Vanity Fare Read Online Free PDF Page B

drown my sorrows. In a pile of soapy dishwater.
    “Bye, Mom.”
    I walked to the kitchen, my mind buzzing with a bunch of things: my bank balance, Aidan’s annoying habit of asking for food when he was hungry, my future, his future, our future, and that Ben Folds Five song where Ben Folds demands that the bitch give his money back.

Middlestarch
    No regrets about entering a loveless marriage here . . . you’ll adore this sourdough bread, which delivers exactly what it promises: flavor, depth, and comfort. It looks deep and rich, and that is precisely what it is. It takes a long time to chew, and an even longer time to digest. You’ll enrich your life with every bite you take.
     

 
    4
    THERE WERE SOME DAYS WHERE BEING A MOM TO A SON LIKE Aidan was a joyous, wonderful delight.
    This was not one of those days.
    I took a step forward, for me, at least, and had slicked lipstick on prior to picking Aidan up at school. I hoped that didn’t make me too conspicuous among all the other stay-at-home moms.
    What was it about dedicating your life to another person that made you give up so thoroughly on yourself? Did having a child mean you lost what made you your own person in the first place?
    Of course, who was I to talk? All those unkempt women presumably had husbands at home who actually wanted to have sex with them.
    Me, I had some animal crackers and a six-year-old who usually regarded me only as the conduit to get the disc into the DVD player.
    “Mommy, can we have fun today after school, too?” Yesterday we’d played three mind-numbing hours of some sort of Pokémon activity. I still wasn’t sure what we’d done, but I did know Aidan had won every time.
    “Uh, sure.” I pushed Aidan’s hat down a little lower on his head and checked that his mittens were still attached to his sleeves, even though he refused to wear them. “We can hang out at home. That’s fun, right?”
    His face crumpled in disappointment. “I don’t want the fun to be just with you, that’s no fun,” he said in six-year-old contradictory speak.
    “We can watch TV and eat popcorn.” I upped the stakes. “And I think there’s some Christmas candy left over from the package Grammy sent you.” Just, please, no Pokémon games.
    His face brightened. At least bribery still worked. Even if it was two-month-old stale chocolate.
    “Can we watch a movie?”
    I sighed. “Yes, we can watch a movie.” Was one of Dante’s circles of hell reserved for mothers who allowed their kids to watch TV in the daytime ? Or did it only feel like that?
    He ran all the way home, his little legs pumping. He’d stop periodically and turn around to give me an impatient look. It took only a few minutes to get from school to our apartment, but apparently to him it seemed like an eternity.
    Aidan quickly settled down to watch his daytime movie, Toy Story, munching on popcorn, his little feet wiggling off the end of the couch. I sat down, too, and felt the warmth of his body along my leg. I yanked the throw from the floor and pulled it over us. He leaned into me, and I smelled his delicious little-boy smell: popcorn, innocent sweat, and Old Navy cotton. It didn’t take Dr. Lowell to point out that this was the most important reason not to get overwhelmed.
    And the most important reason to make some money.
    I picked up the pad of paper I had left on the sofa the night before. Time to make another list.
    The most pressing item was to figure out just what this new freelance job required. I knew I had a week to write copy relating to baked goods. Beyond that, my understanding was a bit fuzzy.
    The next would be to figure out how to get involved with the teaching program.
    The third would be to figure out how much money I thought I’d need. And round up some babysitting help for when I needed time away from the apartment.
    I looked down at Aidan’s head. He was so trusting, so certain his parents knew everything.
    The fourth would be to focus on what was good about my