One night when their daughter, Sophie, was in bed and Arianna was collapsed on the couch watchingThe Gray Manon Netflix with Wyatt, he’d suddenly aimed the remote at the TV, killing the show and then killing her by announcing, “Ari, this isn’t working for me anymore.”
“What? The show?”
“No. Us.”
She’d gaped at him, wondering if her lack of sleep had finally started causing delusions.
How had that happened? Why hadn’t she realized it wasn’t working? More to the point, what kind of man had she married? She figured that out soon enough—when the going got tough, he got going...in search of someone who wasn’t a zombie.
At six years old, Sophie was perfectly fine living with Grammy. She loved Grammy, and she loved sleeping in the bed that had once been Arianna’s. She still didn’t understand why Daddy hadn’t come with them but was happy enough to visit him. On weekends when he could fit her into his busy born-again bachelor schedule. They’d worked out a plan for splitting time with Sophie but Wyatt rarely bothered to stick to it.
Except for today. Arianna had kept Sophie for Christmas Eve and the morning, so that she could open her presents and see what Santa brought—an art activity book featuring unicorns and a Got2Glow Fairy Finder, which she’d been thrilled with. But there’d barely been time for pancakes and presents, it seemed, before her father was calling to say he was on the way to get her.
“You’ve had her long enough,” he’d informed Arianna when she’d protested him coming so early. “I get her Christmas Day and it’s Christmas Day so deal with it.”
Deal with it. It seemed to her that she’d already had enough to deal with, thanks to him. He had never acted like this when they were married, and she was still reeling from the day-to-night change in the man she’d thought she’d spend her life with.
She wasn’t dealing with any of it very well. She’d picked up her old childhood habit of biting her nails and now they were ragged and ugly—rather like her life. But, hey, she’d picked up new habits, too, like spending nights in her mother’s guest room eating ice cream in bed—such a cliché—and streaming reality shows.
And crying. There had been lots of crying. On her way to work. On her way home from work. After she’d tucked Sophie into the bed that once was hers. On her mother’s shoulder.
With the holidays she’d made an effort to dry the tears. She couldn’t sit around and feel sorry for herself for the rest of her life. At least that was what her mother, Mia, told her. Mia had cajoled her into baking cookies together and she had enjoyed shopping for Sophie, enjoyed Christmas Eve. And, up until only a little while ago, enjoyed Christmas morning.
Sophie had taken her Fairy Finder with her when she left. She’d also taken her mother’s Christmas spirit.
“I hate him,” Arianna said to Mia as she watched Wyatt’s Mustang disappear down the street. She executed the nail on her index finger and sent it flying.
“I’m sorry,” Mia said, coming to stand with her at the window. “Try to think of all the fun you had yesterday. Sophie loved making cookies for Santa and watchingRudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.”
“And she loved having your chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast,” Arianna said, smiling as she remembered her daughter’s happy face.
“The same ones I always made for you every year.”
Arianna hugged her mother. “Thanks for letting us move in with you. It’s been great for Sophie, and it’s been a lifesaver for me.”
She’d been busy working on her health-centered website, which she was hoping to monetize. Plus, even though she was still only working part-time, she had long shifts and there were days, especially when there was no school, that she appreciated having her mother’s help. It sure beat day care.
“I promise we won’t stay forever,” she added. It wasn’t fair to her mom. She’d stay just until she could figure out her next step. Hopefully it wouldn’t be off a cliff.
“Don’t be in a hurry. I like having you girls here,” said Mia.
“You’ve got a life.”
“And you’re the most important part of it.”
“I’m sucking you dry.” She was an emotional vampire, and she knew it.
“No, you’re not. How about some eggnog?”
“That sounds good,” said Arianna.
They didn’t have much planned for their holiday dinner. With Sophie gone, Arianna hadn’t seen the point and Mia had said she didn’t care one way or the other and was happy enough with the leftover French zucchini soup she’d made for their Christmas Eve supper.
“And eggnog,” she’d added. “You have to have eggnog on Christmas Day.”
There were a lot of things you should have on Christmas Day, like a Daddy at home to watch while your little girl opened her presents. Arianna scowled. Wyatt was such a shit. A needy, immature shit.
“While you get the eggnog, I’m going to put on some Christmas music and make a fire,” she said. There was still some snow on the ground. That called for a cheery fire in the fireplace.
