Chapter Eighteen

Paper, Paper, Get Your Paper!

“Sweet Pea,” my mom coos in my ear.

I lie curled on my side with Cheese purring into my chest. “Noooo,” I moan. “Just ten more minutes.”

Mom squeezes into my twin bed, making a Cheese sandwich. He lets out a low yowl and repositions himself on top of my feet.

“How is it already Thursday?” Mom asks. “At least I get Thursday this week.”

I almost say something sarcastic about how maybe we wouldn’t have to split my days between the both of them if they’d just figured out a way to stay together. But I don’t say anything because for Mom, the divorce was some kind of major failure. Like, not only were things messed up between her and Dad, but what kind of therapist can’t even keep her own family together? I think that’s where her mirror-house theory came from. If she was going to fail, at least she could be really good at it.

The day Mom and Dad sat me down to tell me they were getting a divorce, I knew immediately something was up. They waited until after Christmas, and the thought of that—them deciding to give me one last Christmas with us all together—makes me feel a little lucky and a little sad at the same time. It was a Sunday morning in January, and I woke up to the smell of cinnamon rolls. The homemade kind. Mom and Dad always made breakfast, but never something like this that was basically all dessert.

They let me finish one whole cinnamon roll before Mom said, “Sweet Pea, we have something to tell you.” I froze and looked up at them.

Dad took Mom’s hand. Mom always had to do the serious stuff, so I remember thinking it was so weird that Dad was the one to drop the news. “You know your mother and I love each other very much. We love you most of all. But Mom and I have decided not to live together anymore, which is why we’re getting a divor—”

Mom coughed loudly, the kind of cough that sounded fake.

Dad gave her a look and then tried again. “Your mother and I have decided to end our marriage.”

I guess for whatever reason my mom had some issue with the D word. It took me a minute to get what he was saying, but then all at once his words sank in, and all I felt was the hollowness of shock in my chest. This was the last thing I’d expected. I had even thought maybe Mom was pregnant or that we were moving. Mom had always talked about teaching at a university. But this? Mom and Dad getting a divorce? I couldn’t believe it.

Nothing about it made sense. They were happy. We were happy. “W-w-why?” I asked, brimming with tears. “What happened?”

Mom looked to Dad, like that was his cue.