The Summer Seekers

“Two weeks of theater workshops but living at home.”

Hardly a holiday by any stretch of the imagination.

Andrew ate a chocolate chip cookie, even though it was technically still breakfast time. “You and Sean going away by yourselves?”

“No.” Even if she’d wanted to, how could they trust the girls after what had happened the last time? As it was, she was going to be doing favors for her neighbors for the rest of her life to compensate.

And she no longer had any confidence that the twins were capable of looking after themselves.

She was planning to go to Oakwood Cottage at some point in order to check on Popeye as she’d promised her mother, but she had no idea how she was going to make that work. They would all have to go, which would stress Sean who couldn’t afford to take the time off right now.

“See you later, Andrew.”

She taught her morning classes, allowing the students latitude because they were excited about it being the last day.

At lunchtime she joined her colleagues in the staff room for a final lunch.

She had three missed calls from Caitlin, all of which she ignored. If she’d had an accident the school would have called.

This was her last opportunity for adult conversation for a while, and on balance she’d rather hear about Wendy’s new herb garden than chase through lunchtime traffic to pick up the trophy Caitlin should have remembered herself.

It was time to get tough. Not by grounding them, or removing privileges as she’d done up until now, but by forcing them to take responsibility. She should have done it before now.

“I can’t believe you didn’t bring the trophy.” It was the first thing Caitlin said when she walked through the door. “I called and called. Why didn’t you pick up the phone?”

“I was teaching.”

“But you always answer the phone, in case it’s an emergency.”

“It never is an emergency.” Would Sean be home early? She could use some moral support.

And then she remembered. Drinks. Which meant that she was here alone with the girls.

Happy Anniversary, Liza.

Caitlin was still giving a performance worthy of the drama award. “I could have been bleeding to death.”

“But you weren

’t.” Liza opened the fridge. “You’re the one who forgot it, Caitlin. You need to be more organized.”

“But I asked you to bring it! That’s being organized.”

Teenage logic.

“I was working.”

“But you could have driven home at lunchtime.”

No one asked her how her day had been, or how she was feeling. No one cared.

Her insides felt hollow. She missed her mother. How ridiculous was that? She wasn’t any closer to her mother than she was to her children but right now she felt closer. It was that conversation in the car. That strange, surprising conversation where her mother had been kind, and praised her. Liza had thought about it a lot. She’d come close to breaking down and telling her mother everything. Not because she was close to her mother, but because there was no one else she felt able to talk to.

She missed intimacy. She missed feeling as if she was special to someone.

Liza closed the fridge slowly. Why had she opened it? She couldn’t remember.

Her head was full of her own mistakes.