Brigit's Flame Week 2: It Hurts When I Do This
It wasn’t bad, as winters go, most people were saying. Cold, of course; you’d expect that in Indiana. And dreary. It seemed that the sky had remained leaden gray since November.
On this late January afternoon Annie was standing by the front window, looking out on the neighborhood street. Houses were fairly large, and set back from the road by wide front lawns, although they were indistinct now in the frigid blue twilight. Annie was holding a small, gift-wrapped package in her hand and watching anxiously for headlights to turn into her driveway.
“Is he here yet, Mom?” Madigan called from upstairs.
“Not yet, hon,” Annie replied. “Just stay up there. I’ll call you.”
“We’re playing Hero Quest in Josh’s room.”
Yellow headlights swung left into the drive.
“Mom? Did you hear me?”
“Yeah, honey. I’ll call you.”
She needed to see him before her daughter came down the stairs. It would be the first time any of them had seen Robert since the papers had been served two weeks before. And what a mess had been made of that! Annie was to have picked them up at her lawyer’s; friends had been arranged to spirit away all the kids; and Susan was going to be waiting on the porch, cell phone ready. Just in case. In that relative peace, Annie’s plan was to try to explain to Robert why she felt the legal separation was necessary. Instead, the paperwork had been delivered directly to Robert at his office and the corporation lawyer, seeing the restraining order Annie’s attorney had insisted upon, told him to go home, pack what he could manage, and leave the house immediately.
Footsteps crunched against the cement porch. Annie swung the door open before he could knock.
“Hi,” she said tentatively.
He didn’t respond; just stood there, hesitantly. Then, “I thought I was just going to pick up Madigan.”
“You can come in a second.”
“Is it . . .?”
“It’s fine.” Annie handed him the small package she was holding. “For you to give Madigan. They’re earrings, garnet ones. Her birthstone.”
Robert took the box from her, but didn’t say anything. He stepped into the foyer and glanced into the family room, visible from the entry. It was as cluttered as always; backpacks and scattered toys fought for space with newspapers and the remains of afterschool snacks. Annie was not a good housekeeper. “Where are the kids?” He hadn’t seen them since he’d hurriedly packed and left.
“Upstairs playing a game.” She looked at his face. She noticed his eyes were red and it looked as if he hadn’t shaved. “How have you been?”
Robert’s eyes brimmed. His nose was running.
“I want to come home.” His voice was pleading.
Annie’s chest felt suffused with sharp icicles. She had to hold her breath. She leaned back against the balustrade of the hall staircase and gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head.
“Daddy’s here?” Madigan’s voice came from behind her on the stairs.
“Yes, sweetie. And look - he brought you a birthday gift.” Madigan gave her dad a bright smile and came down the rest of the steps. She reached for her ski parka in the hall closet and slipped it on. Robert and Annie watched her instead of each other.
“Ready?” Robert said to her with forced brightness.
“Bye, Mom. See you later.”
Madigan opened the door and stepped out into the now dark winter evening. Robert followed, his head down and his shoulders hunched. He didn’t look again at Annie. The door closed.
She sat down on the bottom stair step, elbows on her knees, head in her hands. For the first time in two weeks, Annie began to cry.