FISHER HOME
"What in the world is the matter,
Sarah?"
"Don't do this," Sarah says, her
voice suddenly infused with a raw disgust. "Don't--don't try to pull this
comforting routine with me now."
"Sarah!" Paula cries. "What are you
talking about?"
"Don't pretend that you're sorry
things aren't going well with Brent. I know you're really thinking that
this is all my fault and that I ruined it for myself--"
Paula's face is creased not only
by confusion but by hurt. "I'm not thinking those things! I want you to
be happy."
"Yeah, because then you won't have
to listen to me complain anymore or get upset over the things I do, right?"
Sarah shakes her head and her dark blonde ponytail wags behind it. "Don't
even pretend, Mom."
"Where is this coming from? Why are
you acting as if I don't care?"
"Because I know how it is. This whole
thing comes down to Molly or me, and I know how's it gonna be -- exactly
the same as it always has. Molly's right and I'm wrong. I don't want to
hear it."
"Sarah--" Paula wants to reach out
a hand to her daughter but, for reasons she isn't quite understanding,
the movement now seems inappropriate. She draws her hand back. "Dear, what
does this have to do with Molly?"
"Everything! You know." Sarah shoots
to her feet. "Look, Mom, I know that I've made a lot of mistakes. I'm not
denying that. But Molly isn't without blame, either."
"Would you please tell me what is
going on? Why is Molly such an important part of this situation?"
"Because she made herself one!" Sarah
spits.
"Sit down, dear," Paula says. "Explain
what's going on. You confused me enough with what you said at the dinner
party--"
The thought of exposing Molly is
a delicious one, but the potential joy only flashes through Sarah's mind
for an instant before it is countered by the grim possibility that Molly
would retaliate by telling about the hospital incident. Sarah knows that
she shouldn't even care what they think at this point ... but she does.
And that concern is enough to make her keep her mouth shut.
Seeing that her daughter is wrestling
with something, Paula says softly, "Sarah, I can tell that something
is going on. If you're trying to conceal that, you're not doing a very
good job."
"Forget it." Sarah clamps her arms
together in front of her body and turns her back to Paula. "What the hell
does it matter, anyway? Everything is ruined. Brent won't even talk to
me."
"This marriage has brought you nothing
but pain for far too long," Paula says after a moment of helpless silence.
"Maybe it's time that you tried to move on. You--There's more to life than
Brent. You have us. We're here for you, if only you would let us be ..."
Sarah's gaze washes over the mantle
as her mother's words sink in. Years of photographs -- from family gatherings,
graduations, sporting events, weddings -- fill the mantle. The scene as
a whole affects Sarah more than she thought it could. Six people, forming
a whole, huddled together to smile and celebrate ... Those photographs
seem like they are from a different world.
"Thanks for taking Victoria for the
weekend," she says suddenly, adjusting her purse on her arm. "I'll see
you when I get back."
She makes a beeline for the door,
not bothering even to glance back at Paula. In her mind she can see her
mother, an index finger held in the air as she opens her mouth to call
for Sarah not to leave--
She bustles out the door before Paula
can get a word out. And she heads straight down the steps, across the sidewalk,
and into the car.
It seems that she doesn't breathe
again until she is blocks away.
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