With the respiratory therapy done, Nikki turned to her homework while Angela went into the galley-like kitchen to start dinner. A half hour later David came home. He was exhausted, having been up the entire previous night attending a number of sick patients.
“What a night!” he said. He tried to give Nikki a kiss on the cheek, but she pulled away, concentrating on her book. She was sitting at the dining-room table. Her bedroom wasn’t large enough for a desk.
David stepped into the kitchen and was similarly rebuffed by Angela, who was busy with the dinner preparations. Twice spurned, David turned to the refrigerator. After having some difficulty getting the door open with both him and Angela in the same small area, he pulled out a beer.
“We had two AIDS patients come in through the ER with just about every disease known to man,” he said. “On top of that, there were two cardiac arrests. I never even got to see the inside of the on-call room, much less get any sleep.”
“If you’re looking for sympathy you’re talking to the wrong person,” Angela said as she put some pasta on to boil. “You are also in my way.”
“You’re in a great mood,” David said. He moved out of the tiny kitchen and draped himself over one of the stools at the counter that separated the kitchen from the living and dining area.
“My day has been stressful too,” she said. “I had to leave unfinished work in order to pick Nikki up from school. I don’t think it’s fair that I have to do it every day.”
“So this is what you’re hysterical about?” David said. “Picking Nikki up? I thought that had been discussed and decided. Hell, you’re the one who offered, saying your schedule was so much more predictable than mine.”
“Can’t you two be more quiet?” Nikki said. “I’m trying to read.”
“I’m not hysterical!” Angela snapped sotto voce. “I’m just stressed out. I don’t like depending on others to do my work. And on top of that, Nikki had some disturbing news today.”
“Like what?” David asked.
“Ask her,” Angela said.
David slipped off the barstool and squeezed into one of the dining-room chairs. Nikki told him about her day. Angela came into the room and began setting the table around Nikki’s books.
“Are you still as supportive of public school when you hear about guns and drugs in the sixth grade?” Angela asked.
“Public schools have to be supported,” David said. “I went to public school.”
“Times have changed,” Angela said.
“If people like us run away,” David said, “the schools don’t have a chance.”
“I’m not willing to be idealistic when it comes to my daughter’s safety,” Angela snapped.
Once dinner was ready, they ate their spaghetti marinara and salads in strained silence. Nikki continued to read, ignoring her parents. Angela sighed loudly several times and ran her fingers through her hair. She was on the verge of tears. David fumed. After working as hard as he had for the previous thirty-six hours he did not think he deserved this kind of treatment.
Angela suddenly scraped back her chair, picked up her dish, and dropped it into the sink. It broke and both David and Nikki jumped.
“Angela,” David said, struggling to keep his voice under control. “You’re being overly emotional. Let’s talk about picking Nikki up. There has to be another solution.”
Angela wiped a few wayward tears from the corners of her eyes. She resisted the temptation to lash back at David and tell him that his conception of himself as the rational, agreeable partner was hardly reality.
Angela turned around from facing the sink. “You know,” she said, “the real problem is that we have been avoiding making a decision about what to do come July first.”
“I hardly think this is the opportune time to discuss what we are going to do with the rest of our lives,” David said. “We’re exhausted.”
“Oh, beans,” Angela said. She returned to the table and took her seat. “You never think it’s the right time. The problem is time is running out, and no decision is a decision of sorts. July first is less than a month and a half away.”