Shortness of Breath

Chapter Seven

Casey - October Thirteenth

The car ride home from the hospital was uncomfortably silent. Cooper sat in the back playing some video game, while Emerson sat in the front playing the quiet game and I sat in the driver's seat and just played dumb.

"So, are you going to even address it or are you just going to pretend that wasn't weird?" she finally asked when we were nearly home.

"Pretend what wasn't weird?"

"Never mind," she said. "Looks like it's the latter."

"I love your father, Emerson," I lied, at least meeting her halfway by admitting I knew what she was talking about.

"Mhm."

"What?"

"Your marriage isn't normal," she told me as though I didn't know. I was increasingly glad that Cooper had headphones in, as this information may have been new to him.

"What really is normal, honey?"

"Don't give me that, Mom, okay?" she said. "Yeah, there are different types of relationships and every one has its problems, but you cannot sit there and tell me that what you and Dad have is healthy."

"Our marriage is difficult," I settled on.

"Yeah," she said. "Difficult, complicated, imperfect. Mom, I don't know if you know this, but those are all nice words for dysfunctional."

"I'm trying to make it work," I said, now as though I were talking to someone my own age. "Isn't that a good thing?"

"Maybe in some cases, Mom, but there's also a time to realize it's not happening and let it go. I mean, when's the last time you did something together, just the two of you?"

"We live together," I tried, pretty much saying everything right there in three words. The truth was, barring our late night arguments, probably the last thing Wilson and I had done just the two of us was conceive Cooper and E.J. and I both knew it.

"I'll take that as an 'I don't remember.'"

I sighed. "What do you want me to do, Em?"

"It isn't about me," she said. "What do you want to do?"

I didn't have an answer to that, but it didn't end up mattering because my phone had then begun to ring for the third time. I looked at the caller ID and realized that, save Wilson, it was probably the last person I wanted to talk to in that moment. Still, I knew that ignoring the call could only make it worse, and at least this painful conversation would relieve me from the painful conversation I was already having, so I picked it up.

"Hi, Mom," I said, looking for some kind of fake enthusiasm from a place deep within myself.

"Well, good to know you're alive," she said, going with the typical mom greeting.

"I've been at the hospital," I tried explaining.

"Working, or visiting?"

"Working," I said, going with the normal answer because I was positive she couldn't know about Wilson's accident. "Actually, I--"

"That's what I thought. My son-in-law nearly dies and I have to find out from Diane?"

"I've been busy, Mom, I was going to call eventually, I--" I paused there, wondering if I'd had a conversation like this with her since I was in college. "Why were you talking to Diane?"

"We had lunch this afternoon," she said as though it were no big deal. "I'm up in Arlington."

"What?" I demanded, unable to hide my shock and honest-to-goodness outrage. "What on Earth are you doing in Virginia?"