“You’re so scattered-brain. What if I have some important news to tell you or there’s an emergency—I mean, how am I supposed to reach you or speak to our son or—”
“I’m sorry. I’ll make sure to check it more often. But we—we agreed that we wouldn’t talk every day, that you’d call on Wednesdays.”
Milo was quiet for a moment. “All right. All right,” he said after a while. “Never mind that. How are you? How’s Philip?”
“He’s fine. So am I.” Rain leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to talk to Milo right now, but if he refused to stay on the phone with him, things would escalate quickly and then tomorrow, when Milo came to pick their son up for the weekend, the tension between them would be great enough for Pip to sense. Pip had witnessed enough shouting matches and nasty arguments to last him a lifetime, and Rain was deeply ashamed of how badly they’d both behaved in front of their sensitive son in the last tumultuous years of their marriage.