july 2007
http://cakehole.org/zedpm
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Mikaela has her hair pinned up and her face pressed against the telephone, thin hands rifling through the stack of bills on the table. "For God's sakes, Sam," she shouts impatiently, "do something!"
They never would have married if it hadn't been for Laurie, and even then, sometimes she still isn't enough. There once was a time when she had looked at him with wonder and amazement, kissed him as if he was a hero. But within two months of saving the world she went back to Trent, giving him her body and soul and receiving only shame in return. Sam felt anger, betrayal, loss—but never before had he pitied her. Mikaela, whose old ways were no closer to disappearing than the marks he left on her skin. Mikaela, who told him, It's time for us to grow up. Mikaela, who only said yes because of a blue line.
Reaching into the crib, he picks Laurie up, waving his fingers in her tiny, wide-eyed face. "Shh, shh," he coos. "Daddy's here." Laurie has his curly hair and her mother's bright eyes, but that's where the resemblance stops. She could be an angel or a curse.
After a few minutes, Laurie falls asleep, and Sam walks back to the living room. Mikaela's sitting down at the counter, papers in a mess, and she takes a deep heaving breath as he enters. Sam studies the lines of her neck, the shadows her earrings make on her freckled cheek. She wasn't meant for this marriage, this two-bedroom apartment—just as he wasn't meant for this quiet emptiness, this excuse for a life.
"We saved the world once," Mikaela says quietly. "Why couldn't we save—"
"Ourselves?" Sam says. She looks at him, the weight of three years visible on her face. Her shoulder is thin under his hand. "I wish I hadn't gotten in, either."
