After several weeks and a lot of thinking, I called “Jude” last night and left her a voicemail. “If you want to talk, call me back.” I didn’t expect her to call me back, but she did. Her voicemail was a lot warmer than mine had been. She said to call her back after ten, when she got out of work. I worked on my paper mache for my crafts class until 10:15 and called her back.

“Okay. I don’t hate you. I do care about you, and of course I care about the kids. I just feel like you don’t give me as much as I give you,” I said, tapping ash from my cigarette into my too small ashtray. (I really wish I hadn’t thrown out the bigger one when I went on my “I’m going to quit smoking!” binge. Sigh.) Continue reading →