Page 41 of Double Exposure

“And he trusts you?”

Now Mom spreads her arms. “What are you getting at?”

“Well, if you both travel all the time, I mean you must meet lots of people—”

“Oh, for God's sake, Jade, you’re so dramatic.”

This sets me off and I have to swallow a retort. I have worked very hard not to be dramatic. A nature photographer can’t make sudden moves.

“My childhood was spent waiting for one or the other of you.”

Her legs swing to the floor. “Where are you going with this? You think your father is unfaithful?

“No, but—”

“You think I’m unfaithful?”

“Mom, you're with top people in the arts and then he's out in the field? You know? I don't know.”

“There’s this thing called a commitment.”

“But you can let that go now. I’m an adult.”

She looks so confused I feel compelled to go on. “When, you're together—” I pause. I don’t want to hurt her by saying the wrong thing, but I also want her to realize . . . realize what?

“What? What about when we're together? Is it acrimonious? Do we fight? What do you see?” Her lips press together. “How dare you say we aren’t happy.” Rage has moved her past her tears. She’s pissed.

“Listen, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I had this wrong.”

“Well, it's not that you had it wrong, but apparently, you've had it wrong your entire childhood. And it just feels makes me feel like I failed you as a mother and Ken failed you as a father.”

“No,” I say. “I love you both so much. I just always felt that you know, you just had different lives.”

“We do have different lives. That's the point. And we still love and respect each other and we come together. You know we're each gone six months out of the year. Haven't you ever noticed that? Six months. We committed to that a long time ago. That neither one of us would be away from more than each other for more than half a year. And that one of us would always be with you. That's how we do this,” she says. “That's how we organized our lives.”

“I guess I thought I was picking up on something. We weren't like other families.”

“We're not like other families,” she says. “Your friends all had mothers who stayed home and made cupcakes and went to the PTA meetings.”

I start to open my mouth.

“Let me finish, and if they worked outside the home, they had to do some kind of heroic juggle to make it all happen.” She pauses and her voice drops. “I can’t juggle like that. They also had dads who worked for Lockheed. Or you know, Raytheon or the military. I don't. Your dad doesn't do those things. His work means he travels. When he was away, I was a single mother.”

“So, the six month split.”

“Oh Jade, it was never consecutive—the year was carved up and it was six months at the most. And you were with one of us all the time.”

“Didn’t you miss each other?”

“When I’m with your father, I come alive.” She pauses for just a moment as if trying to decide what to say next. She takes a deep breath. “He's a man.”

“Well, I know he’s a—”

“He’s an incredibly loving person.”

“I know he is, Mom, I mean—”

“To me.”