Page 47 of The Me I Left Behind

“But your dad said….”

“Jesus, Mom. Dad isn’t always right, you know. He tells you what he wants you to think. He twists things to confuse you.”

She was probably right. He’d been gaslighting her for far too long. “We’ll figure something out, sweetheart. But tonight, I have my class.”

Again, Carol gave her the eye roll. “Tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t you skip?”

Maggie perched her hands on her hips and squared herself. “You know I can’t. I need the class to help me get back into the work world. My resume sucks so I have to figure out how to present myself as employable. I have to find a job sooner or later, and right now, this class will help me do that.”

Carol stared at her phone, texting someone. “Don’t tell me I have to babysit.”

“No. You don’t. Jason and Chloe will be fine here. I’ll only be gone a couple of hours.”

“Good. You’ll be home before me then.”

“It’s a school night,” Maggie reminded her. “In by ten, please.”

She nodded. “Sure. I texted Logan. He’s picking me up.”

Logan?Maggie watched her fingers fly over the keyboard again. “Who in the hell is Logan? My God, Carol. Did you have another guy waiting in the wings?”

Carol glanced up and smiled. “Maybe.”

Shit. She is too much like me at that age. Dammit.

“He’s here. Bye!”

A horn sounded loudly from the street. Maggie frowned and watched her daughter race across the lawn and climb into a newer model four-wheel-drive pickup truck. Memories of her own past raced through her head, strongly conflicting with the present reality.

“Mommy,I need some stuff for a project.”

Butter knife in hand, Maggie glanced at Chloe. She plucked the toast from the toaster when it popped up. “What kind of stuff?”

“Art stuff. I have to make a poster thing. I can’t remember what it’s called. I have a paper in my backpack.”

“Okay. When’s it due?” She hoped not today.Why do my kids wait so long to tell me these things?

“I dunno.”

Maggie finished buttering the toast, then placed the plate of toast on the island. “Carol! Jason! Breakfast.” She made eggs that morning, with cheese and toast. Just how they liked them. Would Max be able to make breakfast like this for them when the time came? No, Max would throw them a box of tarts or donuts.

Not coming to that, Maggie. Don’t think about it.

Carol rushed into the kitchen. “I’m late. Can we go?”

Behind her, Jason drifted in, scratching his head, and sat. “I’m not ready.”

“Well, I am!” Carol nudged him and Jason nearly fell off his seat.

“Hey.”

“Stop you two. Sit down and eat. Carol, we’ll go when everyone is ready,” Maggie said.

Carol grabbed two toasts, put a spoonful of eggs and cheese between them, and squished the sandwich flat. “But I’m already late.”

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