Chapter 3

A couple of weeks later Dad came to fetch me and took me back home.

He looked at me and said, “Your mother signed the divorce papers, Red. It took some persuasion but she finally did it.”

I had heard about divorce before, but I never thought it would happen in my family. I felt very sad. It was happening, and it was happening to me.

“Your mother moved out of the house and she’s going to live in a small apartment in Middletown for a while.”

I looked up at my father not knowing what to say.

“You’ll have to help me around the house. I’ve already talked with your teachers and you’ll have to stay after class to catch up with the rest of your classmates.” Dad said.

I nodded again. That wasn’t a problem. I was very smart. My lowest grade was a B+.

“Now, as part of the agreement, you’ll have to see your mother every weekend.”

I finally found my voice.

“I don’t want to see her, Dad. I hate her! She hurt you! She broke our family!” My voice cracked and broke.

Dad looked at me with a very serious expression and said, “When you’re older you can refuse, but till then, I’m afraid you’ll have to visit her.”

I was angry with my mother. Every day I yelled at a framed picture of her I had in my room. Why wasn’t Dad good enough for her? Why did she choose some loser over us?

One day, I was so angry with her that I threw a pillow at her picture. It fell down to the floor and the glass shattered into pieces. It was broken like my family. I started crying.

I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to change things back to the way they used to be. I didn’t want my parents to get divorced and I was afraid of all the feelings that were happening inside me.

As the first weekend came close, I had an idea to force my mother’s hand, I’d deny her what she craved: my love, my attention. I might be forced to see her, but I wouldn’t talk to her. I wouldn’t even acknowledge her presence. I was going to give her the silent treatment till she caved, left that Andy guy and came back home with us.

The next weekend, Dad took me to my grandparent’s house. Mom was going to fetch me there.

While I waited there, I talked with grandma about my parents’ divorce. She let me say whatever I wanted, and cry, too. She was a good listener and never told me that my feelings were silly.

My mother arrived in a cab. I barely acknowledge her presence.

I just climbed into the taxi and sat there with a blank expression on my face. I didn’t answer her greeting. During the short trip to town, she tried to make conversation but I ignored her attempts. I simply sat in the backseat, praying to be able to carry out my plan.

I still loved my mother, but I was deeply hurt by what she did. I focused on my anger to be able to carry on with my plan.

Finally, we arrived at a modest building that housed six apartments on each of three floors.

I looked around while Mom set some things on the table. There were no signs that her lover was living there. Only one toothbrush in the bathroom. No male clothes in the wardrobe.