SEPTEMBER
I pulled into the Leroys’driveway at 6:45, greeted by the coziest sight. The garage door was open, revealing a mini hockey setup. Jack had Hazel on his hip, helping her hold a hockey stick. Together, they chased after the other three kids, trying to get a ball. Jack’s lean muscles bulged while he faked like he was going to get the ball away from Aspen, but let him shoot anyway.
Aspen sank it in the back of the net and Jack cheered, the sound floating in my open car windows. “A clapper on the empty net! That’ll get you beat up, my man!”
Aspen looked like Jack had manufactured the sun himself. Simultaneously, my heart hurt, swelled, and skipped a beat. Aspen didn’t have an adult man in his life anymore since his dad bailed on us to “work on himself spiritually.” Jack turned into my headlights, his mouth forming the words, “There’s your mama.”
It was the briefest flash into a life I’d never know: a happy family with a good dad looking after my kids. In the fantasy, they’d beourkids. I’d have a partner raising my kids with me. And if I got lucky, after bedtime, I’d have someone to unwindwith. Someone to be around while we packed lunches. Someone to hold and tell my fears to. Someone to love.
Bryce had been none of those things. I take that back—he was a great listener. I wouldn’t have had a second kid with him if he hadn’t been. But he was also extremely self-involved, and that ended up being the thing that ended us.
That, and him leaving before Hazel turned one. My body was falling apart, and he walked away. “If you knew it would be that painful, why did we have another one?”
But there, looking at Hazel in the arms of a caring man with my son glowing in his presence, it was almost too much. I could fantasize that a man like Jack would never have left me because my body quit. He would have helped me in the way I needed. I wouldn’t have to tough it out alone.
I was capable. More than capable. Sure, it was unduly hard at times, but I was doing it. I was doing it even when my body pain felt like I had the flu. I was doing it when I couldn’t stand up straight because my back had popped out of alignment. I was doing it when my ribs rolled out of place, and when my hips popped into forms they shouldn’t, buckling on me when I carried heavy things.
I didn’t have another choice. I had two kids who needed me because there wasn’t anyone else to step up. I did my at-home Pilates workouts to stay in shape enough to prevent my condition from worsening. My kids depended on me.
Jack set Hazel down, and she clutched his fingers for balance while she stood. She still hadn’t taken her first steps, but she got closer all the time. I shook out of my reverie and got out of the car, wincing as my hips popped on the way out. I needed to stop trying to be an athlete and be more mindful of my body’s potential failings. Being close to my period and with increased progesterone, my joints were more lax than normal. I held in my wince with a big smile for the kids.
“Nice goal, Aspen,” I called.
“He’s a natural,” Jack said, walking along with Hazel as she maintained her grip on his fingers. He was bent to toddle her along, a position that I wouldn’t be able to stand up from afterward. She sped up and he laughed. “Speed demon, eh?”
Then, the miracle happened.
Hazel let go of Jack’s fingers and took one, two, then three steps to me before falling back on her butt. She looked at me to figure out how she should feel about it.
“Oh my god,” I breathed. “Hazel! Look at you go! What a big girl!”
I sat on the ground, my back unable to bend and scoop her right away. I had to get close to her. I opened my arms, wanting to lean in to hug her, but my back was starting to spasm. I pushed through the pain with a broad grin. I was genuinely happy.
“Were those her first steps?” Jack asked, bewildered. He sat behind Hazel on the garage floor and helped her stand again. I didn’t answer him because I couldn’t. I was stunned. My baby—my last baby—was walking.
“Yeah. Sometimes I think they just have to be somewhere new. Aspen’s first were at . . . well, at my in-laws’ house.”
Jack nodded, pulling Hazel into his lap. “Yeah, I think my kids were the same. I wasn’t here for either of them, though.”
“On the road for work?” I asked.
The sadness in his eyes was heartbreaking. I couldn’t imagine missing this big moment. I knew working parents did all the time, and I easily could have missed Hazel’s first steps at daycare some day. They might have done me a favor and not told me so it wouldn’t upset me. For what seemed like such a caring dad, it was hard to think of him being gone so much. Parenting’s hard no matter how you do it: working, staying home, traveling.But my heart went out to Jack’s obvious loss of some key moments.
“Yeah,” he said on a quiet growl. He brightened, turning back to Hazel sitting in his lap. “I get to watch you, though, Hazey. Go see Mama.”
My eyebrows raised as Hazel took two wobbly steps into my arms. I hugged her so tight to me and squeezed my eyes shut, her soft skin and squishy cheek against my face. “Baby girl, I’m so proud.”
A ball bounced our way. “Hey!” Jack barked. “Not at the baby!”
That popped my eyes open and I met his gaze. Jack looked the closest I’d seen to smiling beyond his cheer for Aspen’s goal.
“Sorry,” Jack said. “Aspen really is a natural, though. Looks like he might be moving up to U8 soon.”
Aspen and Harper were still in Learn to Play, the stage where kids learn the rules of hockey and well, how to play. Then they all get lumped together for all kids under the age of eight.
I hesitated, the high of Hazel’s first steps dimmed by a reality check. This squishy moment was fleeting, and I wasn’t really sharing it with Jack. He just happened to be there for it. I wasn’t actually parenting with the man sitting across from me. He had money, and I had very little. Parents who could afford hockey would be proud of their kid moving up. Instead, it was just one more thing on my plate. Still, I had to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal and I was that excited parent. “You think?” I asked softly.
“What’s the issue?” Just like in the principal’s office, Jack didn’t mince words, seeing right through my faux excitement.
