Vitriol

I missed my kids the way drowning lungs miss oxygen.

They were with my ex for a few days more after I returned from my business trip. It was a warm sunny afternoon when I walked across the park to pick them up.

I was in a spirited mood, and planning a large supper. Lucy met me.

“Hey,” I said. “You got a haircut.”

She shielded her eyes to the sun and glared.

“Uh huh. You have no idea. This is bullshit.”

“What . . . ?”

“Your son is lying about his homework. He is now behind on a project due in two days. You have to make sure he does this! If he doesn’t do his homework, he will get bad grades, and we won’t be able to get him into a good high school. He will wind up in a school with ruffians. Do you want that?”

“No, of course not, but what . . .”

“He is a liar. I’m sick of it.”

“Okay . . .”

She shook her head. “This is bullshit. We have shared custody and I’ve had the kids all week.”

“I’m sorry, I was away. But you agreed to take them. I mean . . .”

“I am getting screwed on custody, I am getting screwed about money, and that is bullshit.”

“I know, the divorce sucks. Everyone is getting screwed, especially the kids.” Where was all this vitriol coming from?

“You know, I tried everything to make this work. Everything. This is your fault too, you know. It’s not just me.”

This came from nowhere. This was going nowhere.

“Okay,” I replied. I was calm, not having anticipated such an onslaught. “So what is this about homework?”

Lucy stood, glaring at me. Then she explained the homework assignment, turned on her heels, and stormed off.

What was all that about?

I got my answer at home. My lawyer had sent me an email.

Lucy was scheduled to sign our divorce agreement on Friday. No wonder she was in a foul mood.

It was almost over.

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