Into the Mystic
Ivy
The brunch had done a number on Addie. She had a blast, to be sure, but ate loads of sugar and didn’t get her typical nap because we’d still been hanging out with Jake’s family. Maybe some kids actually went to sleep easier if the nap was missed, but not Addie. That just meant you could possibly add an hour to bedtime, sometimes more.
Tonight her excuses had been included that she needed a drink, then another, then she had to go to the bathroom. She wanted an extra story, so I read one of her favorites,Jabari Jumps. Not the greatest of choices. Her sleepy voice immediately became more alert, and she began talking about going to the pool.
“Momma, when can I go off the high dive like Jabari?” she said, trying to keep her eyes open. In the glow of the night-light, her long lashes stood out against her cheeks as she gave up the battle of keeping those eyes open. Her blond hair flowed out over her pillow. She had her blanket pulled up to her chin and was surrounded by her stuffed animals, most importantly her stuffed penguin. Sometimes I looked at her and couldn’t believe she was mine.
I leaned over to her side table to turn on her sound machine. Ocean waves filled the room. “Not till summer, baby. Now I will sit here while you go to bed.” I put my hand on top of hers, waiting until she stilled. “I’m here. I’m here. Rest.”
I slowly moved to my typical spot if she was having a hard time, on her rug where I could steal some minutes to meditate while she drifted off for the night. Sinking down, I folded into a cross-legged position and worked to find my center. Where usually I could clear my mind easily, chasing away errant thoughts when they appeared, tonight was a trip on the struggle bus.
I took some centering breaths. On my exhale, Jake’s face appeared in my mind. Nope. Not now. I told myself it wasn’t a big deal. I just needed to chase away distracting thoughts.
Inhale, exhale.
Anxiety popped up as my mind raced to the bookstore proposal. I needed to make a decision and soon. I had no answers. Still.
Inhale, exhale.
Flashes from last night in my room popped right into that cleared-out space in my brain. Shoot. I shook my head and let out a forced exhale, trying again.
Inhale, exhale.
Jake’s mouth trailing down my stomach filled my subconscious.
Inhale, exhale.
I threw in the towel after my happy place refused to stop sending shivers over my core.
A glance at Addie showed that she appeared to be in a solid sleep zone. Crossing my fingers, I said a quick prayer to the goddess above and snuck out of Addie’s room, backing out as I watched her to make sure she didn’t wake. Again.
Out in the hall, I grabbed my phone off the railing outside her room where I’d left it and trotted down the stairs to the kitchen. Once at the fridge, I considered the choices of wine or beer before the unpleasant task of the night.
Jake’s face popped up in my memories again. Argh! Beer it was. I grabbed some of the Black Hole Sun cans he’d brought me on his last visit. I poured it into a glass and headed back to the living room.
I had the overhead lights turned off, and the room was softly lit with some lamps. I placed my beer on the coffee table before heading to my record player to pick an album. Flipping back and forth through my collection of vinyl, I finally settled onMoondance. The album was one of Nana’s favorites, and I needed her with me tonight.
Curling up in the corner of my turquoise sectional, I took comfort in my space. It was eclectic. I had what was likely far too many throw pillows and blankets on here, but it worked for Addie and me. We curled up here to listen to music while we read or colored. Often we had movie night at this spot. Here, surrounded by my plants, my girl, and cozy fabrics, I felt centered and relaxed.
I leaned forward to take another swig of my beer for a moment of bravery. I had this. I did. My parents were expecting my call. With a glance to the time, I winced. In actuality, I was running a bit behind. Usually I called on the second Sunday of every month at nine p.m. Why nine p.m.? Because they knew that was when Addie was asleep. They preferred to talk to her over video chat and only for about ten minutes.Thatcall was every other month because, and I quote,that’s plenty of time for a four-year-old, Ivy. They were certain Addie would have nothing to say monthly, and goddess forbid we combine our chats into one. Whatever. They would be upset that I was late tonight, I knew. They could call me to check in, but that wouldn’t happen. I had to be the one who called, or no call would happen.
I gave a brief thought to how much time would go by without us talking if I refused to be the one who called but immediately dismissed that idea. That was childish. And while they frustrated me to no end at times, they were my parents. I did love them. They were who they were, and I’d stopped wishing for them to be different some time ago.
Shaking my head, I stopped procrastinating and tapped the phone to call them. After two rings, my mom answered.
“Hello, my dear. You’re late.” My mom’s voice flowed out with a bit of irritation mixed in. “Your father is here too.”
“Hello, Ivy,” my dad’s deep voice called.
“Hey guys. Sorry I’m late,” I said, taking comfort in the title track to the album that was now filling the room. I tapped my foot on the couch to the beat. “We went to a brunch with friends today, and Ads was a bear to get down.”
My mom couldn’t hold back atsksound over the phone. Not surprising. “Now, Ivy, that girl is four years old. You don’t want her to be in college relying on you for comfort. You do what we did, march her in her room and tell her it’s bedtime. Shut the door behind you and don’t go back in. She’ll figure it out in no time.”
I rolled my eyes. I mean, it wasn’t like she could see me. “Sure, Mom. Then, soon enough, she’ll know not to come to me when she needs anything.”
“Exactly,” she replied.
