7. NO BOOZE AT THE PLAYGROUND

NO BOOZE AT THE PLAYGROUND

I swung my car into a narrow parking spot at the park. "We're heeere," I sang to Liv and Ria as I tucked my hair behind my ear. Sliding out of my seat, I commanded my phone, "Call Jess." I adjusted my left earbud before pulling on my backpack, filled to the absolute top with snacks and water.

Free from her seatbelt, Victoria eased forward to the edge of the seat and then slowly turned to face the open door before setting her feet on the asphalt, standing in one smooth movement, careful not to fall. I rolled my eyes. My mother had clearly given my girls lessons on the "proper" way to exit a vehicle in a dress. Then Victoria wandered to the grass and stopped, waiting patiently for me to free her sister.

Jess's voice boomed in my earbud, "Yes?"

"Hey, I'm here," I said.

"I'm sitting at the north edge of the park."

"K," I said, and hung up.

Tracking my oldest daughter, I scanned the horizon for potential threats, because that's what you do, apparently, when you're both a mother and unbearably anxious. The playground was surrounded by massive trees with leaves of green, red, and gold, changing with the season. Olivia's face had turned red from her intense scowling and thrashing as she tried to rip her seatbelt off her chest. I leaned in to pick her up. " I CAN DO IT MYSELF!" Olivia screeched and kicked her legs until she wiggled free from her seat. She lurched forward, chocolate-colored curls bouncing on her forehead, then plopped onto the car floor. She stood slowly, extended her hand, and waited for me to help her. Olivia then dragged me toward her sister, who stood patiently watching the clouds from where I'd told her to stay.

"Let's go find Aunt Jess," Olivia said to her sister.

My girls turned to me for approval and when I nodded they sprinted towards the playground, laughing and yelling indecipherable words, Victoria in the lead, Olivia forcing her legs to go as fast as they could but still falling further behind. Jess sat on a bench near the sandbox, holding a can of something. Her head rested against the back of the bench with her face turned up towards the sky as if she were sleeping.

"Sorry, we're a little late," I said, plopping down next to my sister. I shed my backpack, letting it slide to the ground with a thud next to a disgusting blue-speckled mess of something wet and sticky.

Jess straightened up, then leaned over to kiss me on the cheek, her red lipstick no doubt leaving a mark. She flipped her chin-length hair to the side. "Oh, it's fine," Jess said, "I'm just sitting here being one of those incredibly off-putting people at a playground without kids. So far, I've been given the stink-eye by no less than four mothers. And a German Shepard."

Wrinkling up my nose, I said, "Yeah, I can't imagine why anyone would find it odd that you're draped on a bench at the playground in a half-sleeping position at noon with a can of," I reached over to spin the aluminum can around in my sister's hand, "beer, a can of beer."

"It's gone," Jess said, "and I am a childless graduate student in perpetuity, so once in a while, I get to day-drink."

"At a playground," I deadpanned.

"Sure. I mean, I'm not putting it into anyone's sippy cup. And I'm also not even remotely buzzed. Although I wish I were…"

Jess sat up tall, groaning as if just coming out of hibernation. She yawned, dragged herself to the recycling bin, tossed her beer can inside, and then paused to survey the place. Two men in their late twenties were shirtless just beyond the garbage cans, tying each end of a rope around two adjacent trees to attempt tightrope walking. They growled and flexed at each other casually. Everyone else at the park wore a jacket and participated in various park activities–dog walking, jogging, and frisbee-throwing.

Jess returned to the bench and plopped down next to me. Her eyes trained on her nieces throwing mulch at each other, her brows raised in mild concern. Then she extended her legs, which were a little shorter than mine, and crossed them at the ankle.

"So, how are you? The other night, you were upset."

She searched my face for a lie, for honesty, for any tiny sliver of emotion that might settle there. Those hazel eyes of hers were full of concern.

"Don't give me that look. That sad, pitiful look, like I'm a puppy that just got kicked or something," I said, leaning forward to pull my laces tighter on my right high top.

"Don't bring a puppy into this," Jess said. "You really are your mother's daughter, ya know."

She grinned.

"I resent that."

"Me too."

I crossed my legs at the knee and leaned back. Olivia and Victoria played Dinosaur tag. Their contagious guffaws tugged at the corners of my mouth.

"Everything is about the same as when I saw you at soccer practice. I'll be fine."

Liv and Ria stopped running to argue about which was the T-Rex and which was "it." For the love of Gods, couldn't they just get along for five damn minutes?

"Just practice taking turns being the T-Rex!" I called out to Liv and Ria.

"Alright," Jess conceded.

I chewed on my bottom lip, considering.

"Steven is out of town for another week, and when he gets back, we'll try therapy. He said he'd do it, so we might as well give it a go, but I'm losing hope. We haven't even texted since he left, and honestly, I don't miss him at all, and that's probably the saddest part. I'm a little burned out, sis. Being a mom feels endless sometimes, even if you love it. Fuck, especially if you love it. The more you care, the harder it is, and sometimes I feel like I'm being swallowed whole."

