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And now I blow it.

“How dare you blame Mom?

This isn’t her fault. It’s mine.”

Emily

Fault

Is easy enough to assign.

It’s Dylan’s fault for taking

the easy way out. It’s Mikki’s

fault for going along. The only

innocent

is the baby, who has no choice

at all. And here, friendship

becomes murky. I kind of want

to yell at her. I mean, I might be

guilty

of casual sex. Maybe even with

a friend’s boyfriend. But, damn,

at least I’m smart about it.

The last thing I want is an infant

who

needs a blood test to determine

paternity. Mikki knows who

the father is. But is it fair to push

him into that role because she

decides

to play mommy? Should I be

mad at him, like a good friend

might, when I think he’s right

to walk away, leave her behind?

Shane

A Good Friend

Listens to what you have to say.

And then tells it like it is, or at least

how it appears to be. Today Mom’s

good friend, Drew, is here. Right now,

he’s listening. I know, because I’m

on the floor by my door, eavesdropping.

They’re in Shelby’s room, which has

been transformed into an office/sitting

room with mauve walls and flouncy

white curtains and plush new carpeting.

The furniture is white wicker—

desk, love seat and rocking chair.

If you ask me, Mom spends way

too much time in there. Not sure

what she does, except read.
I can’t

quite let go of Shelby yet,
I hear Mom

say.
I have no clue how long it will

take, or if I’ll ever get over her

completely. I know I have to do

something. Get out of the house.

Get a job. Something. I just don’t

know what or when or how to pull

myself away. I feel like she’s still

here. Still needing me. It’s strange.

Come on, Drew. Tell it like it is.

It’s not strange, Missy. She was

the biggest part of your life for

the past five years. Take all the time

you need.
He pauses, and then,

How are things with Chris? Is he

living up to his end of the bargain?

Dad’s attentiveness to Mom has

waned a bit. But will she admit

that to Drew?
Up to a point, I guess.

He still works really long hours.

Still travels a lot, too. I’m not sure . . .

Is he still in the guest room?

Okay, that was direct. Asking it

like it is, if not telling it. I’m pretty

sure Drew won’t want to hear

Mom’s answer, which is not quick

to come.
No. I told him if we are to

have any chance at all, we need

to try and be husband and wife again.

This pause is even longer. Gaga,

who has been roaming the house,

comes through the door, shimmies

into my lap, purring for attention.

Finally, Mom says,
I’m not sure

it’s working. I mean, the sex is fine.

But I can’t say it’s like it used to be

before . . . her. I don’t know. Maybe

it’s me. I keep picturing them together.

Wondering if he’s thinking about her

when he’s with me. It’s painful.

But my choices are limited right now.

I understand,
says Drew. I can

imagine the hurt look in his eyes.

He totally loves Mom.
Just know

you’ll always have a place with me.

Way Too Much Information

All the way around. It’s not like

I didn’t know about Dad’s affair,

but I really don’t need the details.

I am about to get up, move away

from the door, when I hear Drew

ask,
And how about Shane?

How’s he doing?
Good question,

one I want to hear Mom answer.

On the surface, okay. He seems to be

doing well in school. He and Alex

are still going strong. But to tell you

the truth, I’m worried about him.

It’s like he’s collapsing inward,

imploding, but without the “bang.”

Christian says it’s his way of grieving

and he’ll get over it eventually.

I hope he’s right. I really do.

Oh, great. Now I’m a source of worry

for Mom, too. Like she needs more.

I Am Such a Loser

A fucking, no-good piece of crap.

All I do is feel sorry for myself.

What about Mom?

What about Dad?

And Gram and Gramps

and everyone else

who cared about Shelby?

What the hell is wrong with me?

I should be over this by now.

But I’m a mess.

A basket case.

I want to eat.

Want to sleep.

Want to fuck all day

like a Viagra poster boy.

And I can’t do any of those things.

Because, as much as I want to,

Food just won’t stay down.

When I sleep, I have nightmares.

And I can’t fuck because

when I try all I do is cry.