“Have you told them about the divorce?” she asked.
“I can’t even say it to them. I don’t think I can say it at all. I keep calling it, ‘the situation,’ ” I admitted. “I can’t even think it. And I know it’s coming, but it just seems so ugly. Such an ugly word. I never thought I’d be the type of woman who had to say that word.”
“Who does?”
“I was a good wife to him and I expected him to be good to me.”
“And you had every right to expect that. You certainly did,” she said.
The next week, A. J. and I were in his truck on our way back from my meeting. He’d been my scheduled weekly chauffeur for the last months as I waited to get my license back from the DUI conviction and my mother was now saddled with the task of shuttling the twins everywhere.
A. J. and I were debating about whether or not wildlife activists should let the panda population die when he pulled in front of my mother’s house and I noticed Reginald’s new blue pickup truck parked in my mother’s driveway.
“Pandas wouldn’t even survive in the wild. They don’t mate naturally,” A. J. was saying. “All they do is eat and sleep all day. Pandas don’t even like other pandas. They avoid each other.”
“But they’re cute, so we should save them.” I repeated the stance I’d taken since we’d started the debate.
“But why? Everything in nature is set up for them to fail. Survival of the fittest? Come on!” A. J. laughed and I felt him looking at me. He’d stopped the truck right behind Reginald’s truck and I was looking to see if Reginald was inside. I was trying to consider any reason Reginald’s truck would be at the house. I had my cell phone on and in my hand, so I knew there wasn’t anything wrong with the children. My mother would’ve called me.
“So we should continue to support this dying species just because they’re cute and cuddly?” A. J. asked.
“Yes,” I said distractedly.
A. J. must’ve noticed how I was distancing myself from the conversation. He finally looked out of the window to discover the blue truck.
We sat there looking for a second. I’d made out Reginald’s head and shoulders in the driver’s seat.
“That’s not your uncle, is it?” A. J. asked.
“No.”
“Hum. Is he supposed to be here?”
“I don’t think so. Maybe my mother called him.”
Reginald got out of the truck and looked at me and A. J. He put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the truck.
I could feel A. J.’s alarm. I picked up my purse from the floor and looked at him.
“Don’t feel any kind of way,” I said. “I know what you’re thinking—here you are in a car with this man’s soon-to-be ex-wife.”
“I’m not concerned about that,” he said. “I’m wondering if I need to walk you to the door.”
“No. That’ll just make things more awkward. I don’t want to get you involved.”
“Are you sure?”
“Completely,” I said. “And he’s not the violent type.” I looked at Reginald. “He probably just wants to talk about the mediation tomorrow.” I opened the door.
/>
“Maybe I could sit here and wait for you to go inside.”
“A. J., you don’t need to do anything. I’m fine. I’ll call you tomorrow.” I kissed my fingertips and brushed them against his cheek.
“You’d better. I have these tickets to the zoo this weekend,” he said. “I’m not walking around there alone, looking like the new black Tarzan.”
“Is that what this whole panda conversation was about?” I said, laughing. “I was beginning to think you were crazy.”