A pause. Then Jess sighed wearily,

"I'm sorry." She put her hand on my thigh. "It seems like being a parent nowadays is really hard. Remember when we were kids? Not a care in the world. We were tossed to the nanny; adults smoked in cars with the windows rolled up while kids played games in the back-back. Hell, I don't think I wore a seatbelt until college."

"Ah! The back-back!" I exclaimed.

I remembered being on the highway as a kid and seeing children piled into the hatchback of a car in front of us, little mouths and noses pressed against the window to make faces.

"And," I remembered suddenly, "they sent us to camp or had Aly take us to all the activities so Mom could have a martini or ten in peace. Thems were the days to be a mom."

"Aly." Jess's eyes widened, "Wow, I haven't heard that name in a while."

"Me too. Our parents were the worst, but at least we had the best nanny. Too bad she got spooked and left after dad was, ya know," I said.

Victoria and Olivia climbed the steps of the giant slide, Victoria gracefully bounding and Olivia clamoring behind her on all fours with the grace of a newborn rhino, just like Jess and me at their age. Jess acted as my shadow for the better part of our childhood because she was two years younger and didn't want to be left behind. Sisters, I thought, what a strange and magical kind of love.

Hopefully, my kids would stay friends, protect each other, and make it to adulthood without me being accused of murder. Lofty goals. It was hard enough to lose our father and ten times harder to wander the halls of our high school to the cacophony of gossip. The talk was brutal. "Did you hear? Did you hear? Daniele and Jessica's mom killed their dad with a hunting knife. A tennis racket. With an evil glance. A curse. Did you hear? She was taken to the police station for questioning last night."

What happened to my father was devastating, and not a day had passed since when some part of me didn't feel uneasy or anxious, the shock of the whole thing having fused itself to my nervous system. It reverberated through me every now and then as a reminder that things were not okay.

Jess cleared her throat and ran her hand over the buttons on her blouse, carefully considering her next words.

"So what are you thinking?" she said softly. "I don't want to tell you what to do, but I don't want you to be unhappy forever, either."

Jess put her delicate hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently before resting it back in her lap.

"I know," I groaned, "It's complicated. And it's not." I exhaled loudly. "I'm unhappy, mostly because of my marriage, so the easy solution would be to get myself out of it. But I don't want to get divorced. I don't feel like I can handle the aftermath of piecing Liv and Ria's lives back together. Of losing time with them on holidays, every other weekend, and over the summer. It just breaks my heart to think about it. But it's not good to model bad love for the sake of good parenting. And I'm so incredibly lonely."

What I didn't say because it might worry her, but felt in my bones, was that the resentment and loneliness were breaking me day by day. The endless, icy absence of love, the pain of being ignored, of not being valued, hollowed me out.

The distant mountains were beautiful; snow-capped peaks jutted into the pale blue sky. I knew I'd held on for way too long, hoping Steven might do a one-eighty, become kind again, or, ya know, he could get a lobotomy so we could keep the family together and avoid the painful untangling of our lives. I feared I'd waited too long. Worse, I feared I'd made a horrible mistake in marrying him in the first place.

Jess yawned again, then shook her head, her bob swinging around her jawbone.

"He's turned into a miserable ass," she said dryly. "You have a lot of valid reasons why you want to work it out, and I get that, as much as a childless person can, and I even applaud you for it. But I hope you know it's not a personal failure to recognize when something isn't working. That's a strength. That's bravery. Two qualities you have always had in spades." She smiled tightly and I smiled back. Jess adjusted the collar of her shirt then continued, "and you're not repeating our upbringing by divorcing that shitweed. I know you want it to be more stable than what we had and it will be no matter what. Mom was forced into single parenthood because someone tore dad apart in our childhood home. If they'd simply divorced, well, we'd be fine. I think."

I whipped my head to Jess.

"That's kinda brutal."

"I know, but it's the fucking truth."

"Yeah."

I paused to scan for the girls and couldn't find them. I lept to my feet, unable to catch my breath. I took three steps toward the playground, and the knot in my throat felt like a noose. Then I spotted Victoria standing off to the right of a blue slide, and something about her sneaky posture told me enough.

"RIA!" I yelled, "are you being nice to your sister?"

Victoria turned and smiled sheepishly at me, then slowly moved aside to let a furious Olivia off the slide where she'd been trapped. Victoria took off running with a red-faced scowling Olivia right behind her. Once I felt pretty sure Liv wouldn't catch and beat her big sister, I found my way back to the bench.

"If Liv catches her, she's going to kick her ass," Jess mumbled.

I huffed a laugh.

"Luckily, she can't catch her."

I patted my sister's slender, marble-hard rock climber's leg that felt like it had been chiseled from stone.

"Anyway, it's your turn. Let's talk about you for a minute."

Jess pursed her lips and squinted into the distance.

