“DADDY’S POOL.”
All four children were standing near the kitchen window.
Their faces were pale.
My youngest was crying.
My oldest looked at me.
“Mommy…”
Then toward the yard.
“Daddy’s pool.”
That nearly destroyed me.
I knelt.
All four came toward me at once.
Arms around my shoulders.
Faces pressed into my neck.
“Our pool is ruined,” my son whispered.
I closed my eyes.
Then forced myself to say what I needed them to hear.
“Listen to me.”
They pulled back.
“Marlene thinks she took something away from our family.”
I looked at each of them.
“She didn’t.”
“But the pool—”
“Things can be repaired.”
My son looked doubtful.
“And when people break rules…”
I kissed his forehead.
“…they eventually learn why those rules existed.”
I sent the children upstairs to get dressed.
Then I sat at my kitchen table.
Phone in front of me.
For two years, I had worked harder to avoid conflict than Marlene had worked to deserve peace.
No more.
