Page 36 of Trouble from Abroad
Jesus, fuck. This sounds like when you tell your kid the dog went for an endless vacation on a farm. Did I let my daughter think her mother was dead?
“Sweetheart, she’s…”
“Gone.”
I’m the worst father who ever wandered this Earth.How do I make this go from irreparable to just a little less awful?
“Callie told me,” she adds quietly. My pulse spikes, hot and ugly. Well, someone’s going to be dead by the end of the day.
“I asked her one night ’cause I knew something was wrong,” she goes on, pushing a slice of banana around her plate with her fork. “I knew Mommy wasn’t away like you said.”
My stomach churns, while I try to breathe evenly. Lily asked me, but I didn’t answer, so she turned to Callie.
Anger isn’t the point right now—Lily is.
“She sat with me on the couch and told me that… sometimes moms don’t stay… sometimes they get lost.” Her posture softens, eyes still fixed on her plate. “Not ’cause they don’t love you, but ’cause they forget how to be the mom they used to be.”
Lily picks at the banana again, then adds, almost in a whisper, “She said Mommy’s just… being someone else now.” Her words wobble at the edges. “And maybe she won’t come back.” There’s a long pause. My chest is splintering, but I let her have all the time she needs. I don’t think she’s finished. “Callie promised me it wasn’t my fault.” Her voice lifts just a little, steadier. “And she hugged me really tight and said I could ask her anything whenever I feel weird or sad.”
Fuck me, Callie’s done it again. That woman has more lives than a cat, and I couldn’t love my friend any more if I tried. I’ll still tell Calista to give me a heads up next time. But she caught my daughter when I dropped the ball.
I couldn’t have put it any better. Blake decided to be someone new, and that didn’t include me or Lily.
When she finally glances up at me, I see a tiny flicker of a smile peeking through. “And I did feel better. For a bit.” She shifts in her seat—half coy, half entirely too grown-up for her age. “Callie’s given me so many plushies since… I don’t wanna be rude, but there’s no more room for them in my room, Dad. That net is going to break.”
“I’ll talk to her. Or build you more shelves. Whatever you want.”
“Is it okay if I don’t want to talk about it with you?” She can’t hold my gaze, and it kills me.
“It is. But I need to know if you don’t want to talk about it at all, or just not with me. There’s no wrong answers, Lil.”
“Hmmmm.” She taps the middle of her forehead, the way she always does when she wants to show she’s thinking hard. “Both. But mostly with you. I see how sad you get when someone talks about her.”
My hand tightens around the mug. Of course she noticed. She always does.
Sometimes I swear she’s got a seventy-year-old wise monk living inside her. “Okay, but I think talking about your feelings is important.” There are blinking lights pointing at me with the wordhypocrite. So bright, they warm my skin to the point that I might break a sweat. “So, I’m going to book someone you can talk to about anything you’re feeling, thinking… someone really cool, who’s a great listener. They’re called psychologists.”
Lily looks curious and open enough to the idea. I know exactly where I got her. That chatterbox daughter of mine is always keen to have someone listen to her.
“You know what, Lil? I’m going to find myself one of those, too,” I say, lying through my teeth, but hoping to encourage her. Lead by example, and all that. Also, it’s part of Mia’s wacko plan, too.
The lie is in the tense.
I’ve been seeing my psychologist for the past month.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
preston
I tryto save the day as best I can. We hit Lily’s favorite playgrounds, catch a movie, and I let her have more sugar than she would have if she’d been trick or treating. We wrap it up with a stop at the toy store, where she picks one thing and makes a full list for her birthday.
She asks for fried chicken for dinner, and that’s our final stop before I bring her home, happier than she was at breakfast, tummy full, and half asleep.
When we get back, Mia’s curled upon the couch with her laptop balanced on her knees. She glances up, smiling, and it hits me how comforting that’s already become. Just her… being here.
“Go brush your teeth, Lil. I’ll be there in a second.” I sink down beside Mia, rubbing the back of my neck. “We talked.” She lifts an eyebrow, waiting. “She took it better than I expected,” I admit.
Mia smiles, appearing unsurprised, but she doesn’t sayI told you solike I would have.
