Not that I wished them ill will.
But still.
With a huff, I pushed myself out of bed. Nana would have said that was enough, time to hit the mat and get my mind right for the day.
I headed downstairs, avoiding the center of the second step from the top. The creak would certainly wake Addie. With every step, memories of Nana were all around me. It’d been that way for the past week, since I went through her place.
She’d been gone for years. When did it get easier?
I slid the coffee table back to open up some floor space and rolled out my mat. Closing my eyes, I took a centering breath. And another.
It began to work.
I moved through a sun flow, concentrating on my breathing. As Nana taught me, I let thoughts come and go, trying not to concentrate on any one thought but let myself feel.
Memories of being with her at the pool, walking through Highland Woods, sitting on the benches downtown and eating ice cream before it melted, they all flashed through my mind.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was here. I felt her, more than ever.
Goddess, it hurt.
I took another breath and turned my thoughts to Jake.
That hurt too.
I knew I was scared.
If I was being honest, I was looking for a reason to push him back.
I was getting too close; my feelings were stronger than I’d anticipated.
He had a power over me, and I didn’t know what to do with that.
“Oh, Nana,” I whispered. “I’m such a mess.”
I lowered to child’s pose and dropped my head to the mat, finally letting the tears spill over without trying to hold any back.
Thanksgiving day and I’d never felt so alone.
* * *
Glancing at the cinnamon rolls in the oven, I debated how much longer they needed. At least five minutes, I decided as I shut the door. The caramel sauce was just beginning to bubble, and the dough was a light brown. The smell, however, rocked my world.
It was a happy memory.
It was just Ads and me today. Noah was up in Chicago, preparing for his move down here. He’d met with the office in Springfield early in the week, then headed back north. He still had some stuff in storage up there and more items packed away at his parents’ place. He was going through it all and then moving down any day.
We’d had some conversations since he left about how we’d co-parent with him back in this country. Part of me seized up, having no desire to have any time without Addie, but that wasn’t fair. He was her dad.
For his part, Noah was not ready to come in and split time. He said it wasn’t fair to Addie or me. Once he got settled, he said he could pick Addie up a few times a week, maybe come over here for dinner once a week. He wanted to ease his transition into our lives as much as possible.
I’m here to make your life easier, Ivy, not harder.
He said that in our last conversation, and I’d been thinking about it since then. What would it be like to have someone else to make parenting decisions with? It could be good. He told me to think of what I saw for us in the future, was it where he’d have Addie every other weekend? Weekly dinners together? He was open to any scenario.
All of it made my heart hurt.
Addie was skipping around the living room, singing something of her own creation. A quick scan of the kitchen counters told me that I had clearly taken on too much. There was the detritus from the final steps of the cinnamon roll recipe. Papers from my checklists for the Reds of Christmas coming up a week from tomorrow. And my recipe cards for dinner tonight. Even though it was just the two of us, Addie had requested her favorites: spiral ham, mac and cheese, Brussel sprouts, and some rolls. We’d be eating leftovers all week.
