Same As It Ever Was

by Claire Lombardo

They are a family whose clock is always slightly askew, affections misplaced and offenses outsized. But it’s better, she thinks—please, God, it must be better—than the complete absence thereof.

The Suburbs, mecca for successful adults with incomprehensible job titles and their disillusioned stay-at-home spouses, oak trees and opulence and artfully disguised despair.

Parenthood was a persistent cruelty, a constant, simultaneous desire to be together and apart.