been if she wasn’t out getting diapers like I asked her to. As if having an infant all week wasn’t exhausting enough, having a teenager who decided to start her rebellious period on the day of her father’s funeral takes the cake.
I follow her into the kitchen. She opens the refrigerator, and I’m behind her, trying to see if she smells like weed again. She doesn’t, but nowadays they all eat those gummies. It’s easier to hide.
Clara looks at me over her shoulder with a raised brow. “Did you just sniff me?”
“Where have you been? You were supposed to be out getting diapers.”
“Is Elijah still here?”
“No. Jonah came and got him.”
She sidesteps around me. “Then we don’t need diapers.” She pulls the diaper money out of her pocket and sets it on the counter. She heads for the kitchen door, but I’ve been way too lenient on her. She’s sixteen. I have a right to know where she’s been.
I block her from leaving the kitchen. “Were you with that guy?”
“What guy?”
“The guy who got you high at your father’s funeral.”
“I thought we were past this. And no.”
She tries to step around me again, but I stay in front of her, still blocking the door. “You can’t see him anymore.”
“Uh. I’m not. And even if I were, he’s not a bad guy. Can I please go to my room now?”
“After you tell me where you’ve been.”
She throws her hands up in defeat. “I was cleaning Jonah’s house! Why do you automatically assume the worst?”
I feel like she’s lying to me. Why would she be cleaning Jonah’s house?
“Check the app if you don’t believe me. Call Jonah.” She squeezes past me and pushes open the kitchen door.
I guess I could have checked the app. I just feel like, even with the app, I don’t know what she’s up to. Her app said she was at the movie theater the day of Chris’s funeral, but it certainly didn’t tell me she was doing drugs while she was there. I feel like the app is useless at this point.
I should probably just cancel it because it costs money. But Chris is the one who subscribed us to the app, and Chris’s phone probably got smashed in the wreck. It wasn’t in the box of belongings they gave us from Jenny’s car.
I wouldn’t know the password to his phone even if I did find it. That should have been my first clue that he was hiding so many things from me. But who needs clues when you don’t even realize you’re supposed to be playing detective? I never even suspected anything was amiss.
Here I go again.
I kind of wish Elijah were still here. He kept my mind preoccupied. I didn’t have to think about what Jenny and Chris did when every minute was consumed by Elijah. Jonah is lucky in that regard. Elijah will probably keep him so busy and exhausted that his brain will have time for little else.
I’ll pour myself some wine. Maybe take a bubble bath. That might help.
Clara stormed out of here a good thirty seconds ago, but the kitchen door is still swinging back and forth. I hold it with my hand, then stare at the back of my hand, my palm pressed flat against the door. I fixate on my wedding ring. Chris gave me this one for our tenth wedding anniversary. It replaced the gold band he bought me when we were teenagers.
Jenny helped Chris pick this one out.
Was their affair happening way back then?
For the first time since the day I put on this ring, I feel the urge to get it off me. I slip it off my finger and throw it at the door. I don’t know where it lands, and I don’t care.
I push the kitchen door open and go to the garage in search of something that can take care of at least one problem in my life.
I really want a machete, or an ax, but all I find is a hammer. I take it back to the kitchen with me to take care of this damn door once and for all.
I swing the hammer at the door. It makes a nice dent.
I swing at it again, wondering why I didn’t just try to take the door off the hinges. Maybe I just really needed something to take out my aggression on.
I hit the door in the same spot, over and over, until the wood begins to chip. Eventually, a hole begins to