Page 128 of Error Handling

“Don’t make this about us,” Dad says.

“I’m not. I’m just trying to figure out why Sarah felt she needed to lie.”

“I didn’t lie, Mother!” I finally find my voice. But not quickly enough.

“Sarah’s other boyfriend is an HR rep,” Chris says.

My stomach drops to my knees. “He’s not—”

“You have two boyfriends?” Mom gasps.

“No!” I throw down the French fry that I’d squished in my hand.

Mary is watching the conversation unfold in shocked, muted silence. I need her to save me, but even she is rendered speechless by my mother’s lack of decorum.

A rumble of thunder rattles the room.

“Didn’t I warn you not to date two boys at once?” Mom says. “You’ll turn into your father.”

In response to my mom’s last statement, Chris somehow manages to look angrier. “You told her you were doubling up?”

“Doubling up?” I shake my head. “We talked about this. I wasn’t ‘doubling up.’”

Chris gently sets down his fork. “It was nice meeting you all,” he says, and then he stands.

“Chris.” I stand and grab his arm.

He pushes my hand away and says, simply, “Don’t follow me.”

As I watch him walk away, my blood drains to my feet.

“What happened?” Mom says. “Why did he leave?”

Something happens to me then, like when Grinch’s too-small heart expands, only the opposite. Mine shrivels and turns to ash. My blood is still pooled in my feet, replaced by fire that roars through my veins. The raging wind outside feeds the flames.

“What iswrongwith you!” I yell.

Mom’s eyes widen.

“What do you mean, what happened?” I continue. “Youhappened. As always you shot off your mouth without thinking about anyone else’s feelings!”

“That’s not fair,” Mom says. She shrinks back in her chair.

“You know what’s not fair?” My eyes flash from my mom to my dad. “Being stuck in the middle of your juvenile arguments. Having to be the parent while you two act like children. I’m done trying to manage the awkwardness between you two. You’ve been divorced for decades. Get over it!”

“Sarah, calm down,” Mom says. “Your face is turning red.”

“I don’t care if my face is turning red! I don’t care if it turns purple! And I don’t care about this stupid vacation! The only reason you came was to make Dad mad. It wasn’t about me. It’s never about me. It’s always about you!”

Tears prick the back of my eyes, but I will myself not to cry. I continue my rant. “For the first time in my life, I found the perfect guy and you chased him away!”

“I think you did the chasing,” my mom says.

Rage turns my vision red.

“Stop talking, Pat,” Dad says. “You’re making it worse.”

“Stop calling her Pat,” I scream. “Her name is Patricia!”