Mom was late again.
This was the fourth day this week. On Monday, there had been an accident on the road, and she'd been stuck in traffic for two hours. On Tuesday, her coworker Steve had insisted she stay late and help him with a project, though I knew I hadn't seen anyone with that name displayed on his desk. On Wednesday, she'd gone to get groceries for an hour and a half and forgot to call - and also seemed to consume everything she'd bought on the way home without a trace.
It was six thirty; she was an hour late. I wondered what she'd say this time. I watched Dad dump a can of green beans into a bowl and turn on the microwave, slamming the door shut.
The bowl whirred around in a mesmerizing circle. Green beans were the typical Mom's-not-home-yet dinner, along with boiled hot dogs.
The sound of an engine and a car door slamming alerted me to Mom's abrupt return. I went to the window to see her slender figure emerge from her green convertible. They yelled about that car sometimes, arguing about the price of it and how Mom didn't let Dad drive it.
I ran downstairs and opened the door for Mom as she entered. Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor, and she brought with her a strong odor of smoke and perfume.
"Sorry, Boo," she told me huskily, ruffling my hair with her manicured hand. "I had an appointment."
Dad cleared his throat. We turned, and he was standing there in the doorway. "What lies are you telling this time, Monica?" he asked. There was a tone in his voice that I had never heard before, and it scared me. I crept behind Mom's leg, away from the fury in my father's eyes.
"Shut up, William," she snapped. "Charlie is right here."
"Go to your room," Dad said to me. "Your mother and I need to talk." As I met his soft brown eyes, I could tell that he was not mad at me, so I ran past him and went to my bedroom.
I lay on my blue and white sheets and stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. My moon lamp sat beside me on my bedside table. Mom had given it to me after I'd found a shirt I'd never seen before in her car. True to my word, I hadn't told Dad. Mom said she'd been feeling generous, and I thought that seemed true.
Mom's voice grew louder as Dad's became angrier. I heard a thump as something hit the wall, and Mom screamed. They were yelling now. I buried my face in my pillow to muffle their words and prayed that it would all be okay.
After an eternity, my door opened and Dad looked in at my tear-streaked face. His skin was red and his expression drooped with weariness. "Hey, kiddo," he said, sitting on the end of my bed.
I pulled my knees to my chest, hugging my teddy tightly. It didn't yell or make me leave. I liked it better than either of my parents. Glaring at Dad, I waited for him to explain as yet another tear leaked from my eye.
Dad blew out a breath. "I'm sorry, Charlie," he said. He sounded genuine. "Mom... Mom isn't going to be around anymore."
"Why?" I snuffled, holding Teddy more tightly.
Dad looked at the ceiling. I could have sworn I saw a tear in his eye, but that was impossible. Dad never cried. "She... she did something bad."
"What?" I demanded.
"She was meeting... talking to... well, Charlie, I guess I'll just tell you straight out. She cheated on me."
I blinked at my strong father, almost moved to tears by his wife's betrayal. I didn't quite know what he meant, but I understood that cheating in cards was bad and my friends at school had spoken of their own parents' dishonesty. I understood enough to know that this was what broke parents up, what made kids have two separate houses. The thought that I would soon become one of them was... heartbreaking. I buried my face in Teddy and cried.
Strong arms wrapped around me, and the bear fell to the bed as my father hugged me. We sat there in my room, supporting each other and crying, as we slowly accepted the fact that our conflicted, safe life was at an end.
This was not so much an end as a new beginning.