“The fourth ticket.” He turned the screen toward me. “It’s mine.”
That made even less sense.
I had spent the morning believing Vanessa planned to leave my son and take his children somewhere without telling him.
But if Eric had a ticket too, then what exactly was she doing?
Vanessa sank into a chair.
“You were supposed to be working until tomorrow.”
“I am supposed to be working until tomorrow.”
“No.” She looked at him. “You were supposed to meet us tonight.”
“How, Vanessa? Through telepathy?”
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“After I picked up the kids.”
Eric stared at her.
She buried her face in her hands for a moment.
“My ticket is separate. I booked mine first. That reservation is yours and the kids’.”
“Where are we supposedly going?”
“To my mom’s.”
That was the argument, apparently.
Vanessa’s mother lived several states away and owned a small house nearby that had been sitting vacant since her aunt moved into assisted living.
Months earlier, Vanessa had suggested they move there.
Eric hadn’t said yes.
But, according to him, he hadn’t said no either.
“I said we’d talk about it when this project was finished,” he told her.
“You always say that.”
“Because I can’t quit my job every time you’re frustrated.”
“I never asked you to quit your job.”
“You asked me to move three states away.”
“I asked you to talk about it!”
Their voices were rising.
“Stop,” I said.
They both looked at me.
“The children are in this house.”
Vanessa glanced toward the hallway and lowered her voice.
“I wasn’t trying to hurt them.”
“Then why did Brooks think he might be living with me?”
Her face fell.
“What?”
“He asked me over breakfast.”
Vanessa looked toward the hallway again.
“I told him things might change.”
“You told him to pack his important things.”
“I didn’t know what Eric was going to do.”
Eric gave a short, incredulous laugh.
“So you packed the kids, bought me an airline ticket, and decided you’d surprise me with a choice?”
Vanessa’s eyes filled.
“You wouldn’t make one.”
The room went quiet.
She looked at him.
“For eight months, I’ve asked you what we’re doing. I’ve asked if you’re going to keep working every night. I’ve asked if we can move. I’ve asked if you can transfer. Every time, you say later.”
“I have responsibilities.”
“So do I.”
“I know that.”
“No, you don’t.”
She pointed toward him.
“Do you know how many dinners you’ve missed this month?”
Eric’s expression turned grim.
“This isn’t about dinner.”
“You’re right. It’s about everything being later. Vacation, later. Moving, later. Having one weekend where you aren’t checking your phone, later.”
She swallowed.
“I got tired of waiting for later.”
I understood her anger more than I wanted to.
Eric had always been responsible, almost to a fault.
After his father died, he’d become even more determined to provide for everyone around him.
Work was how he solved problems.
Unfortunately, work was also how he avoided them.
But understanding Vanessa’s pain did not make what she’d done acceptable.
Eric held up the tablet.
“So what was the plan?”
Vanessa hesitated.
“You were going to meet us at the airport.”
“Again, how was I supposed to know?”
“I was going to call you when I had the kids.”
“And then?”
She looked down.
“I was going to tell you the truth.”
“Which was?”
She lifted her eyes.
