Page 5 of The Atonement
“No, I have. He’s just really busy with his new project. We drove through a few dead spots overnight, so I wanted to make sure he hadn’t called you… Anyway, like I said, I’m sorry we’re dropping in on you unannounced. I meant to call, but I…didn’t. The kids needed showers and food, and I have a few errands to run. I didn’t want to leave them home alone.”
She was quiet for a few moments, and I worried she might tell us to leave. Instead, she stepped forward, reaching for my bag. “Better here than your father’s.”
I closed my eyes with a soft laugh, relieved to be accepted, and nodded. “Thank you.”
“I’ll fix them breakfast. Lord knows how you always burn things. What do you think they’ll want?”
I let the remark roll over me. “Um, what do you have? Cereal, maybe? Oatmeal? I don’t want you to go through any trouble. I can throw it together for them.”
Before we made our way into the kitchen, she placed my bag at the bottom of the stairs. “Seriously? Oatmeal? Cereal? You know me better than that. You can choose to feed your children like modern vermin in your household, but in my house, our bodies are our temples.” In the kitchen, she opened the fridge, tapping a finger to her lips. “We’ll do an egg white omelet with spinach for Maisy. And…the same, but I’ll add some cheese and turkey bacon for those growing boys.” She pulled ingredients from the fridge, and I flinched, my hand going to my wrist involuntarily. I dug a nail into my skin, recalling the numerous times I’d stood in this exact spot and been ridiculed for my food choices and the size of my body.
“No,” I said sharply.
She paused, looking at me as if I’d just grown a spare head. “Excuse me?”
“Just…please, Mom. Just please fix them the same thing. Maisy can eat whatever the boys eat.” She pursed her lips, preparing for an argument, but I headed it off. “I know how you feel about food, but they’re my kids. And they haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday, so please.Please.Just feed them breakfast and don’t talk to Maisy about her food choices.”
Her jaw snapped shut, and she placed the food on the countertop with extra force, muttering something that sounded likeungratefulunder her breath as she turned away from me to dig in a drawer.
“I’m sorry.” I stepped forward, placing a hand on the granite island. “I shouldn’t have snapped. I’m just tired. We’re all tired. It’s been a long night. I should be thanking you for letting us visit.”
When she turned back to me, there was a weariness in her eyes that matched my own. “You know you’re always welcome here, Ainsley. Any of you.”
“I know,” I told her, though it had only been moments ago that I’d doubted it.
She slammed the drawer shut, spatula in hand, before retrieving a skillet from the cabinet next to the stove. “Is everything okay? Really?”
I sighed, sliding onto the barstool across from her. “Everything’s fine, Mom.”
She placed the pan on the stove, then moved to the sink to wash her hands. “You know, you never were very good at lying to me.”
Oh, I know.
She seemed to read my thoughts, glaring at me over her shoulder. “It’s Peter, isn’t it? The two of you are having problems?” She shut off the water and turned back to me, drying her hands on a towel she’d pulled from a nearby drawer. She tutted. “Oh, I worried this would happen.”
I stared at her in disbelief, then shook my head. “We aren’t having issues. Peter and I are…fine.”
“Fineisn’t good.” Her brows rose defiantly. “I sensed it at the birthday dinner. Things were…off between the two of you. I said so to your father. Oh, he’ll just be devastated to hear this. It’s all his fault, isn’t it? I told him how bad it was for Peter to see him with his latest floozy. Men always think the grass is greener, don’t they?”
“Mom, stop! It’s not that. I swear, it isn’t. Peter and I are fine. We’regreat. I swear.”
She pulled a bowl from a cabinet, opening the carton of eggs without looking at me. “Then why are you here when you have a perfectly good home thirty minutes from here? Why are you here when you’ve only brought those children into my home when I force you to?” She waved an egg in the air—midcrack—pointing toward the top floor. “You’re lying to me, Ainsley, and I want to know why.”
I placed my head in my hands, my shoulders drooping. What more could I say? What could I say to my mother or my children? What could I tell them?
For so long, all I’d wanted was a life without secrets and lies, and now, thanks to Peter, I’d found myself being the one doling them out the most. Who had he turned me into?
I inhaled deeply, working to keep my tone even. “You’re right.”
“Of course I am.” She didn’t miss a beat.
“Peter and I are…having problems.” Sweat beaded at my hairline, my entire body revolting against the truth. I hated myself for admitting it. I hated it for being true.
“An affair?” she asked. “Financialproblems?”
“No. Nothing like that. Things have just gotten…stressful.”
“As they do.”
