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She stands and hands me Senna. He’s six, and so big that I can barely hold him anymore. He is going to be tall and athletic like me. Although I’d love him to be a Formula 1 driver or a hockey player, I’ll be happy if he ends up doing anything sport related.
“So, the girls still aren’t talking to you, huh?” I ask Amanda as we leave the banquet hall and head outside.
“Mia was the only one to give me any attention, but she’s not one of the hockey wives,” she says, sadly. “I guess being divorced from the center is worse than being the two-month girlfriend of the reserve goalie.”
When we reach the night air, I’m shaking my head in disapproval. It’s not just this team. I’ve played for other teams and the guy’s girls always form a close-knit circle few can enter. There are rules, and there are penalties. Amanda and I broke a rule, and she’s suffering the penalty of not being married to me anymore.
She’s still welcomed around because of our son, but none of the girls makes the experience easy.
I give Amanda my keys for her to open the backseat door. When I know I’m taking them home, I drive the same SUV I did last year, back when we were still married. It has the booster seat, and I buckle Senna in. Soon he will be too big for it.
All set, I go to the driver’s seat while Amanda waits in the passenger side. She hands me back the keys, and I start the engine. It purrs like a satisfied kitten as I navigate out of the nearly empty parking lot.
We hit the road, both maintaining the usual silence we have grown accustomed to. The suburbs where I used to live with them are far away, and I’m tired, but I wanted to drop them off. I like to do that when I can to spend more time with Senna.
“Mind if I ask you a question, Ethan?” Amanda starts, breaking the silence.
“Hit me.” I don’t take my eyes off the road.
“Senna asked why you don’t live with us anymore.”
“That’s not a question, Amanda,” I say lightly.
“I know, silly,” she says with a tired smile. “I didn’t know how to answer him. Any suggestions?”
I let out a loud, sad sigh as I follow the curve of the road and think. “It’s been six months, Amanda. You and I both know we don’t feel a thing for each other beyond friendship. We didn’t even have sex for the past two years of our marriage.”
“Shh!” She places a finger over her lips. “He might hear you.”
I snicker. Senna is out cold and not even an earthquake would wake him up.
“Amanda…” I continue kindly. “Just tell him that we’re better as friends than as husband and wife. Which is the truth. But we’re still his parents and always will be.”
She sighs, but it’s a sigh of satisfaction. We’re just down the street from her house, in a quiet cul-de-sac.
It is the biggest house in the roundabout, and I park in the driveway, get down, and unstrap Senna. Meanwhile, Amanda unlocks the front door and turns on the living room lights. I quietly follow her upstairs to put Senna to bed.
Amanda and I work like a well-oiled machine. That’s something I could never complain about. But when Senna was born, she decided that being a mom was preferable to being a wife. Instead of growing resentful, I just accepted it and quietly bowed out when I noticed that my presence was no longer needed.
She takes his pajamas out from the drawer while I lift his outer space comforter and lay Senna in bed. I take off his shoes and dirty socks, then his jacket and shirt. As I do, he mumbles sleepily, “I don’t wanna take a bath.”
“You should take a bath, young man, but I’ll let you off the hook tonight,” Amanda responds while I help her put on his pajama shirt.
“A little ice rink dust won’t kill him,” I say. We each grab one of his arms and guide them into the sleeves.
“Hasn’t killed you yet, has it?” she snorts, getting ready to put on his pajama bottoms.
“I guess not…” I say, calmly. “Mia there was a surprise, huh?”
“Did you see Ryan’s face?” She is in full-on gossip mode as I slide on Senna’s pajama bottoms.
“He wanted to find a hole and hide his head in it,” I snicker.
Amanda pulls the covers over Senna and leans down to kiss his temple. When I lean down to do the same, he pushes me away.
He’s getting too big for daddy’s hugs and kisses. Even half asleep, he makes sure to let me know. It hurts, and I wonder if my busy life is pushing us further apart, even though I do my best to be present as much as I can.
“It seemed like you really missed Mia,” Amanda says, turning to me. “By the way you looked at her, that is.”
