Since Susan had left, Elizabeth closed herselfoff. The mothers in the PTA were acquaintances, but not trustedfriends. Elizabeth knew that walling off her heart and soul was abad move, but it was easier than having to go through losinganother friend. It left her alone, and, if she cared to admit it,depressed. Now, Susan was inviting her to hang out with a bunch ofhens, and stay overnight, since there was bound to be wine, andSusan lived almost two hours away. Elizabeth's first instinct wasto refuse. That was her M.O. these days, refusal. She worked; shetook care of the kids. She took care of the house and ran theerrands. She passed each day, minute by minute, hour by hour. Itwas her shield of armor, protecting her from the outside world. Itdid not, however, protect her from herself. She was in neither themood nor the condition to be social with a bunch of people shedidn't know. But she needed to see Susan. She needed to vent andlaugh and drink her troubles away, if only for one night. If shedidn't have some kind of release soon, she would explode. Orimplode. Or do something terrible and stupid. Elizabeth knew sheneeded this.
Peter was still away. His weeklong trip hadextended and continued longer than expected, but that washis M.O. these days. The week thatloomed ahead was just as hectic as the past one had been. She wasconstantly running the kids to and fro. There was never enough timeto get anything done, other than to sit and wait. And think aboutthe state of her life. She was trying not to do that these days.She was trying not to think about how lonely she was. She wastrying not to think about how she had only talked to Peter threetimes in ten days. Elizabeth realized how empty she felt, butdidn't know what to do about it. She tried making a snide commentto him last night on the phone—one of the rare times that hecalled—but he ignored her. He disconnected abruptly after that. Shewas not sure if he had hung up on her or was disconnected. Shewished she could slam the phone down, but instead angrily turnedthe phone off. Damn modern technology.
She immersed herself in reading romanticnovels, but somehow that made her more depressed. Her own husbandwas not a romantic. In fact, he was anti-romantic. Even when sheasked him point blank, he would not identify any characteristicsthat he loved about Elizabeth. She liked to think that Peter justhad difficulty expressing himself, but deep down she thought hereally just didn't love her. She wasn't sure if he ever had. Shehad difficulty remembering back to those initial feelings ofinfatuation and all-consuming love. And she was the one in therelationship with the good memory. If she could not remember whatit felt like, then Peter, who every so often forgot the street helived on, had no hope of remembering what he probably once lovedabout his spouse. She guessed that was why they did not talk. Otherthan the children, they had nothing in common anymore.
She started to reply to Susan, declining herpolite invitation to get away. And then it occurred to Elizabeth–this might be her only chance to get a break, even for eighteenhours. To laugh again. It might be enough to pull her out of herdepression. Elizabeth quickly picked up her cell phone and calledher mother.
"What's wrong?" No greeting, no hello. Hermother always expected the worst.
"Hi Mom, nothing's wrong."
"Is Teddy all right? Is his stomach stillupset? Did you call the doctor? My co-worker's cousin's daughter'sfriend's child thought she had the stomach bug. Turns out it was alarge tumor. What did the doctor say?"
Elizabeth clenched her jaw and pinched her eyesshut. This was typical. It was a large part of why she didn't callher mother more often. "Teddy's fine. It turns out he had eaten alarge snack at school before he came home and didn't tell me, so Igave him his regular snack and then dinner. He just ate toomuch."
"Did he have a lot of sugar at school? That cando it, you know. All that sugar on the cakes and cookies is notgood for kids. It makes them hyper."
"No, Mom. They only allow healthy snacks atschool. You know we're not allowed to send in cupcakes or cookies."Elizabeth neglected to mention that Teddy's after-school snack hadbeen a bakery cupcake with about three inches of frosting.Elizabeth hated that school took all the fun out of being a kid andthat birthday treats were now limited to watermelon stars andcarrot kabobs. "I'm sure he just ate too much too quicklyyesterday."
"Are you sure? Did you feel hisbelly?"
"No, Mom, I didn't, but he's fine today. He atea really good breakfast. I think he might be going through a growthspurt."
"Do his legs hurt? My legs always caused meterrible pain when I was growing, and you know how much Teddy takesafter me."
Elizabeth clenched her hand into a fist. Shewanted to punch something. "No, Mom, his legs are fine."
"Okay, well I'll let you go then."
"No, Mom, WAIT—I need to ask yousomething."
Agnes sighed, obviously exasperated for notbeing let off the phone. "What is it? You know I'm busy here."Agnes worked for an insurance agent. She felt that the office couldnot run without her constant micromanagement, and that the entireinsurance industry would collapse if she took a day off.
"Yes, Mom, I know how important your work is. Iwas wondering if there would be any way that you could take Teddyand Sydney Friday after school until Saturday?"
"Why?"
That was the thing about asking her mother fora favor—there were always conditions. She could never
