Chapter 6: Starting Over, Looking Back

After the divorce, my mom quit her job at the warehouse and moved to Columbus—the city where my college is. She packed up her things and started over. I was glad to have her close.

She said she couldn’t stand the gossip in the old neighborhood. The whispers followed her everywhere. I understood. Small towns never let you forget.

"Mom, the pay’s better here anyway. I’m glad you came. We can keep each other company." I squeezed her hand, grateful she was with me. She smiled through her tears.

We ate at a diner near campus, and halfway through, my mom started crying. She pushed her plate away, tears rolling down her cheeks. I reached for her hand.

"Mom, what’s wrong?" I grabbed her hand, worried. I thought maybe she was missing Dad. The thought made my heart ache.

Was she missing my dad? The question hovered between us. I waited for her answer.

She shook her head, crying. "I just feel guilty. Even though your dad was a jerk, I shouldn’t have used tricks to get a divorce. Looking back, I feel like I was too ruthless."

"You mean Dad leaving with nothing? Don’t worry, I won’t abandon him when he’s old." I tried to reassure her, hoping it would help.

She shook her head. "No, I mean I played a little trick. When he refused to divorce, I was fed up. At the market, I ran into Linda, who bragged that she got another three hundred from your dad just by saying she had no grocery money. She even waved the crab legs she’d bought with it."

"I looked at my own basket—eggplants and cucumbers, picked for the bruises to save money. I hadn’t bought meat in a week, but she could spend your dad’s money freely. I was furious."

"Maybe it was impulse, maybe subconscious. I told Linda, ‘A thousand? Three hundred? That’s nothing. I have Rick’s debit card—the one his paycheck goes into. He only borrowed on credit cards because I keep the checkbook. I control over ten thousand in savings.’"

"I said it just to make her go after your dad, to speed up the divorce. I didn’t expect her to be so shameless. That night, she lured your dad over with the mouse excuse."

I understood—Linda thought we had a fortune, so she latched onto my dad. The truth was, there was nothing left to give. I almost laughed.

"Savannah, I just wanted to piss her off, but I ended up pushing your dad into the fire. She’s so calculating, your dad is no match. He’s doomed with her."

I handed her a napkin. She looked at me, teary-eyed, "Savannah, am I a bad person?"

"Mom, don’t blame yourself. It was their own choices. Linda was malicious, and Dad was clueless. They’re adults—they’re responsible. You didn’t force them into bed."

"Will you hate me?" she asked timidly. Her voice was small, almost childlike. I shook my head.

"Don’t be silly. You’re the kindest person I know," I said, wiping her tears. I meant it. I was proud of her.

Honestly, I was proud of her. She wasn’t just endlessly patient—when pushed, she could protect herself. She’d finally stood up for us. I felt safer because of it.

The smaller the town, the more people gossip. News traveled faster than the wind. There was no escaping it.

Even after moving to the city, old neighbors kept calling with updates on my dad. They loved to stir the pot. I rolled my eyes every time.

Apparently, as soon as my mom left, my dad moved in with Linda. When she realized he didn’t get any savings in the divorce, she threw a fit, convinced he’d hidden the money with us. She screamed at him in the yard, her voice echoing down the block. The neighbors watched like it was free entertainment.

"Rick, you’re heartless! I got nothing from you!" she screamed so loudly the whole block could hear. People watched from their porches, shaking their heads. I could picture it all.

Eventually, my dad agreed to let her manage his direct-deposit debit card, and she calmed down. She kept a tight grip on the finances. He just went along with it.

They lived together, but it was constant chaos—fights every other day. The walls shook with their arguments. The neighbors joked about it.

If my dad gave a neighbor’s kid some of Linda’s cake, she’d scream at him all night. She counted every slice. I almost felt sorry for him.

If a neighbor borrowed his pickup and returned it with an empty tank, she’d demand he ask for gas money, but he refused, saying it was too embarrassing, and she’d go off again. The arguments were endless. I wondered how long they’d last.

When my aunt stole two of Linda’s dresses, she wanted them back, but my dad said, "It’s just two dresses. What’s the big deal?"

Linda would yell that she’d never met anyone so stupid—always putting outsiders first. Her voice could be heard through closed windows. The neighborhood buzzed with gossip.

Neighbors joked that my dad was driving her crazy. She used to act so delicate and pitiful, but now she’d yell and even fight. The transformation was complete. I almost laughed.

Maybe she’d always been like that, or maybe my dad just brought it out in her. Either way, they were a perfect storm. I wondered if they’d survive each other.

Either way, every time my dad was generous, she’d attack him. The cycle never ended. I almost pitied them both.

He never fought back, just stood there and took it. He looked smaller every time. It was sad to watch.

The more he endured, the angrier she got. The fights got louder, the silences longer. The house must have felt like a war zone.

Honestly, I understood her. Living with someone like my dad would drive anyone mad. He was impossible to change. I was glad my mom got out.

Not everyone had my mom’s patience. Most people would’ve snapped long before. Linda was no exception.

I figured they wouldn’t last long. After all, she didn’t have years of history with him—they weren’t even legally married. There was nothing holding them together. I waited for the call.

Sure enough, after a while, a neighbor called my mom: "Rick and Linda broke up! I saw her kick him out, yelling at him to get lost. Haven’t seen him around lately. Carol, do you think he went to the city to find you?" The neighbor sounded gleeful, almost triumphant. My mom just rolled her eyes.

My mom and I exchanged a knowing look. We didn’t need to say a word. We both knew the truth.