“Where’s Mommy?” Zoe asked, her voice sounding even smaller than usual.
A mixture of alarm and curiosity made me pause. Aubrey’s ass had flowed over and cratered in the deteriorated cushion of that office chair for years. No noise in the kitchen, and the downstairs bathroom door was open, the room dark.
“Aubrey!” I yelled from the second step of the stairs, waiting for her to round the corner above me and descend each step more dramatically than the last. At any moment, she would breathe her signature sigh of annoyance and bitch at me for something—anything—but as I waited, it became obvious that she wouldn’t.
“We’re going to be very late,” Zoe said, looking up at me.
I squeezed her hand, and then a white envelope in the middle of the dining table caught my eye. I pulled Zoe along with me, afraid to let her out of my sight for a second, and then picked up the envelope. It read “Nathan” on the front, in Aubrey’s girly yet sloppy script.
“Are you serious?” I said, ripping open the envelope.
Nathan,
By the time you get this I’ll be hours away. Your probably going to think I’m the most selfish person in the world, but being afraid of you thinking bad of me isn’t enough for me to stay. I’m unhappy and I’ve been unhappy for a long time.
I love Zoe, but I’m not a mother. You are the one that wanted to be a father. I knew you would be a good daddy, and I thought that you being a good daddy would make me a good mother, but it didn’t. I can’t do this anymore. There are so many things I want to do with my life and being a housewife isn’t one of them.
I’m sorry if you hate me, but I’ve finally decided I can live with that. I’m sorry you have to explain this to Zoe. I’ll call tomorrow when I’m settled and try to help her understand.
Aubrey
I let the folded paper fall to the table. She could never spell you’re correctly. That was just one of a hundred things about Aubrey that bothered me but I never mentioned.
Zoe was looking up at me, waiting for me to explain or react, but I could do neither. Aubrey had left us. I came back for her lazy, cranky, miserable ass, and she fucking left us.
A scream outside startled Zoe enough for her to grip my leg, and reality hit about the same time that bullets came crashing through the kitchen windows. I ducked, and signaled Zoe to duck with me.
There would be no calling Aubrey’s friends and relatives to find out where she was so I could beg her to come back. I had to get my daughter to safety. Aubrey might have picked a horrible first day for independence, but it was what she wanted, and I had a little girl to protect.
More screams. Car horns honking. Gunfire. Jesus. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. It was here.
I opened the hallway closet and grabbed my baseball bat, and then walked over to my daughter, kneeling in front of her to meet her tear-glazed eyes. “Zoe, we’re going to have to get back to the car. I need you to hold my hand, and no matter what you see or hear, don’t let go of my hand, do you understand?”
Zoe’s eyes filled with more tears, but she nodded quickly.
“Good girl,” I said, kissing her on the forehead.