“‘Insecure,’” Violet said slowly on a chuckle. “She doesn’t feel good about herself. So she probably lashes out at you because she wants to be like you.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. I know her type,” Violet said, her voice confident.
“But what if that really is why my mama left?” Harper said, her voice sounding wobbly again.
We’d never talked a whole lot about it. I’d just told her that I loved her so much, and that not everyone has two parents. Her mother came around once a year, and that was just how it had always been.
Obviously, it was time to have a chat about it.
“Well, I don’t know any mamas who leave because their daughter has wavy hair. I’ve seen Denise’s hair and it’s very straight, and yours is long and dark and wavy, and everyone wants hair like yours.” She took a breath, and I assumed she was thinking over her next words. “When did you last see your mama?”
“I saw Caroline last year on my birthday. She left me when I was just a little baby girl because she knew Daddy loved me enough for two parents.”
I leaned my head back against the wall and breathed through my nose as I swallowed back the lump forming in my throat.
I do love her enough for two parents. I’d walk through fire for this little girl without hesitation. And that is the fucking truth.
“Well, that sort of blows Denise’s theory to shreds, right? I mean, if you were a baby, she never saw your hair or how tall you were. Denise is a—” She paused, and I hoped like hell she wouldn’t finish that sentence with any of the words that came to my mind. “Sad little girl, I think.”
“You think she’s sad?” Harper asked.
“I do. Because happy people don’t like to hurt others.”
“My mama does come back, but I don’t call her ‘Mama,’ though. She only comes on my birthday because she wants to be friends. Her name is Caroline, and I don’t remember her from last time, ’cause my birthday was so long ago. So, so long ago. But I don’t think she thought I was short, or my hair was too wavy.”
“Of course she didn’t. Your hair is so pretty. I wish mine was that long and that color.”
“Your hair is wavy, and you’re so pretty, Violet.”
They both chuckled, and my fucking chest squeezed. Because my daughter had just felt her first heartache, as far as I knew, and now she was laughing.
“I thinkyou’reso pretty,” Violet said.
“Will you tell me why you were sad today too?” Harper asked, and I listened intently.
“I guess the same reason as you. I got my feelings hurt. Someone said something to me that made me feel extra sad.”
“Who said it to you?” Harper pressed.
“Actually, it was my father.”
Harper gasped dramatically, because I knew all her little sounds, and I could just picture her hands over her face as she looked at Violet. “Daddies are never supposed to make you sad. My daddy only makes me smile.”
Damn straight, baby girl.
“Yeah. Well, mine isn’t that kind of daddy. He’s real selfish, but it’s okay.”
“Because he’s insector?”
Violet’s laughter poured down the hallway. “Yeah. He is very insecure. But I have a question for you.”
“What’s your question?” Harper asked.
“Well, you clearly have the best daddy. Why didn’t you just tell him what Denise said to you? He would have told you what I told you, and you wouldn’t have needed to be sad.”
Exactly.
