By Katelyn S. Irons (Divorce/Ice Cream/Delightful)
"This is nice." The woman licked her ice cream cone and stared down at her daughter.
There was a silent agreement.
"What do you want?" The twelve year old girl asked with a blank expression on her face.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean what do you want?" Margie wouldn't be tricked.
"Why would I want anything?"
"The ice cream?"
"Yes. I suppose I wanted ice cream." Dark brown dripped down the cone. The woman licked some off her knuckles.
"Not what I meant. What was the reason for the ice cream? What do you want Mother?" Margie bent over her sprinkle covered cone. It was a nice lunch break from school, but there was something up.
"You were always too smart for your own good."
"It's always been good for me. It's just bad for you to try to hide things."
"Stop it." The words bit the air. Tears filled the woman's eyes.
"I'm sorry." Margie placed her hand on the woman's knee.
"It's not you."
"Are you breaking up with me?" Margie smirked.
The woman swore. "Margie! This is serious."
The smirk dripped off her face. "I know."
"You've known for some time haven't you?"
"I'm not blind."
"Too smart for your own good."
Margie shook her head. "Did you really think it would have been better to find out over ice cream?"
"I didn't know how else…"
"You shouldn't have tried to hide it. Makes me feel stupid."
"You're not stupid, Margie."
She nodded. Oh… But she was though. She knew it was all her fault. Her stupid fault.
"Don't look like that." Her mother caught her chin as she turned away.
"It is!" She screamed like her mother knew what she was thinking. "I can't pretend it's not."
"Not what?"
"I can't pretend it's not my fault cause it is." Margie dropped the ice cream and ran outside the shop. She had held it together for so long. Her tears streaked down her face apologetically. The voices. The voices screaming. She couldn't hold it in. Her thoughts raced. It's all my fault. I'm the reason they hate each other.
Margie quickly wiped her eyes as she heard the bell on the door. The woman stepped calmly out of the shop.
She put her hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Don't torture yourself my dear."
"It's always been me that's gotten in the way." Margie straightened herself up and looked up into the woman's eyes.
The woman turned her face away. "We'll survive just the two of us."
"I don't want that unless you mean the two of you."
The woman reached for Margie's hand. "You're not going anywhere. It's his choice."
"His choice to leave? I practically pushed him out." The pat on the head Margie received solidified what she had been considering. There was nothing left for her here except to hurt the only people she had ever loved.
"Everything will be alright. It's not your fault." The woman drove Margie back to school. "I'll see you at dinner."
"Thanks for the ice cream." Margie set her jaw. "It was delightful."
The woman nodded and drove away.
Margie walked up the school steps for what she knew would be the last time. There would be some other place where she could find love without pain. There had to be some other place where ice cream meant more than the telling of bad news.
"This is nice." The woman licked her ice cream cone and stared down at her daughter.
There was a silent agreement.
"What do you want?" The twelve year old girl asked with a blank expression on her face.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean what do you want?" Margie wouldn't be tricked.
"Why would I want anything?"
"The ice cream?"
"Yes. I suppose I wanted ice cream." Dark brown dripped down the cone. The woman licked some off her knuckles.
"Not what I meant. What was the reason for the ice cream? What do you want Mother?" Margie bent over her sprinkle covered cone. It was a nice lunch break from school, but there was something up.
"You were always too smart for your own good."
"It's always been good for me. It's just bad for you to try to hide things."
"Stop it." The words bit the air. Tears filled the woman's eyes.
"I'm sorry." Margie placed her hand on the woman's knee.
"It's not you."
"Are you breaking up with me?" Margie smirked.
The woman swore. "Margie! This is serious."
The smirk dripped off her face. "I know."
"You've known for some time haven't you?"
"I'm not blind."
"Too smart for your own good."
Margie shook her head. "Did you really think it would have been better to find out over ice cream?"
"I didn't know how else…"
"You shouldn't have tried to hide it. Makes me feel stupid."
"You're not stupid, Margie."
She nodded. Oh… But she was though. She knew it was all her fault. Her stupid fault.
"Don't look like that." Her mother caught her chin as she turned away.
"It is!" She screamed like her mother knew what she was thinking. "I can't pretend it's not."
"Not what?"
"I can't pretend it's not my fault cause it is." Margie dropped the ice cream and ran outside the shop. She had held it together for so long. Her tears streaked down her face apologetically. The voices. The voices screaming. She couldn't hold it in. Her thoughts raced. It's all my fault. I'm the reason they hate each other.
Margie quickly wiped her eyes as she heard the bell on the door. The woman stepped calmly out of the shop.
She put her hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Don't torture yourself my dear."
"It's always been me that's gotten in the way." Margie straightened herself up and looked up into the woman's eyes.
The woman turned her face away. "We'll survive just the two of us."
"I don't want that unless you mean the two of you."
The woman reached for Margie's hand. "You're not going anywhere. It's his choice."
"His choice to leave? I practically pushed him out." The pat on the head Margie received solidified what she had been considering. There was nothing left for her here except to hurt the only people she had ever loved.
"Everything will be alright. It's not your fault." The woman drove Margie back to school. "I'll see you at dinner."
"Thanks for the ice cream." Margie set her jaw. "It was delightful."
The woman nodded and drove away.
Margie walked up the school steps for what she knew would be the last time. There would be some other place where she could find love without pain. There had to be some other place where ice cream meant more than the telling of bad news.
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