The day, my nerves start back up.
The day I dread.
I used to never dread this day. If anything, I couldn’t wait for this day to come. Now, every time it comes, I wait for each hour to pass.
Each minute to pass.
Each second to pass.
Until the evening rolls around and Kai walks through that door.
Then comes the waiting game. Is he going to leave or not?
If he leaves, is he going to stay out all night or come home?
When he comes home, is he going to be shitfaced drunk?
I shouldn’t have to feel this way. It’s what my life has become now. It’s unpredictable. I never know what I’m going to get. I never know if Kai is going to decide to stay with us or not. I wish he would be upfront with me and tell me he’s going to leave sooner than later. So I’m not held up in the house all day with my nerves running through my body, making my skin crawl. Every time I ever do ask him, he always says he isn’t leaving, but then he ends up going out anyway.
I made myself busy for the evening so I kept my mind off the uninvited. Amari and I went to the store earlier andgot a bunch of paint, paintbrushes, and cardstock paper. I want to paint our handprints on the paper and turn our prints into a bouquet by adding stems to the handprints.
I start by spreading newspapers around our living room floor so I don’t get paint anywhere. Our lease contract mentioned that if the carpet needs replacement, the cost will be deducted from our deposit. I don’t want to think about how much replacing the carpet will cost.
I got an assortment of colors: pink, purple, yellow, orange, blue, and green. I pour a little of each on paper plates.
“Are you ready to paint?” I ask Amari—as if she can talk back. I undress her and leave her in a diaper. I’m sure this is going to get very messy. I put on an old pair of yoga pants and a plain black baggy shirt I wore when I was pregnant, just in case the paint doesn’t come out after washing my clothes.
“Okay, let’s see your right hand.” It’s funny how I talk to Amari like she can say something back. I’ll even have a full conversation with her.
I place Amari’s hand in the purple paint and then on the paper. I let her hand go as I stare down at the print. “That doesn’t look bad. Okay, Mommy’s turn.” I wrap my left arm around her to hold her up, place my right hand in the pink, and place my print directly next to hers.
“Oh, shit.” I look down at Amari. She’s touched her face with the paint. It’s all over her chin. It looks like she was trying to put her hands in her mouth. She does that so much now. Good thing she missed her mouth. I quickly clean her hand with a wipe. I place her on her stomach, away from the paint, while I paint stems on the handprints to see what they will look like.
Kai walks in just as I finish up with the stems, and a wave of nerves rushes through me. My stomach knots.
“What are you doing?” he asks as glances around the room.
“Painting.”
“What are you painting?” He grabs Amari off the floor and kisses her. She wiggles around in his arms.
“I’m turning our handprints into flowers.”
He sets Amari back down. “I’m going to go shower.”
I nod.
Anxious thoughts swirl in my mind. I let out a sigh and continue painting so I don’t think about it.
After finishing the first painting, I decide to do another with only Amari's hands.
Thoughts of Bryn come to mind; we used to do activities like this together.
I miss her.
And my mom.
My mom still hasn’t reached out to me. I’ve made no attempt to talk to her, either. I don’t know if they want to see me. Bryn might be mad that I left. She’s too young to understand. I wish she and my mom would meet Amari. My mom would probably forgive me once she met my sweet girl. She would fall in love with her like everyone else has. So would Bryn.
