Free Return to Me by Justina Chen Page A

cheating on her and a scant eight hours later devises a divorce plan? Disregarding my wish, Mom placed another mug of water into the microwave. Then she sliced an apple methodically, first in half, then in quarters. How could she be functioning normally when I felt so hollowed out?
    “You should be in bed,” Mom said after I sniffled, and set the plate of apple slices on the table. With a look of chagrin, she grabbed the clipboard and hastily set it facedown near her cutting board. Too late. I had already seen the damning contents.
    I was about to demand an answer—
What the hell is this about a divorce lawyer?
—when, from the entry, Reid announced his arrival. “I’m home!”
    “We’re in here,” Mom called back as she began cutting a block of cheddar cheese into bite-size cubes.
    The hurricane of hunger that is my brother descended on the platter of snacks. Grabbing an apple slice with one hand, Reid shoved it into his mouth. “Mom, you forgot to core the apple!”He spit out some seeds as he scooped up three pieces of cheese. Mouth full, he asked, “So, when’s Dad coming home tonight?”
    Mom froze, one hand midway to the cabinet, the plate she was about to fetch for Reid forgotten. Then, as if the floor had listed unexpectedly beneath her, Mom grasped the counter with both hands, steadying herself.
    I glared at Reid.
    “What?” he asked, cramming in another two cubes of cheese. “Dad’s not on another business trip, is he?”
    When Mom remained silent, I intended to answer, but how? What words do you use to tell your little brother that Dad has been cheating on Mom? On all of us? Whatever was said would end Reid’s childhood. Mom dragged herself over to the table, aging three decades in that minute. Gently, she slid the barstool back as though a single sound would scare us away.
    Steam warmed my cheeks when I lifted the mug to my lips, and I was grateful that I didn’t have to break the news and break Reid’s heart. Mom sat down heavily next to Reid, stared at her dry hands before she rallied like a general before a battle. She straightened and stated without preamble, “Your father’s been dating another woman.”
    “But he’s married.” Reid frowned, refusing to look at either of us.
    “Your dad is really confused right now. This has nothing to do with you. With either of you.”
    The room careened wildly as anger filled me.
Divorce lawyer!
“That’s because this has everything to do with you. You’ve never once appreciated him.”
    Mom’s eyes welled up like she had been twice betrayed—by husband and daughter, always the partners in crime. No way, had I really just said that to her? Had I? I felt like I was free-falling, limbs flailing. I don’t know which of us shot out of our barstools first—Reid to punch me in the arm or me to flee the kitchen, Mom’s hurt, Dad’s lie, our messed-up lives, what I had said.
    I bolted.
    Jackson. I needed his voice. His belief that everything was going to be okay, that I was still a good person. That he loved me even when I hated myself.

    Retreating to my balcony, I recounted everything that I could remember to Jackson. My mouth was dry and parched when I was done, but I still felt teary and welcomed the reviving power of Jackson’s support:
Your mom’s a great lady. Guys have been known to be inordinately stupid. Your dad will come back. My dad did after he had an affair….
    “He did?” I asked, astonished. The breeze cooled my cheeks, which still felt flushed from bailing on Mom and Reid downstairs. “When?”
    “Five years ago.”
    “What happened?”
    “He hooked up with my au pair.” The sudden bark of Jackson’s wry, embarrassed laugh hurt my ear. I moved the phone away from me a fraction of an inch. “What a cliché, huh?”
    “How old was she?” I asked.
    “Twenty-two.”
    I wasn’t sure why I sought those tawdry details, as if someone else’s worse transgressions could redeem my own father, but I did. “So,” I