Kelly picks up her daughter from school

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... Kelly could see Chloe standing by herself at the edge of the field. The practice had ended and usually the girls stood around in little groups, gossiping and giggling, but today Chloe stood apart. Kelly tapped the horn and swung out of the driver’s seat to wave at Chloe. Chloe gave a little wave and started walking toward her – she normally trotted over briskly, flushed and smiling from the exertion and excitement, when Kelly met her there after soccer practice. Kelly swung back into her seat and reached over to open the passenger door for Chloe.   

“How was practice, sweetie?”

“Okay.” Her tone was listless, and she didn’t make eye contact. 

With her child clearly unhappy, the only emotions available to Kelly were sadness and worry. Kelly wanted Chloe to open-up to her about what was making her sad, and she knew Chloe wanted to and would feel better when she did, but the path to Chloe’s pain was a labyrinth, narrow and winding with many blind alleys. She started down a possible path.

“How was your time with da- with your father?”

Chloe burst into tears. With grim satisfaction, Kelly had found the unicursal path to Chloe’s pain. 

Kelly felt her hands grip the wheel tighter, felt her shoulders tense, felt her blood pressure rising. She took a deep breath.

“What happened, sweetie?”

Chloe kept crying and snuffling, rubbing her nose and eyes with the back of her hand. Kelly took her eyes from the road for a brief moment, looking at the blotchy face of her daughter, contorted with sorrow, wet with tears. She took another deep breath and willed a calm she didn’t feel, into her voice. She reached a hand over to comb her fingers through Chloe’s hair.

“Chloe, honey, tell me.”

In a halting, hicuppy cadence, Chloe spoke, “Daddy doesn’t love me anymore,” and the full weight of her heavy, broken heart bent her willowy body over her lap, with arms crossed as if to hold her heart in place, sobbing and rocking; her small, enclosed child’s world was a place brimming with grief. 

All her life, Chloe had never whined or cried out of petulance, but only when she was hurt, or sad as she was now, which made her crying that much harder for Kelly to bear. She was beginning to lose focus on the road. She frantically sought words to comfort her daughter.

“Chloe, honey, why would you think that? I’m sure your father loves you, the same as always.”

Chloe shook her head. “No, Mommy, all he cares about is the baby. He doesn’t talk to me or hug me… or love me…” and she was wracked with another wave of tearful despair. 

The poor thing, Kelly thought. Up until her ex-husband, Kevin, and his new wife had had their baby, Chloe had been an only child and had never had to compete for her parents’ attention. She was going through what many children go through, usually at a much younger age, when siblings arrive – maybe if she and Kevin had had another baby, Chloe would be past this phase, maybe they would still be together, maybe – 

But, that didn’t happen, would never happen. She exhaled deeply. This was about Chloe.

“Sweetheart, your daddy still loves you, I know he does. When a new baby comes along, it needs a lot of care and attention. Gosh, when you were born, daddy and I didn’t think about anything else.” 

She reached across and cupped her hand under Chloe’s chin, and gently raised her upright. 

“Daddy and Suzanne have to look after the baby every minute; they need to feed her and change her diapers and bathe her. We did all that with you when you were her age, honey.” 

Chloe was looking at her and listening. 

“When the baby gets a little older, and starts to walk, and learns how to use a spoon, well, they’ll have more time for other things, and for you.”

Chloe had stopped crying, nourished by Kelly’s words. 

“And, hey, you have a little sister, how great is that? You can play with her and read her stories. You’re her big sister; she’ll look up to you.”

Chloe looked off, considering this, and a small smile formed on her lips. “Yeah, I have a little sister.” 

Then, a sudden look of anxiety. “But, Mommy, I don’t know how to take care of a baby.”

Kelly had to smile. “It’s okay, sweetie, that’s her parents’ job. Your job is to tickle her, and play with her, and make her laugh.”

Kelly’s focus flitted from the road to her daughter and back again. Seeing Chloe settle back into the seat, gazing thoughtfully out the window – and smiling - Kelly’s grip relaxed on the wheel. 

But, in the dapple and play of late afternoon light through the window, a scintilla of drying tears streaked Chloe’s face and Kelly felt her hands grip the wheel in rigid rage. Goddam that Kevin, goddam him, goddam him!  The traces of Chloe’s tears tore at the scab Kelly thought had turned to scar, exposing the stinging, burning, livid anger and resentment she realized she felt still, as searingly painful as ever.

How could he do this? How could he cause so much pain to his daughter, to his family, to me? Men, Jesus Christ, who needs them? 

She flipped the turn signal and turned the car into their neighbourhood.