“You never could keep it in your pants, could you? But this is so … taudry. You make me sick.”
Sarah stepped away from Paul’s desk. She imagined him standing, heaving the chair back in fury as he grabbed her arm and slapped her across the face, her hair whipping dramatically as she fell to the footstool and wept. She turned to check, but in the tumult of their world falling apart, Paul sat at the desk with his pen held to a crossword puzzle.
She crossed the hall, heading for the kitchen, and almost tripped over Katie.
“Darling, what are you doing there?” Sarah asked, ignoring the evidence that their daughter had overheard everything. “Have you finished your homework?”
Katie nodded. Sarah reached down and gave her arm a shake.
“Come with me and we’ll see about dinner. What do you feel like?”
“I feel like a child from a broken home.”
Sarah stopped short, gave a sharp laugh. “Oh, please, Miss Drama Queen. A broken home? You have no idea.”
“YOU have no idea!”
“Don’t get fresh with me, young lady, or...”
Sarah stood with her finger raised in the air as the child jumped to her feet and ran up the stairs. A second later the door slammed. “Hey!” came a muffled cry from the next bedroom over. Kevin’s burgeoning role of older brother consisted almost entirely of pointing out Katie’s childish behavioral patterns. Door slamming was a point of contention.
Sarah couldn’t face dinner yet. Confronting Paul had unleashed an adrenaline rush that she couldn’t contain. She grabbed her keys and purse and slammed out the front door. “What the hell?” came the cry from Kevin’s room and Sarah smiled maliciously. Rage propelled her down the street as she headed vaguely towards the center. She needed to walk, let the anger overtake her for a while, burn its way through her system and leave her some sort of a path to follow out of this tangled web.