So I Tell Him

“Daddy, Mom and I

will be fine!

Truly we will.”

But even as I say this

with a great big smile,

I can’t help thinking:

A month without my mom

isn’t all that long

for my dad and me.

Two weeks without my dad

will be an eternity

for my mom and me.

On the Way to the Airport on Sunday Morning

Nobody talks very much,

except for my dad.

“Betsy, at least I’ll be back in plenty of time

to see my flower in the play.”

“Kathleen, don’t let those clowns get you down.”

Only he says a different word for clowns.

“I sure hope I can find a way to help Aunt Etta

stay in that wreck of a house.”

“I’ll call every night, okay?”

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Well, I guess we’re here.”

Mom pulls up to the curb

where all the other cars are pulling up

to drop off all the other people.

Mom and I get out of the car to hug him,

and I know that none of those other people

are going to miss their other people

as much as we’re going to miss him.

The First Night without Dad

It’s okay.

My mother lights candles for dinner

the way she always does, even though

now there are only two of us.

She asks me how the play is going.

“Fine,” I say.

“Maybe you’ll meet some new friends there,”

she says hopefully.

I don’t tell her that I already have.

Well, just one, and not technically a new friend,

because Zoey and I were already friends,

but not the way we are getting to be now.

If I said that, it would make me

feel sad for Lizard.

“Maybe,” I echo instead.

I clear the table and load the dishwasher.

She puts the leftover quiche and salad away.

I practice a Chopin nocturne

while she grades linguistics exams.

“Betsy, that sounds beautiful!”

she tells me when I’m done.

Nocturnes are sad, lonely music,

but somehow they make a sad, lonely evening

a little bit less sad and lonely

because the music knows how to say

what my mother and I

are both feeling inside.

When Dad’s special ringtone

sounds on her cell phone,

we both run to the table to get it,

and even pretend to push and shove

to be the one to get it first.

And when I win the phone grab

and hear Dad’s voice,

everything is even better than okay.

Snacks for the Club

“What kind of food do people eat in Guernsey?”

Lizard asks, when we’re at her house

after school on Monday.

We got there later than usual today

because we spent half an hour

with two rolls of masking tape

putting up fifty save guernésiais! posters

on every surface at Southern Peaks Middle School

where kids can put up posters.