The Wave by Kristen Crusoe (smallest ebook reader txt) 📕

back to that morning, just six months ago, spring break. To before, when the worst thing had seemed to be his obsession with his latest romance. He loved all the shine and glitter of those early days, when everything was possible. She remembered how it had been for her. Oh, the waves of intense emotion that vibrated through her. Seismic shifts from elation to despair, all based on the sound of his voice, his touch, a look. She pitied the woman on the other end of his attentions, his current lover.

It was supposed to be a day off for them. A special family day. A day to reboot, to establish new patterns. Even one small change, just being able to enjoy a day away at the coast, might create better, happier ways of being together for them back home. It was possible, she knew that from her teaching. The butterfly effect. Small, iterative changes could have magnificent effects in all sorts of things, so why not in their relationship? Looking back, she saw that there had been such a change, but horrific in all ways. And still, the pain moves through her, looking for purchase. He had been anxious to leave. His anxiety became her anxiety. Oh, if only, if only. Remembering. She had been in the kitchen, packing a picnic lunch, bread, fruit, cheese, wine, all laid out on the blue-patterned tile table. She moved a vase of yellow daffodils, their blossoms lifted to greet the early morning light filtering in through the open window, to one side making room to lay out special snacks for Devon. Goldfish, fruit roll-ups, juice drinks. She had to be careful about his sugar intake but still, it was a holiday. She was so intent on her task she didn’t hear Adam come in.

‘Can we hurry it up a bit? I want to get back before dark,’ Adam had said, his voice registering his annoyance.

He stood in the doorway, dressed in his weekend attire of soft, fitted jeans and plaid flannel shirt. She felt frazzled, still in her nightgown and robe, hair spilling out of a messy bun. She turned to him, trying hard not to react with anger but failing. She felt her stomach clench, heart begin to beat faster, harder.

‘I’m trying. You could help, you know.’

Adam shrugged, taking a cup out of the cupboard over her head. She could smell his aftershave, a scent that reminded her of their early times together, causing a frisson of sadness along with a fleeting speck of hope that, maybe today, they could reignite some of that connection.

‘He only wants you. And besides, I have to make a few phone calls,’ he said, pouring coffee into his cup from the French press warming on the stovetop.

‘Again, really? I thought today was going to be our day away from all of this. From work, from well, everything,’ Clair said, her voice rising, giving her emotions away. She hated that and took a deep inhale to try and calm down.

‘It is, but I just have to make this one call. Something I need to arrange for later,’ he said, coffee in one hand, phone in the other. He set the coffee down to open the door leading out to the deck.

‘One call, or a few? That could take an hour or more?’

‘Just the one, really, it won’t take long,’ he said, picking up his cup and elbowing the door open.

‘OK, I’ll get him going, but can you at least pack the car?’ she said, hating that she sounded like she was pleading, but unable to stop herself.

‘I don’t know what to bring. How the hell should I know? You’re his mother. You do all this. I just show up and look like I’m a dad, but we both know who runs this family,’ he said, staring down at his phone.

‘And whose fault is that? Where have you been the past four years? At work. At school. With your precious students who, oh yes, need you so much.’

Her hands gripped the edge of the sink. She wanted to grab the phone away from him and throw it across the kitchen. But she didn’t. The morning was reeling away from her expectations of a happy outing.

‘You’re a teacher,’ he said, looking at her. ‘You know how it is. How can you, of all people, who works until one or two in the morning, accuse me of caring too much about my students?’

‘I work till all hours because I can’t work until he’s asleep. Unlike you, I can’t just go and do whatever I want when I want. Or haven’t you noticed over the past years; our son is different.’

‘Oh yes, believe me, I know, and if I forget for even one millisecond, you remind me.’

She turned back to the counter, began packing their lunch again. Her chest and shoulders slumped, like a deflated balloon. Wanting to rescue any hope for a good day, she exhaled, retreating from the argument.

‘Can we just let it go for a day?’ she said, her back to him. ‘Can we act like a normal happy family, for just today?’

‘Yes, yes, lay everything you want to take out here. I’ll load up the car. I’m just going to the deck for a moment,’ he said, pushing the door open wider with his hip, half in and half out.

‘The deck? Why out there?’ she turned around again, her face showing her disbelief. ‘Can’t you make your call here? I won’t listen to your precious conversation.’

‘It’s not that, it’s all the clatter and banging around once he gets up. I need some quiet time.’

Waving a hand at him, she said, ‘Go then, get it done. This thing that’s so important on this, the one day during our entire spring break we are spending time together as a family. Maybe then you can be with us, not with… well, with whomever it is you have to be with right now. Just go.’

Looking back, now, here in this place,