Page 16 of Parentmoon

“Dallas is here.”

Michael huffs without surprise. “It is his house.”

“Don’t you think that piece of information would have been good to share with me before I came here?”

“I didn’t know he’d be there.” His emphasis on the word he hints at a grievance with Dallas, but I’m quick to dismiss the sound. Instead, I fixate on the belligerence in Michael’s tone. He’s gearing up for a fight, but I have no interest in arguing with my son.

“I need to leave.”

“Why?” The edge remains in his voice.

“Because I shouldn’t be here with Keli’s dad.” My voice rises, cracking even.

“He’s harmless.” Michael huffs a sharp exhale into the phone, as if brushing off his brief irritation with Dallas.

“Of course he is.” I’m not afraid of Dallas. I’m afraid of myself around him. He makes me uncomfortable because of the things I’ve exposed about me. He’s seen me naked. “But I still should leave.”

“Mom, just chill. You already had the days off from work. The trip is paid for. Just relax. Give yourself some down time. You deserve it.”

“How can I relax when I know you’re hurting?”

“Mom.” His intonation is a warning not to push him.

“Where are you?”

“Don’t worry about me right now, okay?”

His avoidance isn’t going unnoticed. “Are you eating? Sleeping?” Please don’t let him be drinking too much or worse, doing something stupid like falling into bed with someone else.

“I’m not Dad.” His sharp tone leaves me momentarily wondering if I said my thoughts aloud.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“But you thought things.”

My son knows me too well. “How are your thoughts? Where is your head?” How is his heart?

“I’ve got to go, okay. Just . . . enjoy yourself. Drink some rum punch and sit in the sun. I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Michael, I—”

The phone is silent. Pulling the device from my ear, I stare down at it. Did he just hang up on me? Why is he pushing me away?

Then again, I don’t know how to heal his broken heart any more than he could have helped me with mine when his father and I finally divorced. While I no longer loved Craig, dissolving our marriage had still hurt. His betrayal of our vows had stung, maybe still do. Admitting he didn’t love me was difficult enough to hear. He didn’t need to drive the knife deeper by sleeping with someone else.

With a sigh, I toss the phone on the nightstand and fall back to the pillows.

Looks like I’d be staying in Belize on an unnecessary parentmoon.

Suddenly, the word takes on a new meaning.

Maybe my son wants a peaceful separation from me.

+ + +

The resort is quiet. As Rosita pours me coffee, she tells me most guests went fishing for the day. However, two brothers who are here for a scuba-diving expedition take a seat at my table. The younger of the two, Artie, jabbers on and on during the entire meal about himself. His appearance borders on slovenly with an oversized T-shirt, stretched and faded from excessive washing. His short curly hair is mussed up and his facial hair is caught between stages. Is it scruff or in need of a shave? He tells me he’s single. He has two kids. He’s from Ohio. He owns a restaurant. If I had to guess, I’d estimate him to be roughly my own age, so mid-forties. I should empathize with his circumstances.

However, he never asks me about myself, and that in itself makes him not-so-attractive.