The Sister Season by Jennifer Scott

on the other hand, just claimed it stank.
    “About that,” she said. “Listen, Tai, I had to call Dusty.”
    “Lovely. And what did the ex have to say today?”
    “I told him about . . . about something I caught Eli with a couple of months ago.”
    “Caught him with? You caught him with something?”
    Julia massaged her forehead, realizing she was too close to tears to ward them off. “Pills,” she said, feeling her mouth move around the word, as revolting as vomit. “He was . . . he was threatening suicide.”
    She heard another burst of air from the other end of the phone, and she knew her husband well enough to know that he’d just made the noise that said he didn’t believe it for a second. A
pshaw
noise. It was all a jest. She wished she could be as sure as he was.
    “That kid,” he said. “And so Dusty is making a big deal of this.”
    Annoyance tinged the edges of Julia’s brain. It was a big deal, wasn’t it? “Yes, of course he is. He’s threatening court.”
    A chuckle. “Let him threaten.”
    “It’s not that simple, Tai.”
    “Of course it is. Dusty is no more the superior parent now than he was when you won custody of Eli twelve years ago. Under our roof, Eli has two educated, employed parents, a new home in a gated community, friends, every educational resource at his disposal. . . .”
    So why does he want to die?
Julia had to keep herself from asking.
If his life’s so great, why does he want to leave it? And why can’t I ask him? And would he even tell me? And if he won’t, is that the answer in itself?
    “I suppose you’re right,” she said instead, because to articulate all the confusion looping through her mind would just exhaust her. Even thinking it exhausted her.
    “I know I’m right. Don’t let that asshole get into your head, Julia. He’s been doing it since you were sixteen years old.”
    “I know.” The fire crackled; her back felt as if it were glowing with heat.
    “Listen, we can talk about this later if you want. I’m going to the school today,” he said. “Got some paperwork I might as well catch up on.”
    “Of course.”
    “You going to be okay? I can come down.”
    “No, I’ll be fine.”
    “Good, because I really do think I’m about at the finish line with this project. A few days alone might do it for me.”
    “That’s wonderful, Tai.”
    A pause, a metal lid clanging in the kitchen, a screen door creaking open and then clapping shut. “Tai?”
    “Yeah?”
    “You really think he’s not going to do it?”
    “Not when he figures out how expensive taking you to court will be. Besides, even if he does do it, you’ll win. Dusty is no threat.”
    “No, I mean . . .” Julia swallowed, craned her neck to see if anyone was in the den, listening. She swiveled on the hearth, the bricks catching the corners of her denim pockets and making scraping noises, until she faced the fire. She gazed into the flames, feeling fluid and boneless. Like she’d been holding herself erect for decades and all she needed was to curl up for a good, long rest. “Do you really think Eli was bluffing? About the suicide?”
    “Doc. He’s fine. He’s a teenager. They all say that kind of shit. You can’t take every little threat seriously. You know that. You work with teenagers every day. We both do. We know how they are.”
    But we’re not their parents,
Julia didn’t say to him.
The stakes aren’t as high for us when it’s them. Even the students you really love are someone else’s child.
    He went on. “Remember that freshman in your physics class last year? The one who said if she didn’t get an A she would jump off the Paseo Bridge? Bluff. And that weirdo in one of your first classes who threatened to find our house and burn it down? Bluff. See? They all say stuff like that. We probably did too, and we just can’t remember it.”
    She didn’t want to, but at the moment what choice did she have but to let her husband’s words soothe her? That