"Hmmm. Okay. Uhm, life is dull on my end. I'm good, just working on my dissertation and staring at my living room wall, mostly." She brushed her short, glossy hair behind her right ear, revealing a little tattoo on her neck, a series of triangles symbolizing earth, air, fire, and water, the four elements. Fire, especially, was a big one for Persians but all of the elements were important to both ancient Persians and witches.

"Still not dating?" I asked.

"No, not really. Everyone is terrible. You'd think being queer would mean more options but like, no, everyone is gross," Jess said. "I have a date this week with this really beautiful woman I've been chatting with a little in an app. She sounds really fun, but she's only here temporarily to visit a friend, so maybe I'll have a short fling to look forward to."

"I think if things don't work out with Steven, I'm going to buy an epic vibrator and never date again. My goal is to be a bog witch because I can't fathom ever being in another relationship."

I stretched my arms to the sky, wiggled my fingers, and arched my back to release some tension in my joints.

"Join the club," Jess said, sighing.

"Oh!" I whipped my face to her. "But I forgot to tell you!" I grabbed her arm and shook it, "I met a new neighbor. And holy fucking shit, he's one of the hottest men I've ever seen. He's got this intense British creepy arrogant prick thing about him. I'm not making him sound great, I know, but seriously, he has this intoxicating-to-be-near thing about him."

Olivia and Victoria bolted from the slide to the climbing wall.

"Stay in my sight," I called to them.

Jess angled her body towards me, pulling her knees into her chest.

"Do I smell infidelity coming your way, hmmm?" she sang, winking.

"No, no. I don't think he'd be into a soon-to-be divorced mother of two. Although he did say that he was surprised I'm a mom. Whatever that means. Also, I've seen him walk by a few times, and he's always with different women and sometimes men, all gorgeous. There's something about him, though, I don't know. It's like, it's going to sound weird to say out loud, but it's like something about him calls to me."

Jess let out a large breath to let me know that she was annoyed and then glowered at me.

"Danny, you have children, not the bubonic plague. Anyone would be lucky to have you. Maybe you'll run into him again, and at the very least, you can have a fuck buddy who is nice to look at and less boring than Steven."

I rolled my eyes.

Victoria and Olivia bounded towards us, holding hands, their eyes ablaze with mischief. The forever back and forth of the spirited child, the expression that changes from one second to the next, from fire to twinkle. They scrambled onto the bench and crowded Jess's lap. Jess smiled and wrapped her strong arms around the girls, pulling them into her chest, where they happily snuggled in. A knot formed in my throat, and the tears swelled to the corners, taking it all in: my sister, my girls, my people. I inhaled shakily before breathing my feelings out in a subtle gust.

When we got home from the park, my mother's black Mercedes sedan loitered in front of my house. She had a key, but she'd planted herself on the sidewalk to examine my yard, her lips turned down at the corners as she surveyed every square inch of the place.

I freed the girls from my car so they could bounce over to my mother for a hug or something that resembled a hug. My mother adored the girls but always embraced them as if it were her first time touching another human being. She patted each child gingerly on the back with the tips of her fingers, smiling warmly while doing so.

"Run and get your things! Beth is making your favorite tonight! Chocolate cake!"

Liv and Ria squealed, running for the front door.

"Give that poor woman a Friday night off once in a while," I mumbled.

She rolled her eyes and waved her gloved hand at me.

"Do you have their things ready?" She asked, scrunching up her nose at my house again.

"I do. Come in. I'll grab their bags. And why do you keep looking at my house like that?"

"Like what? I like your house. It's so cute. Very quaint."

"You said that like I live in an outhouse in the middle of a forest."

"It's just so small . Doesn't it feel a little, I don't know, suffocating?"

"No," I said flatly. "Not everyone can live in a mansion in Cherry Hill, Mom. It has four bedrooms and two bathrooms. What else do I need?" Then I thought about it and knew a laundry list was about to pour out of her. "Actually, don't answer that. I like it. It's perfectly fine for us."

"Suit yourself," she said, making her way up the front steps to the porch, where she seemed to be searching for a rodent infestation by the way she frowned, dragging her gaze over every inch of the swing, the chairs, the cement of the porch itself.

We stepped through the door and I gestured to the two small suitcases in the entryway before peeling off my boots to wiggle my toes. I tossed my long wool coat over the console table, then threw my beanie on top of that. My mother watched me with a horrified expression as if I'd just squatted and shat in my hand.

"What?" I asked, gesturing to my things, "I'm going to put my coat and stuff away in a second. Do you want a cup of tea?"

"You're an adult," she said, shooing me away with a hand. "You can live in filth if you want. And no, thank you. We should be going so we can be on time for dinner."

I pressed my lips into a tight line to keep my mouth shut.

Before I could say something I'd regret, Liv and Ria came running back downstairs, clutching their stuffed animals. They paused to hug and kiss me before grabbing their suitcases to drag to my mother's car.

"See you soon," she said, her back to me. Then, much more quietly, she whispered, "Love you."