QUACK

The Leaving

The moment we return from Henry’s place after that botched Christmas dinner, with Ethan and Sasha shivering from the cold and me shaking with anger, I know there is only one thing to do.

I know we have to leave.

Easier said than done, of course.

There’s nothing left for us here, but there’s nothing left for us in Florida either. All I know is, Henry and his bird of a wife and his bastard of a real son Max won’t be there. Doubtless, I’d be out of money all over again if we leave, but I have somehow always made things work. I tell myself that Sasha won’t be there, but there will always be somebody. I tell myself that Aaron won’t be there, but there will always be somebody. I tell myself all sorts of things, but I cannot convince myself.

I’m not a very good bartender. I’m not a very good mother. I’m not a very good person in general. But one thing I know I am good at is leaving.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Florida, August 2009

My boss and probably only friend, Vera, stares at me from across her desk, where she has her fingers laced together and wrapped around a bottle of beer.

“Come again?” she says, when I tell her my plans.

"You heard me,” I say excitedly. “Ethan and I are going to New York. I’ve already found a place to say, a school for Ethan with a good SpecEd program.”

Vera barks out a laugh. “Bitch, what the hell is in New York?” When I don’t answer verbally, more with a sudden blush of my face, Vera laughs some more. “You’re going to New York for that lawyer guy who got you knocked up, aren’t you?”

“Henry,” I say, my voice caressing the syllables of your name.

Vera looks me up and down. “What for, Sal?” she asks, her voice turning serious. “I mean, you haven’t heard from him in years. He doesn’t seem like the stand-up sort of guy. What if you go to New York and he sees you with your son, whom you’ve said on several occasions, is the spitting image of Daddy Dearest? What then?”

I know the answer to that: I do nothing. I don’t want you in our lives. I just want to be near you. This has nothing to do with Ethan and more to do with me. I just like the idea of the possibility of seeing you again, the possibility of us, eyes meeting across a busy street and, bam. Just picking up where we left off the first time around.

Vera shakes her head. ”You know how I take to assholes who treat women like playthings,” she says. ”I don’t even know why you’re telling me.”

“Well, if I leave,” I start, “you’ll be a waitress short.”

She waves the idea away. ”Plenty of desperate women for my picking,” she says with a derisive snort. “You aren’t irreplaceable, you know. In fact, I might just find somehow who’d happily do you job with even less pay. Ha!”

I tuck a wave of hair behind my ear. “That’s the other thing, V,” I say nervously. “I need to borrow money for tickets. And a little extra to help us out.”

Vera stares at me like I’ve lost my mind completely, which is also quite possible.

She is the only person I know who knows me like I know myself. She was there to pick up the smashed-up pieces of my heart when you left. She was there to squeeze my hand the entire time I was in labor. She was the person I ran to whenever I couldn’t take Ethan anymore. She is like a mother to me, really.