emmet Durant. I couldn’t believe it when he walked out of the back room of that bar. Truly, I thought I was dreaming—because how is that possible?
He looks as good as ever. The years have done wonders to him. He looks healthy, and in shape. He’s a little more rugged than he once was, with his hair grown longer and his beard bushy, but that’s Emmet. Nothing else would suit him.
I can’t help but wonder if him being here means something. If it’s a sign that moving to Seattle was the right choice—that I should try harder to convince Leslie to stay because this is where her family is. She’s on the fence about going back to California, but if we can make things work in Seattle, why not? Why go back?
I have nothing in California anymore. All the friends I made over the years were because of Leslie. They’re all married couples with kids, and now we have nothing in common because I’m hardly a dad when I’m in Cali. It’s likely I’ll no longer be the person they knew ever again. My life has changed so much, and I don’t fit into that mold anymore. I can’t imagine marrying someone again. I can’t even imagine dating; I have no time for it. Between traveling and the kids, I hardly have time for myself, something I am constantly being told by—
“Hey, what are you still doing here?”
Cassidy.
“Just working on some emails before I have to head to the airport,” I answer, giving her a quick smile.
She rolls her eyes and plops into the chair on the other side of my desk. “You should have left last night. You know, before the holiday.”
“I’ll be in Seattle by twelve. What are you doing here?” I ask, letting out a heavy sigh.
“I forgot my favorite cup.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. I can’t go until Tuesday without it.”
“It’s just a cup.”
She waves me off. “So, big plans with the kids?”
I shrug, closing out of my email and powering down my laptop.
“Not really. It’ll be late by the time I pick them up tonight. They’ll probably sleep late tomorrow.”
“At least you have the whole day to do stuff with them.”
“I guess.”
She watches me carefully as I close my laptop and get to my feet.
“Are you going to talk to any adults this weekend, Adam?”
