Hello, Sunshine

Danny had been the first casualty of that removal from reality. Every night out—even a night at home—there was the untaken shot of what was actually happening (bad pizza while I worked late), and then there was the “impromptu” Instagram photo of the night, which actually meant taking dozens of selfies until the camera had me at the right angle, “enjoying” the scrumptious pizza, and binge-watching the hottest show. #homemadepies #squeezingintohubby #Waltforpresident

What was the consequence of that? Of suggesting to both of us that the way it actually was hadn’t been enough?

Ethan turned the ignition on. “Maybe the point is that you’re done lying now.”

“I have nothing left to lie about,” I said.

He turned the wheel, his boat kicking forward. “I’d take a compliment where you can get it.”

35

When we arrived back at the house, Rain was pacing on the porch. Furious. It took me a second to notice it, which it shouldn’t have. Furious was pretty much the usual way she greeted me.

I walked around to let Sammy out of the car.

“Hi, Mom!” she called out.

Rain crossed her arms over her chest. “Where the hell have you guys been?” she said.

“We went fishing,” I said as we walked up the steps. “Relax.”

“Relax? The camp called because Sammy didn’t show up. You didn’t think you should maybe call me before hitting the high seas?”

“I did call you,” I said. “And left a message.”

“I did too,” Sammy chimed in.

“Sammy, get inside.”

“Mom . . .”

“Inside!”

Sammy paused at the doorway. I smiled at her, and she waved back, this sad little wave, like she didn’t want to be pulled away.

Rain apparently saw her with the eyes in the back of her head, which only made her angrier.

“Inside now!”

Sammy disappeared, Rain drilling me with a look. “How could you do that?”

“Rain, I swear to you, I didn’t think you’d be upset.”

“I picked up the camp’s call before I heard your message. Do you know what that was like for me? I thought that maybe you guys had an accident. I thought you flaked. I didn’t know what had happened.”

“So you had a really rough five seconds?”

“Do you think this is funny?”

“No, I’m sorry, Rain. I thought it would be fun to do a field trip today as opposed to just sitting around the house.”

“Why on earth do you think you get to decide where to take my kid?”

“You let her skip camp.”

“I let her! Not you,” she said. “You don’t get to make those decisions.”

“Rain, she didn’t want to go. And, I’m telling you, she had a great day. She read and got some air, ate some nachos. There’s nothing to be upset about. She had a blast.”