Maybe this is therapeutic. Maybe this is exactly what they need. Because Evan’s coming down off his toes. And his shrieking slowly transitions from glass-shattering to little-boy fun. Maybe this will turn out okay after all. Maybe this will be my lucky day.

Michael’s soaked. He’s laughing, declaring defeat. “You have gotten strong,” he tells Evan. “Here, I’m gonna stand in a sunbeam and dry off.”

Evan hesitates, unsure if his father is leaving now, disappearing forever. But when Michael remains standing at the edge of the deck, eight feet away, Evan finally relaxes. He gets busy with his fire engines and I join Michael outside.

“He’s calming down,” Michael says softly. “Managing his emotions better than I thought.”

“Some days are like that,” I say.

“And other days?”

“I administered Ativan five times last week.”

Michael looks at me. For once, he doesn’t seem distant or angry. He seems tired. Maybe he looks as tired as I feel. Or maybe that’s only my wishful thinking. “I didn’t come here to fight,” he begins, so naturally, I brace myself. “You’re going to do what you’re going to do. I’ve come to accept that, Victoria. Whether we’re married or not, you’re Evan’s mother and you’re going to do what you think is best for him, regardless of my opinions on the subject.”

“What’s best for him,” I repeat stubbornly.

“Sure. But, Victoria …” He spreads his hands. “For your own sake … how can you go on like this? For every good moment, there’s gotta be half a dozen more when you’re pulling out your hair. Every day is about trying to hold off the inevitable explosion, then picking up the pieces afterward. You don’t get time for yourself. You don’t get time with your daughter. Chelsea misses you, you know. One night a week isn’t what a six-year-old needs from her mom.”

“You said you didn’t come here to fight.”

Michael sighs, drops his hands. “I’m trying to find some middle ground. For Chelsea’s sake. For Evan’s sake. For all of our sakes.”

“Such as?”

“Chelsea’s therapist thinks—”

“Chelsea has a therapist?”

Michael appears bewildered. “Of course she has a therapist. It was part of the terms of the divorce.”

“I didn’t realize … I thought you had a different opinion on that subject.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Victoria, I’m not a total asshole.” His voice has grown hard. Evan immediately stares at us from the pool, body tensing, as if ready to join the battle. Which side would he take? His father’s; no doubt in my mind.

Michael, however, waves him off. “Sorry, buddy. Just telling some story from work. Hey, I see another fire engine over there on the deck. Maybe that one can help the others with the rescue operation.”