Until Again Part 4

9.

Chris had no reference point for what they were about to do. He'd had his share of difficult conversations in his life. Telling five-year-old Becky she was seriously ill was by far the worst, but the day he'd been forced to fire four members of his team was deeply painful in a different way also leaving a permanent mark on his memory. However, nothing had prepared him for the talk he and Polly were about to have with Becky.

What made something that was going to be awful under any circ.u.mstances exponentially worse was the lie Chris had been reluctantly living with for the past several weeks. Just last night, after a Sat.u.r.day of awkwardness and walking on eggsh.e.l.ls around Polly, he'd hinted to Becky that everything was going to be okay. It was unlikely she'd interpreted this as meaning he was going to be moving out of the house this afternoon.

Polly wanted to tell Becky as soon as she got up. Chris insisted on waiting until they'd had breakfast. He wanted Becky to eat something first, because there was a good chance she wouldn't want to eat anything afterward.

This was the closest he'd come to controlling circ.u.mstances since Polly had told him she wanted a divorce. That sense of control evaporated by the time he cleared the table.

"Honey, your dad and I have something to discuss with you," Polly said as he finished loading the dishwasher.

Becky shot a look in his direction. He was sure that what she saw on his face alarmed her, but he was unprepared for the suddenness with which this conversation was beginning.

"Okay," Becky said slowly.

Polly gestured to her daughter with a welcoming hand. "Let's go sit in the family room."

Chris thought there was some obvious irony in having this conversation in the "family" room. From this day forward, would the s.p.a.ce be known as the "breaking-up-the-family" room? He followed them in, feeling lightheaded in a way that usually heralded the onset of the flu.

"Honey," Polly started, barely waiting for him to be seated, "I know you've noticed that things have been tenser than usual here lately. I'm sorry we couldn't share the reason for this until now."

Becky extended the fingers of her right hand out-ward and then curled them in on themselves a" her usual reaction when she was nervous.

Suddenly Chris wished it was three years from now, that this news was long behind them, and that they'd settled comfortably into their new way of life. Why couldn't there be some way to cut past this dreadful next juncture? Why was it necessary for his daughter to live this?

Polly reached out for that hand now and then took the other as well. She positioned herself directly in front of Becky. "I'm afraid your father is going to be moving out today."

Becky swiveled her head sharply to look at him.

Chris leaned in her direction. "Babe -"

"Your father and I just can't live together anymore, honey" Polly said, inching closer to their daughter. "We realize this is a terribly, terribly serious decision, and I want you to know that we never would have taken it lightly."

Chris wanted to scream. We never would have taken this Lightly, Polly? You clearly define "lightly" very differently than I do. You didn't even involve me in the process.

He touched Becky on the shoulder, Polly cutting her eyes angrily toward him as he did so. When he did, Becky erupted from the couch.

"I can't believe this is happening. Why didn't you give me some kind of warning? How could you just dump this on me like this now?"

She looked at them when she said it, but her gaze unmistakably lingered on Chris, making it clear that she believed they had a different deal than this. He found he had no answer for her, and in the milliseconds it took him to try to think of one, Polly interjected.

'We thought about that long and hard. Your father needed some time to get set up in his new apartment. It would have just been painful for you to have him in the house here with us when you knew he was going to be leaving."

Becky's eyes were starting to cloud. Chris knew that if she started crying he would as well, and while he wanted her to know how much this was hurting him, he didn't want to give Polly access to these emotions. She'd forfeited any right to see him exhibit any feelings when she rent him from the household.

"New apartment?" Becky said tentatively.

Chris nodded, though he guessed this was barely perceptible. He was having trouble moving his head. "In Standridge."

Becky pursed her lips. "Over the bridge."

"It's only a little bridge, babe."

"I still don't understand."

Polly reached out a hand. "Honey, come sit. I can explain it to you."

Becky's gaze went to the carpet. "I think I'd rather stand."

"This is a lot to comprehend. We realize that. You can't possibly take all of it in at once."

Thanks for speaking for me, Polly, Chris thought, barely containing the mix of anger and anguish surging inside. We don't understand, though. You understand because you're driving this and you're thrilled about it. I certainly don't understand it, and I doubt I ever will Becky's chin rose. "I a.s.sume this isn't a conversation."

Polly tipped her head forward. "It's an explanation, honey."

"Okay," Becky said, her voice unrecognizably chilly. It was as though someone else was speaking from her body. Someone he'd never shared anything with. "You've explained. I think I'd like to go upstairs now."

