Save the Date(110)

“I think . . . ,” Danny started, then let out a long breath. “Is it time?”

“Sheridan,” my mother said, her voice low and serious, warning, and I was starting to get a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“Let’s not do this now,” my dad said, an equally serious note in his voice as he stared hard at Danny. “Okay?”

“What’s going on?” Linnie asked. “Don’t do what now?”

“I have no idea,” J.J. said, and from Rodney’s expression, it seemed like he didn’t know either.

“It’s not the time,” my mom said, starting to gather up plates, finality in her tone, like she’d just put a period at the end of a sentence.

“Whatever it is, just tell us,” Mike said, sounding disgusted. “Can we please just tell the truth in this family, for once?” My parents exchanged a loaded look. I turned to Danny, ready for him to give me a smile, letting me know there was really nothing to worry about—but he was bent forward over his knees, clenching his hands together.

“Mom?” I asked.

“What’s going on?” J.J. asked, all his bravado gone, looking somehow younger than he had in years.

“Come on—what’s happening here?” Linnie asked, a nervous note in her voice. “Are you—is someone sick?”

“No,” my dad said immediately, and my mother shook her head. “God no, nothing like that.”

“I’m fine,” my mother said emphatically. “Your father’s fine.”

“Someone needs to tell us what’s going on!” J.J. yelled, his voice cracking on the last word.

“They’re getting a divorce,” Danny said, still hunched over his hands, his voice tired. “That’s what’s going on.”

There was silence in the room, a silence that felt heavy, like it was taking up all the air—you couldn’t even hear anyone breathe.

I looked between my mom and dad, feeling my breath caught somewhere in my chest, repeating the words no please no over and over in my head like a prayer or a mantra, something you say to keep the bad things at bay. Maybe I had heard wrong. Maybe I’d misunderstood. Maybe Danny had misunderstood because this wasn’t—this couldn’t—

“We,” my dad said, glancing over at my mom, who was staring down at the carpet, her bottom lip trembling. “This wasn’t how we wanted to do this. . . .”

Even though I was sitting down, I suddenly understood why people who get bad news in movies are always collapsing to the ground. I knew somehow that if I’d tried to stand up right then, my legs would not have held me. Nor, it seemed, should they—my parents had just pulled my world out from under my feet.

“It’s not that we won’t always be a family,” my mother said, speaking fast, like she was just trying to get this over with. “That won’t ever change. We’re going to take some time, try a separation. . . .”

“And our priority will always be the happiness of you kids,” my dad said now, leaning toward us. Now they were speaking more quickly, and I had a feeling they’d rehearsed this—suddenly, they were actors in a play who’d finally gotten to a section of the lines they knew cold. “And it has nothing to do with any of you. It’s just . . .” He made a vague gesture with his hands, spreading them outward for a second, like that would help us see why a thirty-five-year marriage was ending. “One of those things,” he finished.

“Why did they tell you?” J.J. was staring at Danny, all his confidence and flash gone, which was as heartbreaking as anything that was happening here. It was like seeing my brother without his protective armor, so much smaller and so much more easily hurt.

“I’m only a year younger than Danny,” Linnie said, shaking her head. “And you didn’t think I could handle it?”

“Is that really important right now?” Danny asked, shaking his head. “Who knew what?”

“It’s important to me,” J.J. said, glaring at Danny.

“I handle their finances,” Danny said. He sounded exhausted, like he had no more fight left in him. “They needed me to start dividing up assets so that this process could go more smoothly.”

“So you’re not just ‘separating,’?” J.J. said, putting half-hearted air quotes around the word. “You guys are getting a divorce. It’s been decided.”

My parents glanced at each other and then away. Neither spoke, which seemed to be all the confirmation we needed. I turned to my siblings, who all, with the exception of Danny, looked as shell-shocked by this as I was.

“This is why,” I said, and I could hear my voice coming out scratchy, like it had been a long time since I’d spoken. It had been another lifetime ago. I took a breath and tried again. “This is why you’re selling the house.” As soon as I’d said it, another, bigger realization hit me. “This is why you’re ending the strip.”

“Of course she’s ending it now,” Mike said, shaking his head at me. “You can’t write about the perfect family when you’re in the process of breaking it up.”

“Like you’re even one to talk,” I said, louder than I knew I was going to, the words coming out of my mouth before I could think them through. “I don’t think you can even have an opinion on this when you haven’t been home for eighteen months.”