* * *
Carrie hadn't slept at all that night. Tossing and turning, when she finally padded down the stairs at five in the morning, she felt numb and exhausted. Her mom was awake, too, and sitting in the living room with a cup of coffee and a book. She was the waitress at Turner's Steakhouse and worked the morning shift on the weekends through Wednesday. It was Thursday, so she had the day off. Her eyes were red and Carrie knew she'd been crying all night, too.
“Mom, are you okay?” Carrie asked.
“I couldn't sleep. Nothing to be concerned about.” Pulling the bookmark off the table, she marked her place.
“I overheard everything.” Carrie didn't know how to say what she felt, how to tell her mom how much it bothered her that they fought.
“Do you want to stay home from school today?” Carrie was surprised. Her mom never let her stay home unless she was really sick. She had to be coughing and sneezing and running a temperature.
Her mom turned on the television and ordered a cartoon movie and they cuddled together under the blankets. The movie had just ended when the front door opened.
“Dad!” Carrie burrowed out of the blankets and sat up, her mother doing the same. She thought maybe if she got both of her parents doing something fun together, maybe they wouldn't be so angry, so she said, “Wanna watch a movie?”
“No. Your mom and I need to discuss something with you. Maybe we should sit at the table.”
He wasn't always like that. Carrie remembered when he used to laugh and joke and watch movies with them. He was the official popcorn maker. Other kids had to settle for bag popcorn, but her father made the real kind with an air popper. He even melted real butter. But lately he was always serious and angry. They hadn't had a popcorn night for months.
“Dad, please, I don't want to talk about this now.” Carrie was scared. She didn't want him to say it, didn't want the words to make his leaving real.
“We're going to have to.” He crossed his arms and waited.
“She overheard our fight last night. I don't think you really have to tell her much.” Her mom no longer sounded sad. She was angry. Carrie thought maybe her mom should go back to feeling sad, then maybe dad would come home.
Seeing that his family was in rebellion and wouldn't be making their way to the kitchen, her dad took the arm chair, sitting on the edge which made him look like he was going to leave again as soon as he said whatever it was he wanted to say.
“I found a place to stay. The next few days I'll be packing to move out.”
Her mother was pale and looked like she wanted to yell or cry but for Carrie's sake, her parents stayed calm. Or maybe they just figured it didn't matter anymore if the other agreed.
Carrie just sat stunned. So this was what it felt like. A few of the kids in her class had single parents, and a few had divorced parents. They would talk about staying with their father or mother. Both of her parents watched to see how she would react. It seemed like they were expecting her to say something. Maybe they were too afraid they would start arguing if they spoke too much. She asked, “Dad, what days will I stay with you?”
“Honey...” Her dad looked uncomfortable and sad. “You'll be staying here with your mother.”
“But kids always get visits. I should see you sometimes at least. You'll come to visit us?” Carrie clenched the fleece blanket she and her mom had been using.
“Every Saturday. You and me.” His smile was fake, but then Carrie didn't think she'd ever have a real smile again, either.
Carrie looked over her shoulder to see her mother's reaction. Her mother was furious. And soon the fight began again. Before they went too far, Carrie screamed, “Can't you ever just talk to each other. You always fight.” And she ran up to her room and slammed the door. Not that they would notice because they were too busy disliking each other.