Things We Didn't Say

Chapter 24

Michael



When my dad pulls into the driveway, Casey’s in the shower. I go upstairs to knock on the bathroom door.

“Yeah?” she says.

“Hey, babe,” I say loudly over the sound of the water. “My dad’s here, we’re heading out.”

She pokes her wet head around the curtain. Tendrils of hair are stuck to her forehead. Makes me want to grab her face and kiss her.

“I’ll see if Mallory will go home. Give you some space.”

“See if she will? How about sending her. Dylan’s fine, and this isn’t her house anymore.”

My head starts to throb, and I pinch the bridge of my nose.

When I look at Casey again, her face has sagged with resignation. “Sorry. It’s fine.” She pulls the shower curtain back in place with less force than before. “I’ll be fine,” she says over the spray.

I have more to say, but it’s hard to talk over the water.

We’ll talk when I get back, about many things that we’ve put off for too long.


I bribe Jewel with a trip to get doughnuts Sunday morning if she does her homework like a good girl, and make the same offer to Angel, only with lattes.

Angel nods, and then announces she’s going to take a nap. I can see that she’s caked makeup over the bluish hollows under her eyes. I give her a tight hug before she goes.

Mallory is making fresh coffee in the kitchen.

“So,” I say, pulling on my coat and peering toward the front of the house to see if Dad has pulled up. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

Mallory is radiant. I haven’t seen her like this since she was pregnant with each kid. “I know! Thank God.”

“So, listen, I can drop you off at your apartment on our way.”

She stops in mid-pour of the coffee. She tries to shove it back in the coffeemaker and misses, sloshing hot coffee all over the counter.

She puts her hand on her hip, eyes squeezed to slits. “Are you throwing me out?”

“The crisis is over.”

“So? I want to be here when he gets home. I don’t want to miss a minute. In fact, I’d insist on going with you if your father didn’t hate me worse than Hitler.”

“I’ll pick you up then, on the way back. You’ll see him even quicker, in the car.”

She looks up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly. “You are throwing me out. I cannot believe after what we’ve been through the last forty-eight hours—”

“This isn’t your house!” As always with Mallory, my voice is louder than I mean it to be.

“So Casey wants me out, is that it? Can’t handle the ex hanging around? Please. As if I’d want you back.”

“You don’t need to be here.”

“I want to be here, isn’t that enough? What were you saying yesterday, about how of course you want me to spend more time with the kids? If this has taught me anything, it’s that I’ve been too cavalier. Yes, fine, I admit it. I’ve been inconsistent about parenting time. I get migraines, and you know when I don’t feel well what it’s like for me. And for them.” She pauses to stare at me, hard, making sure I understand her code. “But I’ve been through hell, these last two days. That’s my boy, my baby, I carried him in my womb and I thought we’d lost him. Let me unwind with my girls, Mike.”

“So you’re feeling well now? For how long?”

“F*ck off. I’m asking you a favor, and don’t think this isn’t humiliating for me, to have to beg to stay in the house that used to be mine to spend time with my own daughters, just so your new little girlfriend doesn’t feel any discomfort.” She makes a mock-sweet face and adds, “I promise not to cause any trouble.”

“Mal . . .”

“You want me to beg? Does that make you feel like a big man? Okay, fine.”

She gets down on her knees in front of me, hands balled up together as in prayer.

“Jesus, Mal. Get up. Fine. But, listen—”

“Daylight’s burning, Mike!” shouts my dad from the living room, and I have to leave it there.


My dad is ruffling Jewel’s hair as she hangs off his leg.

“Hey, Dad. Thanks.”

“All gassed up, warmed up, Cleveland programmed into the GPS. Your mother whipped up some sandwiches for the road.”

I check my watch. Four o’clock. It’ll be the dead of night before we get there, the wee hours before we get back, assuming we turn right around and don’t stay the night somewhere.

Casey has appeared now, hair slightly damp, smelling like something sweet and floral. I check back over my shoulder. Mallory has remained behind me in the kitchen, sopping up the spilled coffee.

“Hi, Dr. Turner,” Casey says.

“Hello, dear,” he replies politely. Courtly, almost, with that little nod of his head.

I wish he’d tell her not to call him by his title.

“Angel’s napping,” I explain to my dad.

I give Jewel another enormous hug, telling her to stay warm and do her homework and that she should go to sleep like a good girl tonight. “Listen to your mom. And Casey.”

I pull Casey in for a hug, but she’s stiff in my arms. She returns the hug, but it’s with formality. For show.

“Sorry,” I whisper in her ear. “Just one more day.”

Her smile is thin as she waves at me.

I walk out of my childhood home into my dad’s huge car and into the passenger seat, with snacks packed by my mother, and wonder if I’ll ever shake off this déjà vu.