On the table lay the divorce decree. Beside it was the notice that criminal charges had been filed against Eleanor for unlawfully obtaining medical records. A little farther over sat a bank statement showing that $12,000 had been returned to Marina’s account.
Marina worked remotely now. She had found a job online while Mikey napped. It covered the rent and groceries.
It didn’t cover much beyond that, but that hardly mattered. For the first time in two years, she laughed out loud when her son did something funny. For the first time in two years, she fell asleep without fear.
Kyle came by in early December for a meeting about the visitation schedule. Marina opened the door and almost didn’t recognize him. He had lost weight, dark circles sat under his eyes, and he was alone—without his mother.
“Can I come in?” he asked. Marina stepped aside and let him into the apartment. Mikey sat on the rug playing with a rubber giraffe.
When he saw his father, he didn’t reach for him. He just looked up, then went back to what he was doing. “I started therapy,” Kyle said, sitting on the edge of the couch. “Twice a week.
The therapist says this is going to take a long time. Maybe years.” Marina said nothing. She waited.
“My mom won’t speak to me,” he added. “Not since the day I told her I was seeing a therapist. She says I betrayed her, that I picked your side.” “Did you?” Marina asked.
Kyle was quiet for a long time, then shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m trying to figure out who I even am without her.
It’s hard.” Marina nodded. She understood.
She had gone through her own version of that three years earlier, in that clinic, in that other state Eleanor had learned about by breaking the law. She knew how painful it was to take yourself apart and put yourself back together. “That’s your road,” she said….
