David quickly explained, “Dad, I didn’t mean
anything by it. It’s a hundred degrees out here.
I’m genuinely concerned about my little
brother.”
John frowned at Melissa. “Wait in the car. Don’t
come in.”
4
We submitted the divorce papers. Now we had
a one–month waiting period.
John pulled up in his car and called out to us.
“I’ll give you a ride.”
I was about to refuse, but David darted forward
and opened the car door. “Mom, get in! I’m
dying of heat.”
I had no choice but to get in. We sat in the
back, Melissa in the passenger seat, a place
that had been so familiar to me. She tugged at
く
John’s arm, her voice sugary sweet. “Honey,
where are we celebrating later?”
David leaned forward. “Melissa, how about The
Little Italy? Dad loves their food. He used to
take Mom and me there whenever something
good happened.”
I saw Melissa’s face darken in the rearview
mirror. I shouldn’t have, but I felt a little thrill of
satisfaction.
David wasn’t done. “Mom, where are we going
on our trip? Maybe not the beach. How about
Vegas? I heard it’s the city of second chances.
Maybe you’ll find yourself a new husband.”
John’s face tightened. “You’re planning a trip?” he asked, looking at me in the rearview mirror.
“Yeah.” I didn’t want to talk to him and turned
to look out the window.
“It’s good to get away,” he continued, talking to himself mostly. “Vegas is kind of overrated,
though. How about Hawaii? A friend of mine
owns a hotel in Waikiki.”
David leaned forward again. “Sure, Dad! Can we
get the friends and family discount? With how much we look alike, your friend will totally
recognize me as your son.”
John chuckled and ruffled David’s hair. “You’re
my son. Of course.”
They were having their little father–son bonding
moment, completely oblivious to Melissa’s face,
which had now turned the color of a
thundercloud.
5
LO
David and I went to Hawaii. As he put it, never
look a gift horse in the mouth. He was so
excited, he’d made a three–page itinerary. I
<
didn’t want to be a buzzkill, so I tried my best to
keep up with him.
A thirteen–year–old boy is a bundle of energy.
Days were filled with parasailing, surfing, and
snorkeling. Evenings were spent at night
markets, catching little sand crabs. By the end
of each day, I felt like my bones were about to
fall apart. I would crash as soon as my head hit
the pillow, too exhausted to even think about
the sadness of my divorce.
When we got back, I wanted to relax, but David
had opinions about my cooking. “Mom, your
cooking…it’s not bad, it’s just…predictable.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “You’ve been eating
my cooking for years, and now you’re
complaining?”
He scratched his head, grinning. “Not
complaining, just saying it could use some
variety. If you spiced things up, I’d eat myself to
“Get out of here,” I laughed, swatting his cheek.
After all this time, I finally understood. He was
going out of his way to keep me busy so I
wouldn’t have time to dwell on the divorce. I
ght have made a bad choice in husbands, but
I had struck gold with my son. What was there
to be sad about?
