Dad had a lawn business, and so he spent most of every Saturday out working on lawns. I don’t know why we went with him, but we did, on many occasions. He was responsible for maintaining DNA’s lawns, and so one Saturday we spent the day at the office off Harry Hines, by the Bank One building. We usually busied ourselves by drawing or playing inside the supply closet. I remember there was a laminator…I think we might have done a lot of laminating.
At the end of one day, Dad had been on the computer at the front desk but was packing up. I actually can’t remember if he was still there, or if he had left the area and I got on the computer after him. He had been on the phone at some point, talking to Abuela, too. I sat down at the computer and saw that his email was up, and it was an email to Abuela. I have no idea what exactly the email said, but I remember it seemed to be in the middle of a conversation, and it mentioned that Mom and Dad were going to separate. I think it said that Mom specifically wanted to separate from Dad.
As I was reading, I remember my pulse quickening. It was exciting, because I knew I was doing something wrong. But then it was scary. Was it true? I don’t remember actually questioning whether or not it was true. It seemed totally obvious to me. But Dad hadn’t told me yet, and now I knew this secret. I was sad, and wasn’t sure how to bring it up. It felt heavy, trying to decide if I should wait until he told me or if I should own up to having read the email.
I think that I closed down the computer, but that Dad came back in and somehow saw that the email was up and that I might have read it. I think, because I don’t remember a direct confrontation, that he realized what had happened but didn’t say anything to me at the office.
I don’t remember getting in the car.
I don’t remember the drive home.
I don’t remember walking into the house.
My next memory is Mom and Dad with Reba and I, in our bedroom. We were all sitting on the floor. I have no idea where Harrison was, except that he was definitely not there. They told us they were going to separate. (I don’t remember how they said it. Did they tell us it was for a few months, and they would reevaluate, at that point?) What I remember is after they had delivered their news, neither Reba nor I cried. We were calm. Mom or Dad commented on this - that they’d expected us to have a bigger reaction. It felt like an affirmation of my maturity.
I don’t remember how the separation started. I think Dad moved into the apartments and we started seeing him every other day? There is no difference between the separation and the divorce in my mind, except: I remember the day they told us they were actually going to get a divorce. Despite how obvious it had seemed that they needed to separate, I was holding out hope that they would somehow stay together. We all got together at Chili’s in Casa Linda (whose house had we been at? Who did we go home with?) and they told us while we ate our kids meals. Their marriage was over.