Prompt Eighteen

A Heart Divided

(Pre-Series)

Barbara looked at the letter again. She kept scanning it, looking for a reason. A real reason, not some inane nonsense like, "This just isn't working out," and, "I have to be true to myself." "You deserve better," sounded so paltry. "You'll find someone better for you," even dumber.

Had there been signs? He'd been distant lately, but distant could mean a man needed time to himself. Like a day trip or working on a project. She hadn't thought it might mean sauntering out the door and never looking back. If he was unhappy he could have said something. Anything.

She folded the letter and put it into her dresser drawer and went downstairs. It didn't feel real. The world was distant, hovering like a warm breath, and she wondered if coffee might help. Did she want it to help?

"Mommy?" She looked back up the stairs. Jim stood at the top, rubbing his eyes. "Where's Daddy? He said we'd work on my bike today."

Oh. Now it felt too real. Now the world was cracking and it really hit her that James Lake was gone. She gestured for Jim to come down the stairs and he did, careful on the steps. Barbara took him in her arms, wrapping him in a hug and lifting him. She said nothing at first, drinking in the feeling of his sleepy warmth and the moment that wasn't yet destroyed. "Honey, Mommy...needs to explain something to you."

How did one explain this? It wasn't the kind of thing she'd ever had to learn about. Her father had never walked out, never given up on his family. This shouldn't be one of those "rite of passage" talks like the birds and the bees.

She carried her son to the sofa and sat him down. His blue pajamas had rockets all over them - James would pretend he was launching him into space. Jim watched her quietly, eyes big. She sat beside him and, after thinking on it more, she let him crawl into her lap. "What's wrong?" he asked. He was such a sweet thing, her darling boy.

"Jim, your father...he's not here. He left early this morning." Barbara's heart recoiled at the words. No, no, it couldn't be. He wouldn't leave. The man that had fathered her little boy, the man she loved so much, he wouldn't just-

Barbara took a deep breath. Jim frowned. "Did he go to the store?"

"No sweetie. I don't think Daddy is coming back." She waited as Jim absorbed this. His puzzled frown became bewildered.

"Why?"

Wasn't that the question? Certainly there had been sentences explaining it, but they didn't stick. They didn't ring with truth.

What did one say? Daddy didn't love them anymore, at least not enough to stay? Daddy had found another girl and decided he wanted to go with her? Daddy didn't care about the responsibility to his wife and child and took off to leave them in the aftermath of bills and her schooling and childcare and raising a little boy alone while she worked and tried to keep a home alone?

Barbara kissed Jim's forehead. "I don't exactly know baby. Daddy left a note saying he needed to leave, and he won't be coming back. It's...it's just us now."

"But why!?" Jim grabbed her sleeve, staring at her insistently. "Why wouldn't he take us with him!?"

"I don't know." Barbara hugged him close. "I don't know Jim. Daddy seemed to think this...just wasn't right for him. I would tell you if I knew why, but I don't. I'm so sorry honey."

Jim had started to cry and Barbara shut her eyes as tight as she could because she didn't want him seeing hers. "Is - is it because I broke the cup yesterday?" He hid his face in her neck and sobbed. "I'll get - get a new one-"

"No." She took his face in her hands and wiped his cheeks. "Jim, you listen to me. This is not your fault. None of this is your fault. Daddy's problems, whatever they are, belong to him. You didn't do anything wrong."

Jim's face was pink, tears rolling down his cheeks. He sniffed. "Mommy." He put out a hand and touched her face and she hated that she was crying now too. Clumsily he pushed a hand over her cheek. "Mommy, I don't understand."

"I don't either baby. I don't know what to tell you. But Mommy's staying right here. It's going to be okay. I know you're sad. But I promise everything will be okay." She held him close, as much for her comfort as for his. He wrapped his little arms tight around her neck.

Barbara Lake's heart broke, parsed into pieces by the betrayal. She buried her face in Jim's shirt and rocked him, breathing slow and deep. Tears didn't do much; they were healthy in venting emotions, but Barbara had never been that much of a crier. She needed to make things okay for her boy right now. There would be time to ponder on James Lake later. Right now…

She wiped her face before picking him up, carrying him to the kitchen so she could sit him at the table. Barbara snagged a tissue along the way, dabbing his cheeks and clearing his face. "Jim, it's going to be all right." Her voice was solid now, and Jim looked at her as if rallying himself. "I need to call Grandma and Grandpa. Then we'll…we'll go get breakfast. What sounds good to you?"

He shook his head. "My tummy hurts."

"Yeah, I know…mine kind of does too." Barbara swept his hair aside neatly. "But you know, I bet after a little bit we'll feel up to chocolate-chip waffles. That café nearby should be open soon."

As if in spite of himself, Jim did lift his head a little. "M'kay." He wiped his face hard again. "It's okay Mommy. We're…we're gonna be okay."

How did a little boy know to say that? Barbara kissed his forehead again. "You got that right. I'll help you get dressed in a minute. Let me call your grandparents and we'll get some food, okay?" She needed to…something. Say something, scream something. Break down, curse like a sailor. Something.

But for right now, she needed to cut out that piece of her heart that was bleeding and stuff it away. She needed to take care of her boy. So she ignored that ache in her chest and pulled instead the part of herself that was calm, cool, intelligent. The part that could see a man bleeding out and remember how to apply a tourniquet with his children screaming in fear.

Barbara pushed away the brokenness in her and found her phone. She dialed her mother, never leaving Jim alone in that too big, too quiet kitchen.

End of Prompt Eighteen