S E X L E S S

THE KID DON'T CARE

Diva saw things and ignored.

The child knew when to activate her little girls' curiosity and when to leave it on snooze.

Her parents were weirder than ever, not they had they been normal someday. From the moment diva was old enough to understand, she noticed her parents weren't like her friends.

She never saw her parents kiss or cuddle as she saw in movies. They hardly agreed on anything, and when they did, it was either because A the other wasn't listening or B the other was too occupied by something to pay attention to what the other said.

A part from her father asking Margot how her day went Divas' parents didn't have much conversation.

Her mother did most of the talking. Margot always attempted to spark subjects. For Diva, her mother spent her time talking to herself or doing standup without a reactive audience. Diva, too, held a monologue with her mother, who was always working on something. Margot was ironing, cleaning, and taking online language courses if she wasn't cooking.

Diva's father, on the other hand, had a lot of time on his hands. Nathan was the one who took her to the park, zoo, and other places. Margot was always tired to do anything.

"I'm sorry, Diva mom has to work."

Yep, the excuse was like a prerecorded message that went off as soon as Diva had an inquiry.

Oh, and there was her real job where Margot did schedules, programmed interviews, deliveries, inventories, store visits, and in-store events. Yes, her mother was busy but a joyful woman. It was rare to see Margot angry, and when it happened, I could be sure it had something to do with Divas' dad.

"Mom, are you and dad splitting up?"

"Yes," Margot said. There was no use pretending that Diva didn't notice.

Rashan understood it was a moment to eclipse herself and find another occupation. She went to the kitchen and wiped the dishes to give Margot time to talk.

"Come and sit next to me," Margot said solemnly. She imagined the trauma and the suffering. She felt guilty to inflict her child such pain.

"Diva, first of all, I want you to know it has nothing to do with you. Your dad and I love you."

"I know."

Margot sketched a weak smile, "on the other hand. I don't love your dad anymore."

"So you're splitting up."

"Yes, and I'm moving out. I'm looking for an apartment."

Margot had lied to pressure Nathan into giving her the money. She still sought an apartment. Preferably in the area, the criteria set back her departure. She wasn't the only person wanting to live in the pleasant area of the Parisian suburbs.

"I would like you to come with me. Do you want to live with mommy?"

One would say, why ask? A child should do what a parent wants, but Divas' opinion counted for Margot, who thought she already shook her childs' life enough.

"No, I want to stay with dad."

Rashan poked her head out of the kitchen. Margots' eyes blinked like beaming lights, "pardon?"

"I want to stay with dad. This is our house. I don't want to live elsewhere."

Margot immediately regretted her inquiry, which she attempted to rectify, "Diva, I'm not sure your father wants-."

"He does, I already told him. Dad is very happy."

Margots' blood raced; she imagined all the scenarios except this one. The woman couldn't breathe. She saw the nine lonely months she spent speaking to Diva in her stomach. How she slept alone in the clinic the first night of Divas' birth and how she sprung out of bed when she heard a baby's cry the following day.