Every Wrong Reason(87)

31. I love him.




My mom called later in the day. She wanted to know how mediation went. She wanted me to get the dog.

I didn’t want to move for the next forty years.

“How did it go?” she asked impatiently.

“Not well.”

“Are you divorced?” Her tone was panicked and concerned. She rarely sounded panicked or concerned. “Is it final?”

I sniffled. “No. No, it’s not final.” I didn’t explain to her that we couldn’t have finalized it in mediation. That there were more steps to it than this. It didn’t matter now because if I had any say about it, I would never take those steps. Nick would have to go on living his life forever anchored to me. I would be the ball and chain that never let him move on.

He’d have to become a polygamist if he wanted to get married again.

Oh, god, what if he wanted to get married again?

I collapsed back to my side and let out a high-pitched whimper. “Kate? Katherine? What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I couldn’t go through with it,” I cried.

“Go through with what?” Her patience had run out. She had started shrieking.

“The divorce, Mom! I couldn’t go through with the divorce!”

“Oh.” Her tone evened out and she sounded obnoxiously pleased. “Well, that’s a good thing.”

I started crying harder. It wasn’t a good thing if Nick still wanted one.

“Oh, Kate,” she sighed. “It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to work out.”

She had never said that before. Not once since I told her Nick and I were going to end things.

“How do you know?” I croaked.

“Because you love each other. Because you went through some hard times, but you’ve never stopped loving each other.”

Ladies and gentlemen, my mother, the closet romantic.

I propped myself up on my elbow. Some of my tears dried and I took a steadying breath. “He didn’t say he didn’t want to end the divorce. He might still want one.”

“He doesn’t,” she said confidently.

“How do you know?”

She sighed again, only this time I could hear the smile in her voice. “Because he’s a good man, honey. He’s a good man that loves you.”

“I thought you hated him?”

“Katherine Claire, I am your mother. I always want what’s best for you. I suppose we were a little harsh with Nick because… well, because I didn’t think he was giving you the life you deserved. But when you left him, I realized I was wrong.” She cleared her throat while my entire world tipped on its axis. Did my mother just say she was wrong? Had I prayed a little too hard for that zombie apocalypse? “In comparison to your life of loneliness, he was the best thing for you. No matter what his profession.”

I let the passive aggressive digs slide and said honestly, “Thanks, mom.”

“I love you, Kate.”

“I love you too.” I sat up fully and added, “I can’t come to dinner every Sunday though. It’s too much. I love you and dad, but I can only make it once a month.”

“Twice.”

“What?”

“Come twice a month and I won’t bug you about it again.”

“Okay,” I laughed. “I’ll come twice.”

“We can keep the dog another night, too. Your father has grown really attached. I think I’m going to have to buy him one by the end of it.”

I blamed my heartbroken exhaustion, but nothing she was saying was making sense. “Buy him what?”

“A dog,” she muttered. “Like this one. I might have to hit it with my car too just so he can feel needed.”

“Who?”

“Your father, Kate. Keep up! He won’t watch TV anymore unless the dog is curled up on his lap. It’s ridiculous. You should see the way he babies it! You’ll help me find the right breed, won’t you?”

Feeling sufficiently exhausted and completely weirded out, I nodded. Then I realized she couldn’t see me and so I said, “Oh, okay. If you think he really wants one.”

My dad had never loved anything in his life. Not even me! Okay, that wasn’t true. But small animals were definitely not on his short list. They ranked right under traffic for things he could not tolerate.

I couldn’t picture him cuddled up with Annie.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to picture him cuddled up with Annie.

“Alright, get some sleep. Your dad will bring the dog back to you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, mom.”

She clicked off and I dropped my phone on the cushion beside me. That was the most bizarre conversation I had ever had with my mother.

It beat the birds and the bees talk she tried to have with me when I was fourteen.

It had been too late by that point. I went to public school and there was this thing called TV.

I knew everything I needed to know.

I figured the logistics out later. As God and my sanity intended.

I felt oddly at peace then. Everything wasn’t quite so dismal. My mom believed Nick still loved me, so that had to mean something, right?

That peace carried me through the rest of the day and eventually I was able to get up off the couch and at least change clothes.