this…like…electric eel? And we were both chasing this shark because the other day he killed our mother.”
My fork stops midway to my scrambled eggs. “Wow.”
“Yeah, and we were, like, orphans. And we had to get this shark for revenge and everything? But we had to use a time machine because we didn’t just have to get him, we had to go back in time and stop him from even killing anybody ever. Not our mother or anybody else’s, but we had to go really far back because guess what about this shark? He really, really, really enjoyed killing people’s mothers. He’d been doing it for, like, a super long time. It was really cool.”
“Sounds like it.”
“Charlotte let me pick the game. Next time it’s her choice, and we’re gonna play space aliens.”
“She’s a good friend.”
I reach across the table and run my thumb over Drew’s wrist, which makes him smile. He’s still young enough not to mind things like that, which is something I thank God for every day. Ever since he was a baby, I’ve been surprised each time he’s leaned in to a cuddle. Surprised that he loves me, I guess. That he loves me even just a fraction of how much I love him.
“Are you looking forward to the weekend? Sounds like Daddy and Emma have some fun things planned.”
Drew lights up. “Yeah! We’re going skiing before all the rest of the snow melts. Last time the ski teacher said I was doing really well at Intermediate and I should try snowboarding. Dad said maybe but I think that means yes, especially because of my report card, which he said if it was good then I could snowboard.”
“Wow. That’s…that’s really exciting, honey.”
“Yeah, and after we ski we always go out to lunch at this big restaurant and Emma gets a salad but I get to have a cheeseburger and this big kind of cake that’s all hot in the middle and chocolate, and it comes with ice cream. Vanilla! And then we go to the game room and I play Pac-Man against Dad, except he never lets me win but that’s okay.”
“That sounds like a lot of fun.”
Amazing is what it sounds like. Like every little boy’s dream childhood. I try to imagine being able to take him skiing. All the gear alone—the snow pants and goggles and helmets, the skis themselves. Even renting all that is more money than I make in a week, probably. I save up all month just to take Drew out to a diner for dinner, and the next night he’s eating gourmet food at a ski resort like it’s nothing. I press the heel of my hand to my forehead and close my eyes.
When I open them, Drew is staring at me with a scrunched-up face.
“It’s not that big a deal, though, Mommy. It’s nice and all, but it’d be funner if you were there.” He blushes. “I mean, not there with Daddy or anything. But just, you know, it’s not that fun. Because I miss you and everything.”
My stomach turns over. Now the kid feels guilty about having fun going skiing, for God’s sake. He has to pretend he doesn’t enjoy it because he doesn’t want me to feel bad. What kind of mother does that to her kid?
And how long before he starts to resent the burden of worrying about my feelings? One day I will reach across a table and he will recoil. Because I’m a killjoy. Because I need too much from him. Because he wants to enjoy the good life he has and not feel bad about it.
Maybe I should let him recoil. Maybe I should even encourage it. His life would be a lot simpler without me in it. Emma takes good care of him. He wouldn’t have to keep going back and forth between having and not having, between two polar-opposite households. Maybe it would be kinder to let him go.
Not today, though. I’m too selfish, maybe, but I can’t push him away. Not yet.
“Baby, listen. I don’t want you looking at my face and worrying about how I feel, okay? I just looked sad for a minute because I was thinking how much I’d miss you. But you know what makes me feel better?”
Drew tilted his head.