around like her neck isn’t really supporting it. “Everything’s fine.”
“I’ve got this,” Dad says, taking over just as Mom lets out a disgusting man-size belch.
“Gross.” I step away and brush her germs off my shoulder.
Dad lifts her up, holding her like a baby in his arms. A big, drunk baby. It looks like it’s taking a lot of effort to carry her up the stairs, so I stay at the bottom in case he needs help.
“Don’t leave me,” I hear Mom say before he turns into their room. The door closes, but I can still hear the sound of her crying.
There’s a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach, and for a second, I’m scared that something is really wrong. Mom’s never done anything like this before. I try to think back to all the incoherent things she was mumbling about. Then all of a sudden, it’s so obvious.
I smile and head back into the kitchen. Maybe wishes do come true. Because I heard her, clear as day. She said, “Don’t leave me.” There’s no other explanation—Mom and Dad are getting a divorce. Or breaking up, since they aren’t officially married.
Now I just have to decide how I’m going to let all this play out. If I let Dad know that I know, I could catch him off guard. Which could be good. Or it might make him mad. And if he’s mad, then I won’t be able to take full advantage.
When Sofia’s parents told her they were getting divorced, she practically had a meltdown. She locked herself in her room until her dad promised to put his credit card on an Uber account so she could go back and forth between their houses whenever she wanted.
Lauren got her mom to take her on a trip to Paris. I don’t remember how she pulled it off, something about being worried that she and her mom wouldn’t be as close since they weren’t going to be living in the same house all the time.
Come to think about it, not having to live in a house with my mom would be even better than a trip to Paris. I could tell the judge how Mom came home drunk today. The courts would never leave an innocent child with a woman who did that sort of thing.
I hear Dad’s cough getting closer, so I push my script aside and get him a glass of water—no time like the present to show him things will be okay when it’s just the two of us. I can help take care of him, probably better than Mom does. She’s so focused on her stupid agency, it’s like her employees mean more to her than we do. She’ll have plenty of time to spend with them once Dad and I move out.
On second thought, Mom should be the one to move out. She can get an apartment and Dad and I can stay at the house. It makes more sense since his office is here, and so is all my stuff.
“Whoa, careful.” Dad reaches over my shoulder to turn off the faucet. The water is overflowing, pouring out of the glass like the fountain at Piedmont Park.
“Sorry, I was distracted.”
“Understandable,” he says, before coughing again. I hand him the glass of water and he gives me a sad smile before taking a sip. “That must have been scary, seeing your mom like that.”
“Whatever.” I shrug it off, remembering too late that I was supposed to make it seem like a bigger deal so I’m not lying when I tell the divorce judge about it.
“Your mom’s got a lot going on,” he says, making excuses for her like he always does. Sometimes I wonder what he sees in her. At least he’s finally come to his senses; we’ll be better off without her.
I lift myself up on the counter and watch as he tries to act normal and pretend nothing is wrong. I know I decided not to steal his thunder and let him break the news, but I don’t think I can wait. And with Mom being passed out drunk upstairs, there might not be a better time to go in for the full-custody kill.
“I know,” I tell him.
“What do you know?” Dad asks, raising an eyebrow.
“I know what’s going on.”
Dad takes a step back and sits down at the kitchen table. He looks tired and sad. “Oh, kiddo,” he says. “I wanted to be the one to tell you.”