I didn’t know what to say.
“Is Dad…” Maddie stopped. Her face changed. For a second, she didn’t look sixteen. She looked about six. “Is Dad into her?”
“No,” I said. Too fast. “No, honey.”
“Are you sure?”
I looked at my daughter. I thought about lying. Telling her everything was fine.
But I’ve never lied to Maddie. Not about the big things.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I don’t think so. But I’m scared.”
Maddie stared at me. Then she came around the counter and put her arms around me. She’s taller than me now. She put her chin on the top of my head.
“You should talk to him,” she said. “Like, actually talk. Not the way you guys usually talk, about bills and the gutters and my SATs.”
“When did you get so smart?”
“I’ve always been smart,” Maddie said. “You just didn’t notice because I roll my eyes a lot.”
I talked to him that night.
We were in bed. The lights were off. I could hear the crickets outside the open window.
“Irvin,” I said. “I need to tell you something. And I need you to be honest with me.”
He took his arm off his eyes. He turned his head on the pillow to look at me.
“Okay,” he said.
I told him. All of it. The kitchen table. The cookies. I’m going to take your husband. Men get bored after that many years. You should start preparing for divorce.
I told him about scraping the cookies into the garbage and crying on the kitchen floor. I told him about the gray hairs. The hot flashes. The bathroom mirror.
I told him I was scared she was right.
When I was done, he didn’t say anything for a long time.
Then he sat up. He turned on the bedside lamp.
He looked at me. His face was red. I’d never seen him so angry.
“She said that?” he said. “To you? In our kitchen?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t tell me? For three weeks?”
