Chapter xliv
xliv
SOMETIMES, YOU KNOW WHEN SOMETHING WILL BE a life-changing, life-defining moment. There are moments that change the world, like the day we met—the day the Twin Towers fell—and then there are days that change the world for only a few people—the day I got married, the days Violet, Liam, and Sammy were born, the day I told the doctors to let you die, the day Darren and I decided to divorce. And now, the day we decided to tell our children the truth.
The night before, Violet, Liam, Sammy, and I went out for his birthday with my parents, who drove down from Connecticut. He wanted pizza and ice cream, so we complied, stuffing ourselves with pepperoni pizza and sharing one massive ice cream sundae among the six of us. It was called the “preposterous sundae” on the menu, and Sammy had been dying to try it: twelve scoops of ice cream, chocolate sauce, caramel, whipped cream, both rainbow and chocolate sprinkles, a whole banana, and a maraschino cherry on top. We did our best, but after all that pizza, we couldn’t finish it. Liam said we should come back and try again for his birthday.
“I’m in,” my dad said right away.
Liam gave him a high five.
I wished we’d had more moments like this through the years. Once we told Sammy, I knew I’d have to tell my parents—and Jay. I wasn’t sure if it would make things between us better or worse.
THE NEXT MORNING, SATURDAY, THE NIGHT DARREN and I were going to tell the kids about you, Sammy and I picked up Abe at his house and headed into Manhattan for the Met Scavenger Hunt the two of them were so excited about. Remarkably, they came in third place in a competition against mostly adult museumgoers.
It was a rainy day, and, after a celebratory frozen hot chocolate at Serendipity 3, Abe came home with us, and the boys spent the afternoon creating an elaborate game in which the basement couch was some sort of boat and a metronome relocated from the living room was a crocodile that had eaten a bomb. They each had to run across the pillows they’d put on the floor, jump into the boat, find the hidden metronome, and then perform surgery on the crocodile and defuse the bomb all within six minutes.
I witnessed this from the laundry room, then listened to it from the kitchen, where I decided to make the kids’ favorite meal for dinner—spaghetti and meatballs with crispy (or as Liam named it when he was little, “burned up”) broccoli and garlic bread.
Tasting the pasta sauce turned my stomach, I was so anxious about the conversation to come.
At around four thirty, Sammy and I donned our raincoats to walk Abe home. When we got back, Violet had just gotten home from Keisha’s, and a few minutes later, Liam had been dropped off by his friend Clyde’s dad. We sat down around the table at five thirty, and I asked the kids their best, worst, and wished.
“Easy for me,” Sammy said. “Best: Playing with Abe all day, coming in third in the scavenger hunt at the Met, and the frozen hot chocolate. Worst: Um, I think we broke the metronome, Mom. Sorry. But maybe you could fix it? And Wished: It wasn’t raining when we walked Abe home.” He looked at me sheepishly.
“I’ll look at the metronome later, and maybe next time tell me when it happens?”
“Sorry,” he said, staring down at his plate.
“It’s okay,” I said, not wanting to go into the conversation after dinner with him already upset. “Not a big deal. I’m sure I’ll be able to fix it.”
“I can go next,” Liam said. “Best: I think Clyde and I found two more people to start a real band! There’s this new girl in our class who plays the bass guitar and she’s really cool and her twin sister is a good singer, and they live on Clyde’s block and that’s my best.”
It made me wonder if this bass-playing cool girl is the reason Liam blushed on Valentine’s Day, but no way would I ask.
“What about worst and wished?” Violet asked.
“Worst is that Clyde’s mom’s in the hospital again, and wished well, I wished she wasn’t because it makes Clyde mad and also makes me worry about you, Mom.”
I got up and walked around the table to give him a hug. “I’m fine,” I said. “I promise.”
“Then why aren’t you eating your dinner?” he asked.
“I ate too much while I was cooking it,” I lied and kissed the top of his head before I sat down again.
“Vi?” I asked.
“Best: Ji-ho came to the movies with his friends today to meet me and Keisha so everyone could hang out together. Worst: The movie was actually kind of boring. Wished: I had gotten M&M’s instead of popcorn.”
“Why was it boring?” I asked.
“It was one of those car-chase explosion movies. I guess boring isn’t the right thing to say. Maybe just not for me.”
I nodded. “Those aren’t for me, either,” I said. Working in an industry where the creative work I put out was judged all the time, we talked a lot in our house about things being created that some people liked and other people didn’t, and that it usually just meant you weren’t the right audience for that film, the right reader for that book, the right eater for that snack, et cetera. I told the kids that not for me was a kinder, more respectful way to frame it. I would so much rather people post not for me than This is the dumbest show I’ve ever watched. Why is it about a tiger and a bunny? I hate anthropomorphic animals. Whoever created it must be a moron. I try to teach my kids that a post like that is really more about the person who posts it than my show. But it does still sting.
“What about you, Mom?” Liam asked.
The kids had finished their dinner, and the clock was ticking closer to the time Darren would come, the time our secrets wouldn’t be secrets any longer.
“Best: I got to celebrate Sammy’s birthday again. Oh, and I got the laundry done.”
“Yay, Mom!” Sammy cheered.
We all laughed again.
“Worst: I’m too full to eat more of this delicious dinner. And wished … wished …”
“Wished what, Mom?” Violet said, looking at me expectantly.
“Wished all three of you could still fit on my lap together.”
“Let’s try!” Sammy said.
I smiled at him. “Okay, let’s try. But I think we need to move to the couch for this.”
I sat down and Violet looked at me.
“Okay,” she said. “How about if I sit mostly on the couch next to you with one leg over yours. Does that count as on your lap?”
“Sure,” I said. “We can make our own rules.”
She sat that way. Liam mimicked her on the other side, and Sammy, who still actually did fit on my lap, sat in the middle. I wrapped my arms around all of them and pulled them together for a huddle of a hug.
“We fit!” Sammy said.
And that was how Darren found us.
I had left our door unlocked, and he walked in, dripping wet from the outside.
“Um, hello?” he said.
“Dad!” Sammy jumped off my lap to take his umbrella.
“Is it seven already?” Violet asked. “Did Dad come because we’re late?”
I shook my head. “Your dad is here early because there’s something we have to tell you three.”
“Is Dad sick?” Liam asked.
“No one’s sick,” I said. “But this is important. How about you three sit on the couch, and Daddy and I will sit over here on the love seat together.”
I looked at Darren. He had taken off his raincoat, and between the raincoat and umbrella he had remarkably managed not to get wet.
“Hi,” I said to him.
He nodded and sat down next to me.
I had no idea how this would go but was glad he’d come around enough to do this with me. Glad, for our kids’ sake, that we would be telling them together.