Novel Excerpt

Genre: Christian Fiction

by A.E. McNeel

Chapter 21

Dad and I didn’t go back to Saint Augustine‘s since the day he told me about him and Mom getting a divorce. The parking lot of that church will probably always feel like being punched in the stomach. Beck asked me once at school if I’d be coming back, but when I told him what happened in the parking lot after we left, he didn’t ask again. The basketball season started in mid November, anyway, so he didn’t even seem to notice that anything had changed with me. He was so busy with practices and Wednesday night games, and so was I. The dance team cheered for both boys’ and girls’ basketball in winter and spring, so it was even busier than football season.

Beck and I saw each other at school every day, of course. But he didn’t show up at my house unannounced, and I didn’t get any more surprise hugs at school. Honestly, I was still wrestling with my parents’ news and what it meant for the rest of my life, I felt myself retreating from everyone, even Milly. I just wanted to be alone all the time. Even on a Friday night, I would sit through dinner with Dad and then disappear to my room. Sometimes when I heard him going to bed, I’d sneak downstairs to go swimming alone and just float around in the pool like that gross foam you sometimes see at the edges of a lake.

Dad wasn’t even able to tell me what had actually happened been him and Mom when we sat there in the church parking lot. He said he was “still processing,” and we would “talk about it more another time.” Since then, we’ve sat through many silent dinners. But a few times, he has said a bit more. It always starts the same way—with him asking how I’m doing. I’m never really sure how I’m doing, but I’m sure I shouldn’t let him know that. I know the best thing to do is just tell him I’m fine so he doesn’t worry about me. One night last week, he told me that he and Mom were “like two parallel lines” and marriage wasn’t supposed to be like that. Marriage is supposed to be like two people who make one line, apparently.

“Says who?” I challenged feeling braver now that it was just me and Dad living at home. My words came out sharper than usual, just a bit of the iceberg of anger I had been holding inside.

“God,” Dad’s response stopped the conversation right there.