Broken Home by Kim Mills

Author:Kim Mills [Mills, Kim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-09T16:00:00+00:00

8

Jeremy

I know Juliette is taking her shopping today, but with Deb calling late morning for me to pick the girls up, I completely forget. Especially once I get to the house, when she starts in on me before I even manage to get all the way out of my truck.

“Took you long enough, Jer. Karl and I have reservations at two, I told you that!” I take a deep breath before swinging myself to the driveway and turning to face Deb, who has on what I’m assuming passes for a dress on a twenty-one-year-old looking for attention under the dim lights at a bar, but it looks more like a desperate cry for help on a thirty-six-year-old mom in her driveway under the mid-afternoon sun.

I’ve never been one to shame a woman for her choice in clothing, but Deb never used to try this hard. The boobs she bought after I got back from Cyprus, the hair that manages to get longer without the passage of time, the skin I worry will shrivel from cancer after all the time she spends under fake lights… it doesn’t manage to look good, instead just desperate.

I take a deep breath and remind myself that I’m not who she’s trying to impress, and she’s allowed to look however she wants.

“Deb, I had to run errands this morning. I do have things I plan on the weekends I don’t have the girls.”

“Oh please, you only have them on weekends anyways.”

“I also have a job, Deb. I own a business. Look, I don’t mind having the girls any time you want but if you don’t give me a warning, sometimes it will take me more than thirty minutes to drop everything and pick them up.”

“They’re old enough on their own for a little while now anyways…”

“No, Deb. I mean, they are, for a short time, but last time, Sharla had those boys over again, and I’m not okay with that. Just call me, Deb, when you need me, and I’ll be here. You and Karl can fuck off wherever you want.” I know the last bitter statement is going to cause trouble, but it’s out of my mouth before I have the chance to bite it back.

“You know what, Jer? At least we go places together. At least he tries, all right? Reminds me that I’m not just some useless baby-making machine that waits at home. Makes me feel good.”

Another deep breath. We’ve already had this conversation, too many times to count, and I don’t need a reminder this morning at the ways I failed as a husband.

“I’m happy for you, Deb. Are the girls ready to go?”

“They’ve been ready for an hour.” She stomps back in the house, and I decide it’s in my best interest that I wait out by the truck. She’s in a mood and the one good thing out of divorce is I no longer have to deal with that. A few moments later, the girls bound out.

“Dad! You’re so late, I didn’t think you’d come!” I feel the rage build.

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