Here is the money that I owe you.
“Here is the money that I owe you. So you can pay the bills.” John held a check out to A.S. The kids were piling into John’s pickup and didn’t notice the two of them talking on the porch. She reached up to take it. “I will give you more when I get paid again.” She looked at the numbers on the check. In one fail swoop, he had paid back all the child support that he had owed ever since the divorce. A wave of guilt washed over A.S. When she heard that he was getting a paycheck from that rich guy, she considered suing him for back child support. Now, he was paying her back for every penny that he owed her. He must have saved almost everything he was getting to do it.
“Thanks.” She just looked at the check. She didn’t really need all that money. She lived in a house her father had bought her when the two of them got married and her parents gave her money every month to cover expenses. It wasn’t like she even deserved the child support that the courts gave her. That’s why she was willing to let it go unpaid for so long. Leave it to John to be faithful to his responsibilities long after everyone had relieved him of them.
“Do you want to have the kids for longer or something?” She watched John shake his head. “I’ll bring ‘em back Sunday night, like normal.” He waited on the porch and her years with him told her that he wanted to say something to her. She waited for him to speak. “I got a real job now. I got a paycheck every two weeks.” A.S. looked at the check in her hand. “It was never about the money, John. I just…” What had it been about? “I just can’t do it.” The large blond man fidgeted on her porch. “But you ARE doin’ it. And you’re doin’ it alone. Why can’t we be a family again?”
A.S. felt the burden of it all wash over her again. “I can be a family just fine. It’s the religion thing I can’t handle, John. You KNOW that. I’m DONE with it and you still go every Sunday just like everything is the same. I can’t do it, John. I can’t keep pretending that there is an imaginary friend in the sky who cares about me. I don’t even like that you take the kids to church every week. I don’t like them getting brainwashed.” John sniffed and his eyes started to get red. He fidgeted some more and then just turned back to the truck to take the kids on their weekend visit with their father.