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Celia has just walked out on her mother and Rob, left alone in the house with his mother-in-law, has just called her on her behavior.
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“So
you came down here in the middle of the night to talk to me like that?” Mrs. Gillespie said to Rob. “I don’t need this.” She turned and walked back
upstairs.
Rob
exhaled. Typically Celia’s mother
liked him and Celia had made use of the fact that Rob, who was not set off by
Mrs. Gillespie’s reactivity the way Celia was, could calm her and reason with
her about things. Rob knew his
last comment had not exactly been soothing. But it had been honest.
The
front door was still open though the screen door was shut. Celia’s mom was lazy – she did not
remove the screen door in the winter like his father had always done. Who needs an extra door when there are
no bugs, Dad would always say. But
it occurred to Rob that this was part of the package of being a divorced
mother. There would always be more
work to do than time or energy to do it, and worse, there was no one to ask for
help. Why would she take off
a door in November that only had to be put back on in April? As a wave of sympathy washed over him
for his mother-in-law, he saw the next layer – that Celia had lived with a
tired, depressed, overworked single mother for a decade. In their own ways Celia and her sister
Catherine had tried to help their mother, but Rob could see now that there was
never enough help for someone so needy.
Actually,
Celia walking out as she did, and Rob speaking to Mrs. Gillespie as he had,
might be the best responses they could have enacted. Rob did not necessarily think this would change
Celia’s mom, but hopefully it could change the way Celia dealt with her.
Rob
walked out the front door, checking that it was locked but closing it hard
enough that Celia’s mother would hear it and know they had left, in case she
was waiting in her room to be coaxed back into their good graces.
Celia
was in the driver’s seat of Rob’s car.
Rob walked over to that side of the car and gestured to Celia to open
the window, which she did. She
looked upset, staring out of the windshield.
“Why
don’t you let me drive?” Rob asked.
“Because
I figure you’re still drunk,” Celia said.
She continued to look straight ahead.
Rob
had been drunk when they had gotten in the car, at which point Celia was
ostensibly driving them back to Rob’s parents’ house where they were spending
the weekend. Rob remembered he was
mad at Celia, too, for kidnapping him and driving down here instead, although
he had – admittedly – fallen asleep – well, maybe it was more like passed out –
as soon as his butt hit the seat.
What
happens next?

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