The Choice

-This was my submission for NYC Midnight's Flash Fiction competition. It won first place and I earned enough points to make it into the second to last round of the competition, when 2,100 writers were cut down to 300. I was given a genre, an object, and a setting. Mine were drama, banana bread, and a petting zoo.

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"Debra."

The snarl around the syllables of my name made it sound like a curse word. I continued to ignore him, instead focusing on the piece of banana bread in front of me. A part of the crust crumbled between my fingers. A smirk tugged at my lip. What kind of child picks banana bread for their birthday cake?

Attempting again to break through, the gruffness in his voice faded slightly. "Deb. Look at me."

I didn't want to. I knew what was coming- sensed it since he first sat across from me at the splintered excuse of a table I was at. Following the instinct to avoid his eyes, to sidestep this conversation, I turned to look at Carter and the animals.

It was a shitty petting zoo, but the little girl who giggled as she darted around didn’t think so. Through her eyes, it must have been the most magical thing she'd ever experienced. Dirt was pancaked on her knees from kneeling down every few minutes to lovingly pat the barn animals beside her. The four-year-old who loved donkeys and banana bread. My daughter.

Trying again to get my attention, he pushed a stack of papers my way. Venomous anger coursed hot through my veins.

"You think this is the time and place to do this? It's Carter's birthday party." My words struck at him, a snake ready to bite.

"Debra, keep your voice down. There's no need to make a scene." He motioned to the stack of papers. "There will never be a right time to discuss this. Might as well get this part over with."

Tears stung at my eyelids as they threatened to spill over my mascara. I took a deep breath to steady myself.

"Why are you doing this?" My voice cracked as the question slipped from my mouth.

Gingerly, his hand pressed onto my arm. "Because I love you. Because I want the best for you. And for Carter."

I jerked my arm out of his grasp. "And you think the best for Carter is to take her mother out of the picture? That somehow you’re better for her?"

Pain flitted across his face, but a look of weariness replaced it quickly. "I'm sorry if you see it that way. It doesn’t change my mind. Look at yourself. The circles under your eyes are telling enough. When was the last time you slept a full night? The last time you felt happy?"

The questions were a one-two punch to my gut. What did it matter if I slept or if I was happy? I was a good mother. I took good care of Carter.

My shoulders gave a pathetic shrug. Answering the questions out loud would set loose the emotions coiled inside of me.

Out of my peripheral I saw her chubby little legs racing towards me. Carter jumped, giving me just enough time to pivot my body and catch her. 

"Momma! I got to pet donkeys!" Her cheeks were flushed with exertion and joy. I nuzzled my head against her.

"I saw sweetheart!! They love you an awful lot. Just like me." I hugged her tightly.

Beaming, she squeezed me back and then hopped out of my grasp. "I love you too, Momma," she chirped, dashing off to continue visiting the other animals at the petting zoo.

No one could deny how much I loved my daughter. Sure, my life was crumbling. But my life didn't matter. Carter's did.

"Honey."

I allowed myself to glance at him. His eyes locked with mine.

"I've seen you like this before."

I clamped my jaw shut to hold back a sob. "I'm fine."

He nodded, not as a way to agree with me, but as a confirmation to himself about what my response would be. His eyes stayed trained on me.

"And the voices? Have they come back?"

Pressure built between my molars. I was grinding them at this point, stealing deep breaths through my nostrils.

Embarrassment heated my face, burned the edges of my eyes, caused my shoulders to heave slightly. I looked down, trying to hide from the truth haunting his face.

He knew. Of course he did. Fathers always know.

"Daddy," the word caught in my throat and trembled. "I can get through this. I'm fine." I looked back over to Carter, the image of my daughter blurred slightly from the tears that were sure to drop any second. My beautiful girl who loved banana bread more than birthday cake, who loved petting zoos more than tiaras and balloons. I tried to think of my life without her. Doing so made it feel like my chest was breaking.

I shook my head fiercely. "I won't leave her."

"Debbie look at the papers. It outlines the program. Three months. I will pay for it. The success rate for this institution is incredibly high. They can help you." He reached across the table again to hold my hand. I let him. Biting my lip, the first of the tears started to roll off my face and splatter onto the sun-stained wood of the table.

“But Carter…” was all I managed to sputter out before an audible sob reverberated out of my chest. Defeat ricocheted between my bones. Fighting against the voices was almost impossible. Everything they whispered to me seemed so real. I knew he was right. My father stood up and moved around the edge of the table, coming to sit next to me. Putting an arm around me, he let me calm myself against him.

“Carter will stay with me while you’re away. We’ll tell her it’s a business trip. I need you to put yourself first for once.”

From the safety of my father’s shoulder, I heard my daughter’s tinkling laugh. A fleeting moment of hope rested inside me as I briefly imagined a world where the voices didn’t interrupt that melody. I wrapped my arms around my dad. “Okay,” I whispered into his chest. “Okay.”