Winter Circuit (The Show Circuit -- Book 2) by Kim Ablon Whitney Page A
Authors: Kim Ablon Whitney
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Today she had on nice jeans and an open front cardigan. Her hair was a rich brown color and she kept it shoulder length. She hosted a haircut and color club with a few women from the neighborhood every six-weeks at our house. Mom did well at home—it was out in the real world that she came to pieces. She had crafted a workable life for herself as long as, for the most part, she stayed home.
“Ooh, look at these colors,” she said, as she clicked on a pair of breeches. “How about one in the blue, one in the brown, and one in the dark gray?”
“Three pairs?” I said. “I don’t even know how much I’m going to be riding.”
“It’s better to have a few extra,” Mom said. Sage advice from the woman who never wanted to run out of anything that would force an unplanned trip into the outside world.
She moved the breeches into the shopping cart and deftly auto-filled the necessary information. Once we had finished shopping for breeches, she clicked over to Vineyard Vines and picked out polo shirts. Then, on to Patagonia for a raincoat, and a down vest for the chilly mornings.
“Mom, what was it like when you met Dad?” I asked. Totally random out of the blue question.
“What do you mean? When I first met him, like the day I met him when he came into the store?”
“No, I mean like when you were first dating and falling in love.”
Mom drew back from the computer. She smiled a nostalgic smile. “It was perfectly lovely.”
“Because you two seemed right for each other?”
“Clearly we weren’t right for each other,” Mom said. “But being in love… well, I don’t have to tell you, do I? It’s like the world is a sunnier, happier place when you’re in love.”
I nodded. I did know what she meant. Or I used to know. Now my days were anything but sunny. I hoped the color would come back to them soon.
“And then you fell out of love?” I said.
I hadn’t talked to either of my parents much about their divorce. In a way it seemed like ancient history, a kind of family story that had been told so many times there was nothing else to add to it. Of course, I hadn’t told it that many times to people in reality. But I’d probably told it to myself again and again in my head, trying to make sense of it. They’d fallen in love and quickly after getting married had Ryan and me, then realized they were all wrong for each other, and my father had asked for a divorce. Somehow I knew that part, but I couldn’t remember being told it. I couldn’t remember any TV-like scene where the parents sat the kids down and told them they were splitting up and one kid cried and the other yelled, “I hate you both,” and ran out of the room.
“One of us fell out of love,” Mom said sadly. “But I guess I understand why.”
The “why” that she was alluding to was her anxiety, which she’d had somewhat under control when she met my father. But it had surged back, and he had left her. But had more happened that I didn’t know about? I thought about Mary Beth.
“Did Dad… I mean was there someone else?”
“It wasn’t because of someone else,” she said.
But that didn’t mean there
wasn’t
someone else. I wanted to know more but I also didn’t want to upset Mom, making her relive painful memories of when Dad left her.
“We were too different,” Mom said. “We lived in different worlds. Your father’s life is the business world. I couldn’t be more different than that.”
So that was why they’d divorced? It made sense in a way. Dad’s relationship with Monica seemed to work because they both lived business lifestyles and understood the sacrifices that way of life involved.
Mom returned to the computer. She opened her email, reviewing the confirmation emails from the stores. “You are going to have such a good time in Florida.
Today she had on nice jeans and an open front cardigan. Her hair was a rich brown color and she kept it shoulder length. She hosted a haircut and color club with a few women from the neighborhood every six-weeks at our house. Mom did well at home—it was out in the real world that she came to pieces. She had crafted a workable life for herself as long as, for the most part, she stayed home.
“Ooh, look at these colors,” she said, as she clicked on a pair of breeches. “How about one in the blue, one in the brown, and one in the dark gray?”
“Three pairs?” I said. “I don’t even know how much I’m going to be riding.”
“It’s better to have a few extra,” Mom said. Sage advice from the woman who never wanted to run out of anything that would force an unplanned trip into the outside world.
She moved the breeches into the shopping cart and deftly auto-filled the necessary information. Once we had finished shopping for breeches, she clicked over to Vineyard Vines and picked out polo shirts. Then, on to Patagonia for a raincoat, and a down vest for the chilly mornings.
“Mom, what was it like when you met Dad?” I asked. Totally random out of the blue question.
“What do you mean? When I first met him, like the day I met him when he came into the store?”
“No, I mean like when you were first dating and falling in love.”
Mom drew back from the computer. She smiled a nostalgic smile. “It was perfectly lovely.”
“Because you two seemed right for each other?”
“Clearly we weren’t right for each other,” Mom said. “But being in love… well, I don’t have to tell you, do I? It’s like the world is a sunnier, happier place when you’re in love.”
I nodded. I did know what she meant. Or I used to know. Now my days were anything but sunny. I hoped the color would come back to them soon.
“And then you fell out of love?” I said.
I hadn’t talked to either of my parents much about their divorce. In a way it seemed like ancient history, a kind of family story that had been told so many times there was nothing else to add to it. Of course, I hadn’t told it that many times to people in reality. But I’d probably told it to myself again and again in my head, trying to make sense of it. They’d fallen in love and quickly after getting married had Ryan and me, then realized they were all wrong for each other, and my father had asked for a divorce. Somehow I knew that part, but I couldn’t remember being told it. I couldn’t remember any TV-like scene where the parents sat the kids down and told them they were splitting up and one kid cried and the other yelled, “I hate you both,” and ran out of the room.
“One of us fell out of love,” Mom said sadly. “But I guess I understand why.”
The “why” that she was alluding to was her anxiety, which she’d had somewhat under control when she met my father. But it had surged back, and he had left her. But had more happened that I didn’t know about? I thought about Mary Beth.
“Did Dad… I mean was there someone else?”
“It wasn’t because of someone else,” she said.
But that didn’t mean there
wasn’t
someone else. I wanted to know more but I also didn’t want to upset Mom, making her relive painful memories of when Dad left her.
“We were too different,” Mom said. “We lived in different worlds. Your father’s life is the business world. I couldn’t be more different than that.”
So that was why they’d divorced? It made sense in a way. Dad’s relationship with Monica seemed to work because they both lived business lifestyles and understood the sacrifices that way of life involved.
Mom returned to the computer. She opened her email, reviewing the confirmation emails from the stores. “You are going to have such a good time in Florida.
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