Way They Were Dealing With Your Parents' Divorce After a Lifetime of Marriage

1 Ready, Set, Grieve She came back to the table and sat down, and after a moment Shukumar joined her. They wept together, for the things they now knew. --Jhumpa Lahiri, "A Temporary Matter" I was at my office the day my parents split up. I was gearing up to go on vacation. My boyfriend, John, and I were flying out to Washington state, where we were going to drive north of Seattle and ferry over to a cluster of islands in the Puget Sound and camp. It was June 2001. Stacks of legal pads covered my desk. I had been reporting a story on "mean girls" for several weeks. I was fiddling with the beginning of the article when Dad called. "Hiya, Brooke," he said. He asked about my weekend. We talked about when I was coming home. Then Dad grew serious. "I want you to know what happened today," he said. His voice sounded more formal than usual and a bit shaky, which made my heart race the way it does when I stumble out of bed to answer the phone in the middle of the night. Dad rarely called me. Mom would call, and after we caught up, she'd pass the phone on to him. I didn't even think he knew my number. I feared he was going to tell me that he had cancer or that my mother was sick. Did my sister get in a car accident? I asked Dad what was going on and looked outside my office's picture window at the stream of suits on the city street below. Is this the last scene I'm going to see before Dad delivers news that changes my life forever? I focused my eyes on the tightly coiled black telephone wire. I stuck my pointer finger inside the coil and twirled it around. I waited. Before he called, my mind was already racing in twenty different directions. My story was due the following day. I still hadn't gathered all my camping gear for the trip. My younger sister, Chelsea, was deciding whether she should go away to college; it made me consider canceling my trip and visiting home instead to help her decide. "I'm staying out at Junie's for awhile," he said. Junie is my aunt, Dad's youngest sister, and she lives near the ocean. "Oh, like a vacation?" I asked. I let go of the black telephone wire, spinning around to face my orange iMac computer, and felt the tension slide out of my shoulders. I could go back to writing my story on teenage girls. Things are fine, I thought. Then Dad said, more softly this time, "No, not really a vacation, Brock." Dad always called me that nickname when he was explaining something important. "Mom and I are just taking time apart to clear our heads," he said. Dad didn't say that he moved out. Or that he left. Or even, Mom kicked me out. He couldn't. Even Dad wasn't ready to admit how serious this situation was. He sounded embarrassed to have to tell me. He said he had packed up some clothes that morning and brought them out to Junie's. It was temporary. He said not to worry. They were sorting things out. I said, "Well, this is the farthest you've ever taken a fight, huh?" I quickly apologized; I didn't mean to sound petulant. Dad said I sounded fine. I jotted down my Aunt Junie's number on a yellow Post-it note and stuck it to my computer, next to another Post-it that read, "Order Dad's Father's Day gift." I told Dad I loved him. Poor Dad, I thought, and I hung up the phone, feeling bad that my parents were fighting. Then I grew steely and rolled my eyes. This is how my parents were--immature. They were two children who couldn't admit that the one they teased and taunted most was the one they truly wanted. I was more annoyed than upset. Of course they'd take a "break" from each other the week before I was leaving for vacation. I blocked it out. I went to lunch. I chatted about reality TV at the water cooler with friends. I didn't say a word about the conversation with Dad to anyone that afternoon--not even to my boyfriend. Later that night, Mom calledFoster, Brooke Lea is the author of 'Way They Were Dealing With Your Parents' Divorce After a Lifetime of Marriage', published 2006 under ISBN 9781400082100 and ISBN 1400082102.