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The Force of Gravity(41)

By:Kelly Stevenson


“Really? What happened? Your dad said you had a great time at prom.”

I play with the zipper on my bag. “I did. It’s a lot of stuff. I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”

“Well, you kids will work it out. He’s perfect for you.”

I give her a sideways glance. “He’s perfect for me?”

“Yes. He’s a great kid. And you two look so cute together.”

I roll my eyes and gaze out the window. I wish I could introduce her to Elijah.

She pulls into the parking lot of a little café, and I peer through the windshield. The place is packed with old people. “This is where you want to talk?”

“Yeah, is this okay? I figured we could get a bite to eat.”

I shrug and follow her inside. It’s a cutesy little place, plastered with doilies and frilly tablecloths, and I feel like I’ve been transported to a tea party in the 1800s. A tall, gray-haired woman leads us to a tiny table that reminds me of something that belongs in a dollhouse and hands us our menus. There’s an entire page dedicated to the tea selections, so I’m not far off about the tea party vibe. I close my menu and set it aside.

“You already know what you want?” asks my mom.

“I’m not hungry,” I say.

When the woman returns to take our orders, my mom smiles. “We’ll share a platter of the cucumber sandwiches and a side of fruit kabobs. I’ll have an iced tea, and Kaley?”

“Water’s fine,” I say.

“Lemon?” says the woman.

I shrug. “Sure.” She gives me a disapproving look before turning away. It’s clear my manners aren’t up to her standards.

My mom leans her elbows on the table. “Look, Kay. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I forgot about your prom. I will never forgive myself for being absent on your special day. It was the worst timing to walk out on your father.”

“So you really walked out on him?” I ask. “Dad almost made it seem mutual.”

“Well . . . it’s complicated.”

The woman drops off our beverages, and my mom takes a sip of her iced tea before continuing.

“Your father and I got together very young,” she says.

“Yes, you’ve told me this story,” I say. “You got pregnant with me, and I ruined both of your lives. Got it.”

She lowers her brows. “You did not ruin our lives. You are my joy. Your father adores you and would do anything for you. So would I. This is not your fault.”

“I know it’s not, Mom, but you make me feel that way when you say crap like that.” I sit back and chase the lemon wheel with my straw. I can’t even drink this. I despise lemon in my water and don’t know why I said yes to it.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

The woman returns with our food and asks if we need anything else. I shake my head and she leaves us alone. I watch my mom pick up a delicate cucumber sandwich between her fingers and stare at it, her eyes glossing over.

I lean forward. “Look, Mom. I’m sorry. I know you must’ve been really unhappy with Dad. I just wish you would’ve at least tried. I mean, you wouldn’t even go to counseling.”

“It was too late by the time he started going,” she says, almost in a whisper.

“What does that mean?”

“Never mind. It’s complicated.”

I let out an exasperated sigh and lean back. “I am an adult, Mom. If you say it’s complicated one more time, I’m going to lose it. I’m graduating in a few weeks; I’ll be nineteen this summer—I’m not a child. What is so complicated that I wouldn’t understand? That you just fell out of love? That you were never in love? What?”

“Kaley,” she says, her face solemn. “I had an affair.”

“You . . . what?” The air is pulled out of me, and I cup my mouth.

“Your father and I have had issues for years, and I had an affair six months ago. I finally told your father . . . although I think he always knew.”

I drop my hand in my lap. My stomach churns, and I’m grateful I decided against eating. “Wait. He always knew? You said that you walked out. Are you saying he still wanted you to stay after that?”

“Yes. Well, he wanted me to stay until I told him it was an ongoing affair, and that . . . that it’s still ongoing.”

My queasiness transmutes into anger. “Are you telling me you’re still with this prick?” I say, glaring across the table. She doesn’t bother reprimanding my language. “What does this mean? Are you in a relationship with him?” Hot, furious tears invade my vision, and I try to blink them away, but they quickly overflow. I snatch a doily off the table and wipe my eyes.

She nods. “Yes, Kaley, I am.”

My chair scrapes against the floor as I stand up. “I can’t do this here. I need to leave.”

She tosses a wad of cash on the table and follows me out to the car. I crumple into my seat, unable to look at her.

“Please don’t hate me,” she says once we’re on the road. “I was just so miserable for so long—I know that’s not an excuse. But, I just wish you could understand.”

I push back the tears and stare out the window. “I don’t hate you, Mom. But how can you expect me to understand? This is my father we’re talking about.”

“I know,” she says. “I just hope someday you will.” Her voice is so quiet, I’m not sure it was meant for me to hear.

“I can’t believe you thought taking me to a public place was a good idea to break the news.”

“I hadn’t planned on telling you today, sweetie. I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, I feel torn between my parents. She wants me to understand, but I can’t help feeling loyal to my father. It would be the same if it was the other way around, and it was my dad who cheated. I know she’s expecting me to understand her as a woman, in the same way I understand Emily. But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m her daughter, and I just found out she’s been cheating on my father. I feel like I’m being ripped in two.

“I’ll be moving back into the house soon,” she says, breaking the silence.

I turn to her. “What?”

“Your dad will be getting a condo, and I’ll be staying in the house.”

“And where will I be?”

She glances at me. “Well, I hope you’ll be staying with me while you go to ASU.”

Unbelievable.

She pulls into the driveway, and I have my door open before the car comes to a complete stop.

“Kaley!” she calls out.

My chin trembles as I force myself to meet her pleading eyes. “I don’t hate you, okay?” I say, my voice cracking. “I just need some time.”

I slam the door and bolt into the house.





CHAPTER TWENTY



I SPRINT UP THE STAIRS as fast as my legs will allow, slamming my bedroom door behind me. My limbs become jelly, and I crumple to the floor like a deflated balloon. I cry out from the deepest part of my being, pulling a pillow from my bed to muffle my sobs. I let my agony release into the pillow as I clutch my stomach, wanting to claw out my insides to alleviate the pain.

I never knew I could feel this way about my parents. It’s not like I didn’t have some warning, but they’re the only family I really have. My dad’s family lives hours away, and my mom’s family is out of state. Up until recently, my parents have been my whole world. But this is more painful than I anticipated—in my gut, I knew they’d been headed for a divorce, and I’ve been trying to accept their separation, but I never predicted this from my mother. It devastates me that she’s done this to my father. He’s far from perfect, but at least he tries. He doesn’t deserve this—our family doesn’t deserve this. I always wondered why she wouldn’t consider counseling. Now I know it’s because she doesn’t want it to work.

She wants someone else.

My bedroom door squeaks open, and seconds later I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“She told you, didn’t she,” says my dad.

My shoulders quake as I wail into my soggy pillow. He sits beside me, rubbing my back.

“I’m sorry, Kaley,” he says. “I asked her not to say anything.”

I snap my head up and wipe the tears and snot off my face with the edge of the pillow. “Why would you want to protect her like that?”

“I was trying to protect you, Kay. I knew it would hurt you too much. And I didn’t want you to think less of your mother; she’s a good person.”

“How can you sit there and be so rational about this, Dad? What about you? Aren’t you hurt? Are you okay?” I burst into tears again and lay my head in his lap.

When I’m with my mother, I’m a woman. When I’m with my dad, a little girl. . . .The real me is stuck somewhere in between.

He strokes my hair as I gasp for air between sobs.

“I’m okay,” he says. “Of course it hurts, but I’ll be fine. It’s not solely on your mother for the fall of our marriage. It’s more complex than that.”

“I hate this.”

“I know you do, Kay.”

“Why are you letting her keep the house?”

He sighs. “I want you to stay in the house you grew up in, and you need to be with your mom.”