Ariadne’s fucked up a great deal in her life, and she knows it. She’s run off to war, she’s lain waste to other people’s enemies for no other reason than the rage she felt at the demons of her own past. She drinks, she fights, and six in the evening on any given day finds her in a different stranger’s bed.
But if there’s one saving grace in her life, it’s her children.
They’re ten, eight, and seven when she takes them out to the diner for milkshakes and chips, both to celebrate Mother’s Day and to get away from her Arschloch of a husband, who’s threatening these days to keep her chained by the ankle in the basement because she keeps coming home smelling of another man’s cologne.
“You should try it like this,” she tells the kids, dipping one of her chips in her strawberry milkshake.
“Is that any good?” asks Maksim.
Liesel is the first to try, and when she makes a little mm sound and grins in delight, Billie follows suit. Maks stubbornly keeps his chips and milkshake separate.
Each of Ari’s children has a lovely hand-drawn card for her. She spends the longest time puzzling over Liesel’s; that girl has an artist’s eye like a flashbulb camera, but it disturbs Ari a bit that Liesel chose to draw a startlingly accurate picture of her as she was a few mornings ago, slouched on the couch with a hangover, prying off her high heels. “I saw you in that dress and thought you looked pretty,” says Lise.
She lets Billie order an extra scoop of ice cream and as they’re waiting for the server to bring it over, she wraps an arm around her oldest daughter’s shoulders and gives her a soft squeeze. Her eyes are a little moist, but she’s trying to hide it.
“Is something the matter, Mum?” asks Billie.
It’s just that last year, she received word of Chris’ death, and now all that’s left in the world of the man she loved is Billie and some brown-haired little girl she saw at the funeral, accompanied by the pretty Muggle woman he’d married after Ari wiped herself from his memory, thinking that would be enough to keep him safe.
“It’s just that this is the last time you and I will be able to spend Mother’s Day together until you’re out of school. I’m going to miss you, meine kleine Mausipupsi.”