Page 147 of Forever Never
“You were overdue. I mean, what normal human doesn’t lose her shit every once in a while?”
* * *
This time,in a vast improvement over the last visit, her sister invited Remi inside. The family’s moderately overweight beagle thumped his tail from his blanket on the couch. Princess Megatron joined the Olson family after Kyle cracked under the pressure of endless pleading from the kids. He surprised a very unhappy Kimber with the puppy. The kids were given naming rights in return for promising to be entirely responsible for the dog’s care.
That lasted all of about thirty minutes. Mega, as he was now known, quickly discovered who was in charge of food in the house and attached himself to Kimber.
“You painted,” Remi said, unwinding the scarf from her neck as she appreciated the soft umber on the walls. Visitors would never guess that two active kids with a vast array of toys, hobbies, and books lived under the tidy roof.
“And redid the floors,” Kimber said without enthusiasm. “And finally sanded down the paint on the molding around the transoms. And painted the god-awful beige brick on the fireplace.”
“It looks like one of those houses on HGTV.”
It did. It was clean but cozy. Colorful but calm. Her sister had a real eye.
“No, it doesn’t,” Kimber said, shucking her winter gear and stowing it on the neat hooks above the driftwood bench.
“I’m serious,” Remi told her.
“Thanks. No one’s really paid attention to any of the changes. I don’t even know why I keep making them.”
“I know you’re into the parenting thing and all, but have you ever considered working part-time as a designer? I mean, think of all the summer rentals that are in desperate need of an overhaul. Wicker couches and pleather futons have lost their charm.”
Kimber let out a strangled laugh. “Have I thought of...” She stopped herself and shook her head.
“What?” Remi asked.
“I’ve thought of nothingbutdoing something. Anything.”
Treading lightly, Remi followed her sister into the tiny mudroom at the back of the house. On the wall, mounted between tidy cubbies and the laundry, was a giant whiteboard calendar. Colored sticky notes, patterned tape, and hand-lettered notes lay the groundwork for the family’s entire existence.
Kyle trial in Detroit Michigan.
Hadley recital and sleepover.
Ian book club.
Turkey burgers and salad.
Video chat with dog trainer.
Laundry day.
Groceries.
It was hypnotic in its precise structure.
“What the hell is this?” Remi asked in awe.
“That is my life,” Kimber said, crossing her arms. “Well, my family’s life. I don’t seem to have one of my own.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Impressive, isn’t it?”
“I was going to go with terrifying. Where’s your stuff?”
“My stuff?” Kimber’s laugh was humorless. “I don’t have stuff. My stuff is making sure everyone else has their stuff. Kyle is never home. And I love my kids. You know I do. But kids are so fucking hard, Rem. Hadley is just tiptoeing into puberty, and I don’t know if either one of us will survive it. I didn’t sign up to be a single parent. Some days I just want to erase everything and see what happens.”
