Page 65 of From the Ashes
“C’mon, we gotta celebrate this. Stay there, I’ll get theSkittles.” He disappears to our lockers with a bouncy step. I chuckle, warmth spreading in my chest. I have good friends. Don’t know how I got this lucky, but I did. I stare down at my palm, remembering the softness of Lana’s hand in mine yesterday.
It seems like, for once in my life, everything is falling into place.
Marvelous, as Dr. Parks would say.
Fucking Marvelous.
LANA
The melody of my ringtone vibrates in my pocket as I'm taking my first break of the day at the hospital. It’s been a crazy morning with new patients to welcome and worried family members to reassure. I just finished my round of distributing the meds to each patient before sitting on the little plastic chair of our break room with large posters of mountains and tropical beaches. A smile appears on my face as I wonder if Carter is the one calling me, but it quickly disappears when I notice my ex-name on the screen.
What does he want?
“Hi,” I greet in an icy tone.
“Hey, beautiful,” Ben answers casually, and I wonder if his act of being afraid of Carter was, in fact, just an act, and if nothing is about to change.
“What do you want?” I grunt, my voice cold and unfamiliar to me.
“I just wanted to make sure you’d be there Saturday morning at Nancy’s for my visiting hours.”
“I’ll drop him there like each time, why do you ask?” Since the divorce and the way I ended our marriage, the judge decided that it would be better for Ben to visit Noah on neutral ground. Which is why we’ve been organizing them at Nancy’s. I usually drop Noah off, Ben arrives and takes him for a little outing to have some quality father and son time, and then they get back in the middle of the afternoon. We do that once a month since Ben never asked for more. I always try my best to keep it civil, but thebest I can do is usually drop him, so I don’t have to see Ben. I know Nancy is here in case anything happens.
He snaps his tongue, “Perfect. We’ll talk then.”
I frown. Why does this man always want to talk to me? Doesn’t he understand the concept of an ex-partner? And didn’t he learn anything from the last time he tried to trap me in my own home? Telling him no is on the tip of my tongue, but somehow it remains there. My fists clench and I know I’m on the precipice of giving him a piece of my mind, but as always, I don’t.
“Lana, you there, baby?”
“Don’t call me baby.” I snap instinctively, but my voice doesn’t carry as much strength as I hoped. It’s so low it almost sounds like an apology. I shake my head, appalled by myself for bending to his every want and need.
Only you can stop this. You have to stand up for yourself.
“I have to go,” I say, and hang up the call. I place my mug in the dishwasher of our tiny kitchen and make a stop at the bathroom. My eyes, deep, dark, and tired, stay down as I wash my hands, like I can't quite bring myself to face my own reflection. This is wrong. This is the missing piece of the puzzle. The one where I get to make the rules. I sigh and splash cold water on my face. Droplets cling to my skin like tears, though I’m anything but sad. My blood simmers just beneath the surface. Maybe that’s good. Maybe that’s what Carter unlocked in me that day in the woods.
I can be angry.
I have the right to be.
Grabbing a piece of paper to dry my hands, I look at it, strangely visualizing Ben’s face. Suddenly, I crush it until it’s small, insignificant, useless. And then I throw it in the bin.
Exactly, where it belongs.
“Hum,” chants Noah, closing his eyes to better enjoy the mashed potatoes I made for us tonight. It’s not much, but my son is my best supporter. Always praising my cooking, even if I keep it simple.
“Thanks, love,” I say, leaning on my right to kiss his head. “Have you thought about the costume you want for Max’s birthday?”
“Yep.”
“And?”
“I want to be a dino, but not the little one, Mom. A huge dino,” he says, spreading his arms and making roaring sounds. I shake my head, chuckling, “Okay, I’m gonna see what I can do about that.”
“Perhaps your friend Carter could help you?” he asks, eating another bite, some of it smashed on his face. My lips part as I rewind in my mind the sentence he just said.
So he really likes him.
“Um, yes, why not? That could be fun,” I answer, wondering if I’m not pushing Noah’s boundaries too much.