"It might be better if you sat with us a little longer," Polly said with the composure that comes with the kind of absolute certainty Chris had never felt about anything this uncomfortable for another person.

Becky looked off into the distance. "I don't think it would be better."

She turned and left.

Chris watched her go, trying to think of something he could have said that would have made this easier for Becky; something he could have done the set the groundwork for this better even if he'd stayed within the bonds of Polly's dictates. Everything and nothing, he thought. I could have done so much more to prepare her, but I couldn't have done anything to make it easier.

There was an imperiousness in Becky's att.i.tude that he'd never seen before. She was angry and upset, of course. How could she not be? But she had also been somewhat aloof in her response. Was this what she was going to be like during her teenage years? How much more difficult was that time going to be because of the divorce?

Becky was long out of sight when Chris finally realized he was still looking in the direction she'd gone. He blinked and looked down at the couch. He was somewhat surprised that Polly was still sitting there, figuring she would have bolted from sight the second Becky was gone. Was this something divorcing couples debriefed on afterward? That went well, don't you think? Chris guessed that it wasn't, at least when circ.u.mstances were as hostile as they were in this situation.

He slowly stood. "I'm going to get the rest of my stuff together," he said, immediately wis.h.i.+ng he hadn't even bothered to offer that much of an explanation.

An hour later, he'd packed his last couple of boxes in the car. Surprisingly, he felt hungry. How was it possible that he had an appet.i.te right now? Years ago, when he'd learned Becky was sick, he ate nothing other than a handful of pretzels for days. Maybe this was some kind of good sign. Maybe his body was telling him things were going to normalize much more quickly this time, that it wasn't necessary for his entire system to go completely out of whack. As shaky as he felt, he was surprised he could consider anything to be a good sign.

He thought about seeing if Becky wanted to go with him somewhere for an early lunch. It would give them a chance to talk now that she'd begun to process the news and now that he was finally free to openly discuss it with her.

But he knew there was no chance Polly would let him leave with their daughter, even for an hour. She'd been utterly intransigent about everything related to Chris's time with Becky; the custody conversation had been brutal, and she never relented from her original position. Chris's lawyer advised him to "live to fight another day," feeling that Polly's situation as a stay-at-home mother and Chris's long lab hours would afford her an enormous advantage in any family court battle. How much had he ceded to her by not even putting up a meaningful level of resistance?

Chris shut the trunk of his car and considered what he should do next. Hanging around the house seemed pointless, even if Becky came down from her room. It would be like waiting with someone as he made his way through the airport security line before embarking on a long international trip; nothing more than forestalling the inevitable. That would only make things worse for Becky, and he was rededicating himself at this moment to only making things better for her.

Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, he walked back inside the house. Polly was reading a magazine at the kitchen table a" something she never did a" and he pa.s.sed her without saying a word, climbing the stairs to Becky's room.

Her door was closed, and she invited him in when he knocked. He found her sitting on her bed playing her DS.

"I'm gonna get going," he said, finding even these words difficult to choke out.

She looked up from her game, pursed her lips, and nodded.

"I'll see you Wednesday. That's our night to have dinner together. Maybe we'll run by the apartment so you can see it."

"Yeah."

Chris took a step in her direction. "Listen, babe a""

"Are you heading off?"

Chris turned to see Polly standing in the doorway. His anger flared instantly, but he tamped it down. "Yes, I was just telling Becky."

"Okay," Polly said, making no move to leave them alone.

Chris suddenly saw his entire future flash in front of him. He walked over to Becky, hugged her tightly, and kissed the top of her head. "I'll call you tonight, okay?"

Becky nodded, and he hugged her again and then quickly turned to leave as emotion welled up inside him. He refused to look at Polly as he pa.s.sed her.

He opened his car door but didn't get in immediately, choosing instead to look around one more time. How was he going to reconcile the fact that this was no longer his home with all the memories he had of buying swing sets, lounging on the patio, and building snowmen?

As he opened the car door, he turned toward the window in Becky's room. She was there, watching him go.

Bye she mouthed when they made eye contact.

He blew her a quick kiss before slipping into the car. He looked in his side-view mirror as he headed down the driveway and saw her lift a hand and say, "Bye" again.

He managed to make it out of the neighborhood and into the parking lot of a nearby park before he allowed the feelings he'd been battling back to overwhelm him.

10.

Becky had been fighting sadness for the past hour or so, finding it surprisingly comforting to lose herself in her game system. But as her father's car disappeared down the street, she couldn't keep it together any longer. Her body shook as though letting out a giant hiccup, and then she just started crying like she had never cried before.

