For a moment she thought he was coming toward her to kiss her, like one of those romance novels she sometimes read, but at the last minute he breezed right past where she stood and out of the bedroom.
She followed on his heels, refusing to be so easily dismissed this time. He was back in the kitchen, opening the fridge and bending down to see inside. Winnie watched him pull out a Gatorade, snapping off the lid and taking a long drink. She had time to wonder when he’d shaved and if his Adam’s apple had always been that pronounced before he replaced the lid and headed for the door, the bottle held loosely in his hand. He was still acting like she wasn’t there, so she stepped into his path, blocking his way.
“We need to talk.” She folded her arms across her chest and immediately felt childish. To make matters worse, Nigel acknowledged the action with a little raise of his eyebrows. He tucked his bottom lip under his teeth and stared at her through half narrowed eyes. If Winnie had wondered if he was drunk, she had her answer.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve—”
“No, you never do know, do you?”
Her lips were still curled around her last word when he cut in, and they stayed that way as her eyes narrowed in disbelief.
“Know what, Nigel? How am I supposed to know if you don’t tell me?”
His eyes rolled toward the ceiling like he was searching for something in the skylights.
“I did... I have... Winnie!” He ran his hands through his hair, yanking on it in frustration. Winnie frowned at all of this, pushing air loudly through her nose.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but if this is about my brother—I stood up for you ton—”
Again he cut her off. “I didn’t want your brother to move in, I didn’t want to have this fucking dinner party, and if we talk about this right now I’m going to say things I regret. So do you really want to do this, Winnie, right now?”
She heard herself say “yes,” but it was all smoke; she was afraid. Her husband had never spoken to her like this, and after all this time, after everything that they endured together, it could only mean one thing: he was over it. It meaning her and their marriage, the fascination he’d once held for her—gone.
That’s when the shouting began, and true to his word, he said things he couldn’t take back. Winnie pressed her lips together, the hurt rocking around in her chest like a wild horse. Didn’t he know that once words were out, they stuck in people’s minds like barbs? She only ever brought up that night when she absolutely needed to—why couldn’t he do the same? For the most part it was around anniversaries that the grief woke up in her chest like a hibernating thing. She’d found that even if she didn’t consciously remember that it was that time of year, an unexplained sadness would creep up on her. She didn’t always know what was wrong; sometimes it took a few days of depression to figure it out. It was as if her entire body grieved on a sort of rhythm. Nigel shouting those ugly words at her had woken her grief, and now it would follow her around like a shadow.
8
JUNO
They were fighting tonight. Juno could hear them through the floor, their voices drifting to where she lay curled up in her bed. Her feet were cold; that’s what she’d been thinking when the fighting started. With Sam gone, his parents fought like they were releasing all the fizz that had been bottled up and shaken. She supposed that was better than the alternative: a young boy hearing firsthand all the things his parents hated about each other. She knew from experience that what was good for the kids wasn’t necessarily good for the marriage; if you were wizards you could balance everything, but for the rest of the nonmagical population, children put a strain on marriage while simultaneously keeping it together. It’s what Juno called a good ol’ damned if you do, damned if you don’t situation.
Winnie’s voice rose an octave; she was really working herself up. Juno lay still, eyes closed and trying to sleep, but their voices were invading her space. She felt the budding of panic in her chest, its petals unfolding. She was tired tonight, a little depressed, and she just