“Maybe, sweetheart.”
He didn’t.
Eventually, she stopped asking.
Our divorce eventually became official.
I thought protecting Joan from the truth would save her heartbreak.
I didn’t realize I was teaching her to wait for someone who had already chosen to leave.
I worked for an event-planning company, organizing corporate parties.
At home, I used the same creativity to make our little family feel complete.
Every Friday was a celebration.
I was teaching her to wait.
***
One evening, I served spaghetti beneath a handwritten sign reading Emma’s Italian Palace.
“Welcome to the finest restaurant in town!”
Joan inspected her plate.
“Does the chef know we’re eating spaghetti for the third time this week?”
“The chef doesn’t accept complaints.”
Every Friday was a celebration.
“Then I’m giving this place one star.”
We laughed.
Other Fridays, we held ridiculous award ceremonies. Joan once won “Best Performance While Pretending to Enjoy Broccoli.”
Even when money was tight, we found reasons to laugh.