Almost instantly, Mom's arms were around her. She'd actually forgotten for a second that Mom was still in the room while she was looking out the window. All she could think about was that her father was driving away a" for good. Yeah, she'd see him again on Wednesday, but it wasn't the same thing. It would never be the same thing anymore.

Mom hugged her tightly and sat with her on the bed. As they sat, Becky buried her face in her mother's chest and stayed there for a long time, needing to feel this comfort. The tears slowed down after a while, but the sadness was as strong as ever.

"I wish I could have talked to you about this earlier," Mom said when Becky stopped sniffling and loosened the grip a little. "You have no idea how tough it was for me to hold this in."

Becky lifted her head and sat up straighter. If Mom wanted to talk to her about it and couldn't, did that mean Dad had been stopping her?

"I don't understand what happened."

"What happened is something I hope never happens to you when you're an adult. Your father and I married each other with the best of intentions, but even when you have the best intentions, sometimes things fall apart and you can't do anything to put them back together."

"And then our family falls apart."

Mom squeezed Becky tighter. "I don't want you to think of it as our family falling apart. We still have a very strong family, you and I, and nothing is ever going to change that. I promise you. Absolutely nothing is going to change that."

"But I'm gonna miss Dad."

Mom kissed the top of her head. "You're still going to see plenty of your dad. I made sure of that. What's most important to me is that you have the same home here that you always had, that you have your routines and your friends. I know some of this is going to be hard on you, honey, but I think having your normal life here will make it much easier than it could have been."

Becky thought about this, about how it was going to be nice to have a lot of things be the same when something this big was changing.

"Standridge seems kind of far away," Becky said, even though it wasn't that far at all; they went into Standridge all the time, and downtown Standridge was actually a cool place to walk around.

"I know what you mean. I was very surprised when your father said he wanted to get an apartment there. He could have lived in any number of apartments in Moorewood."

Mom shook her head, and Becky looked down at her white bedspread, following the patterns. "I'm still having trouble figuring out all of this."

"I know you are, honey. And we can talk about this all day if you want. I was hoping you'd be a little older before I started discussing adult relations.h.i.+ps with you, but things haven't turned out that way. The important thing is that you're old enough to comprehend this, and I know how important it is that you do."

Mom was handling this differently than Becky expected. It was good to know Mom was going to help her understand things, that she wasn't going to tell her that she was too young or that things would make more sense when she was grown up. This was so different from the way Dad had talked to her, even after everything was out in the open.

In that moment, Becky realized something she'd never realized before: while Mom was willing to treat her like a young adult, Dad still thought of her as a little kid. He wasn't willing to accept that she'd grown up, that she wasn't just the little girl who made up stories with him about make-believe places.

Becky also realized now that there was a way to change that. If Dad didn't want to stop thinking of her as a kid, then she was going to have to force him. He didn't get to make all the decisions about them anymore. As out-of-control as everything was feeling to Becky right now, she realized there were some things she a" and only she a" did control. She had to go with that.

The day got a little better after. It kind of had to, considering the way it started. Becky and Mom went for a walk where they didn't do much talking, but it felt good to move around and have Mom next to her. When they went back inside, they played a couple of games of Scattergories and ate an entire package of Girl Scout Samoa cookies and half a package of Tagalongs, eventually deciding they were going to call that dinner.

When they finished playing, they sat back on the couch and Mom put her arm around Becky's shoulders. Becky asked Mom to explain again what had happened between her and Dad, and again Mom talked to her like she was an adult, or at least a teenager. It made her even angrier to think about how Dad was handling this. She always thought they had a special relations.h.i.+p. But maybe the relations.h.i.+p was only special to Dad as long as she was his "little girl."

That time was over.

Becky found herself getting increasingly angry about this. Even when Mom put on the "Fantastic Four" DVD, popped up a big bowl of popcorn, and told her she could stay up a little later even though she had school tomorrow, Becky still kept thinking about how Dad was treating her like a baby and how completely wrong it was for him to do so.

By the time he called that night, she was in a foul mood.

"Hey, babe, was the rest of your day okay?" he said.

What kind of question was that? Hey, little girl, did you have fun after Daddy told you he was moving into an apartment in another town?

"It was okay," she said, trying to keep from freaking out.

"It's almost bedtime, right?"

She didn't want to get into the whole thing about Mom letting her stay up later. "Yeah, I guess I'll be going up in a few minutes."

He didn't say anything back right away. Was he expecting her to just sit on the other end of the phone? Did he think this would be like hanging together on the couch?