It Sounded Better in My Head - Nina Kenwood Page 0,60
to him. It’s all there, flashing through her mind right now, the fun we’ll have being two single ladies figuring out the dating world together.
No, no, no, no, no, no. No, we are not doing this.
‘I don’t want to talk about this with you.’
‘Oh. Okay.’ Her shoulders slump. Here we go with the guilt again.
‘Mum, can’t you see I’m still upset with you? For lying to me for months.’
‘I know.’
‘And for breaking up with Dad.’
‘You keep saying that, honey, but the truth is, we made the decision together.’
This can’t be true. Someone had to be the instigator, but they clearly don’t want me to know who it was.
‘Well, it was a terrible decision,’ I say.
‘This is not how I wanted my marriage to go, either. Trust me. I didn’t plan to be single in my late forties.’
‘Well, why did it go this way? I don’t understand.’
I think of the list I wrote a few hours ago, of evidence I had missed. There wasn’t a lot of tangible proof. As a family, we’re not shouters or criers, not in the traditional sense. Our fighting style is all quiet viciousness: sharp-edged comments, sarcasm, eye-rolling and pointed silences. They sometimes argued about money, but in a way that was so detailed and intricate I was too bored to listen in. Here’s my list of things I do know:
Dad doesn’t like the way Mum makes Vegemite on toast (too little butter, too much Vegemite), but she doesn’t change her method when making it for him
Mum hates the brand of toothpaste Dad buys, but he still always buys it
Mum once said Dad would never survive in the zombie apocalypse (I mean, of course he wouldn’t, it didn’t even need to be said), and Dad was so offended he wouldn’t watch the next episode of The Walking Dead with us
Dad thinks Mum interrupts him too much
Mum thinks Dad fails to defend her when she disagrees with other people
Dad thinks Mum has poor time-management skills
Mum hates Valentine’s Day, but is also offended when Dad does nothing to celebrate it
Dad doesn’t like Mum stealing his good work socks to wear around the house
Mum has always wanted a cat, but Dad is allergic to cat hair, though Mum questions the severity of this allergy
Mum thinks Dad is bad at apologising
Dad snores
I once found Mum crying, alone, in the car and I got the feeling that maybe she’d gone to sit and cry in the car before.
None of these things seems enough to end a twenty-year marriage, but maybe, when you add them all together, they are. The thing is, there was lots of good stuff too. I’m sure of it. They laughed a lot. They loved talking to each other. They genuinely seemed to enjoy each other’s company, and they always wanted to know what the other thought of things.
‘It’s complicated,’ Mum says.
‘I am capable of understanding complex things, you know,’ I say. I can’t seem to stop saying everything in the bitchiest tone possible.
‘I know. I just…I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to share all the details with you.’
‘All the details’ makes it sound like there was a scandalous affair.
Mum can see where my mind is going. ‘No, it’s not what you’re thinking. Your father and I just no longer felt like we worked as a romantic couple.’
‘Don’t all marriages go through that phase?’
‘It wasn’t a phase.’
‘But did you actually try to fix it?’
‘Yes. For a long time.’
‘But…’
But, but, but. But this doesn’t give me any answers. And it doesn’t explain to me how to know if a relationship is good or bad or wrong or right.
‘I hate that you’re breaking up,’ I say, and, finally, the bitchy tone is gone.
‘I know.’
‘Do you think you’ll get married again?’ I am so scared of the answer to this question.
‘To your father?’ she says.
‘No. To someone else.’ I don’t want my mother to spend the rest of her life alone if she doesn’t want to be alone. I want her to be happy, but I don’t want to share her with other people either—she’s mine.
‘I don’t have any plans to.’
‘I’m scared of having awful step-parents.’
‘I will never marry someone you don’t like, I promise.’
‘Well, that’s a lot of pressure to put on me. I might be a terrible judge of character. Don’t give me that much power.’
‘Fine. You have some power but not veto power.’
‘No, I’ve changed my mind. I want veto power.’
‘Sweetie, you’re jumping way ahead. A lot is going to change in your life in the next