I should have told her that it was okay, that she could go back to her life. She might not need to work, but she wasn’t idle. She served on numerous charity boards, but she was also hands-on in ways that few other women like her were. She was something else, my stepmother.
All of those were reasons why I should’ve reassured her that I would be fine.
But I couldn’t.
If I was the only one who’d get hurt if I fucked up, I would’ve done it, but I couldn’t risk Evanne getting hurt, whether physically or emotionally.
“Please do,” I said quietly. “I’m going to try to do this myself, but I’ll appreciate having the back-up for a few more days.”
Theresa stood. “You can do this, Alec.” She reached across my desk and gave my hand a squeeze.
“Thank you, Mom.” I didn’t use the title often since my memory of my own mother was still strong, even after all these years, but she understood why I didn’t. Her older kids were the same with my father. But there were times when our parents needed to know that no matter what we called them, we knew how important they were in our lives.
“No thanks needed.” She walked around my desk and kissed the top of my head as if I was a child. “I enjoy every minute I get to spend with my granddaughter. She is something else.”
That she was. I’d known it before, but I had a feeling that the more time I spent with her, the more I’d appreciate it. That hadn’t kept me from being pissed when I’d talked to Keli over the phone Saturday night, though. The fact that she’d ignored my call on Friday hadn’t helped matters much.
I had, at least, gotten a few more details about what had prompted the sudden change. Alessandro had told Keli from moment one that he didn’t want kids, but when she’d still thought of things as casual between them, it hadn’t been an issue. When he’d told her his time in the United States was done, and he would be returning to Italy, she’d panicked. That panic had prompted Alessandro to invite her to move with him. But just her.
Apparently, all of this had reminded Keli that, before Evanne, Keli hadn’t wanted kids either. She loved our daughter, and she’d never treated Evanne with resentment, but for the first time, Keli told me that she felt like her life had been on hold these past eight years. The chance Alessandro offered her wasn’t only to be in a more serious relationship with him, but to experience some measure of that childless existence she’d always wanted.
The guilt she felt was evident as she’d promised she’d be back for regular visits and insisted that she was by no means abandoning her daughter. But when I’d asked her why she hadn’t just come to me so we could come to a new amicable agreement, she hadn’t been able to give me a straight answer. I suspected she’d thought I’d flat-out refuse a change in custody, or at the very least, tie her up in court until Alessandro didn’t want her anymore.
My gut told me that had more to do with it than even I wanted to admit. She was afraid of losing a man more than she was about her daughter’s happiness. I understood that Keli’s plans had been derailed when she found out she was pregnant, but the route she’d taken to try to get them back wasn’t the right one.
I was going to do better. Not comparing myself to Keli, but comparing myself to, well, myself. I wasn’t perfect, and I knew that wasn’t going to change, but I would do my damnedest to be a better man for my daughter.
Starting with picking her up from school.
I could’ve had a driver take us, but I wanted this to be as normal as possible for her, so I drove one of my less ostentatious cars. One that we usually took around the city when she was with me.
As I approached the designated pick-up and drop-off area, I saw Evanne come out of the double-doors. Her face lit up when she saw the car, and she skipped toward it. When she got close enough to see that I was the one driving, she broke into a sprint and made it to the door in record time.
My little runner.
I unlocked the doors, and she yanked open the passenger side door and climbed in. “Daddy! It’s you!”
“How was–”
She didn’t let me get the question out. “I had so much fun! Ms. Browne issooonice, and she asked us all to tell stories about ourselves, and I made a friend named Skylar, and I ranseven lapsaround the playground at recess, and Skylar timed me, and I broke my record three times! Oh and…”
As she prattled on, I laughed and followed as best I could while pulling out of the pick-up area and down toward the school gates.
“…and then Skylar said Miss Brown was ‘foxy’ and I thought that was so funny because she doesn’t look like a fox! She’s pretty, and she wants us…Oh, Ms. Browne is my teacher, and–”
“You told me that before, remember?” I said. Ms. Browne must have made a real impression on her because her teacher had been all Evanne talked about when she and Theresa had come back from the open house.
“I know,” said Evanne, “I was just reminding you. Anyway–”
“Oh, thank you. You know Daddy’s so forgetful.”
Had this been what I was missing, not picking her up from school every day?
“Don’t worry, Daddy. I have a good memory. Anyway, Ms. Browne wants us to write a story about what we did over the summer. Can you help me write it?”
“Oh.” That familiar tension was back in my shoulders. I worked to keep my voice even. “Of course, honey. I’m all yours.”
She was over the moon, and now I was wondering how I was going to make sure Evanne kept up with all her schoolwork. A lot of planning and scheduling went into homework, even in third grade. I was good at planning, fortunately, but just the thought of it gave me a headache.
