Not that I want to go there now.
It was just nice to have a moment like that, where I felt attractive and not like just a mom.
Speaking of being a mom, Bella’s footsteps pad down the hall toward the kitchen, and I follow, calling, “Good morning. How did you sleep?”
“Good.” She plops into her seat at the table, watching me as I grab her favorite generic cereal bag from the cupboard and milk from the fridge.
“Well, we don’t need to worry about missing any buses today, but maybe let’s try to leave a few minutes early, just in case I have a problem with my tire.” I set her bowl and spoon on the table and then start the coffee pot. I spare her the details since she’s only seven. She doesn’t need to know the mechanic wanted me to replace the tire—said it was shot—but I just don’t have the money right now. Tuition payments are draining every last penny I have. So, he patched it up, and said, “You shouldn’t have any problems as long as you don’t drive it too much.” Maybe it’s just my unlucky luck, but something about the way he said that gave me an ominous vibe.
She pours a bowl of cereal as I check the dishwasher for my favorite travel mug. It used to be pink, but most of the enamel coating has worn off. It’s not really a favorite as much as it’s the best of what I have. My dishwasher is empty, though I don’t remember emptying it. Then again, I was up late last night,nervously puttering around in the kitchen. I open the cupboard, find it neatly on the shelf, and retrieve it.
“Do you think we can go to the hockey game tonight?” Bella’s words are muffled by the crunching of her cereal, but I hear them perfectly.
I give her a curious look. “Hockey?”
“Yeah, the one Rigsby was talking about. He said they’re so much fun, and this game is going to be good because it’s against their rival.”
I know exactly which game she’s talking about, but she’s never liked hockey. Not to mention, it will be totally cringe if Jackson sees me there, especially after the awkward conversation last night. I can’t believe I almost broke down in tears. The whole thing was terrible. No, there’s no way I want to show up there—or anywhere Jackson will be—even if I had extra money for tickets. “Um, I mean, it sounds okay, but it’s not really in the budget right now.” I hate to discourage her from any interests, but it’s an honest answer.
“Okay.” Without even a hint of disappointment, her gaze drops back to her bowl, and I marvel at how I got the sweetest little girl on the planet.
My coffee is ready, so I pour my mug and take a sip. It’s the perfect sipping temperature to warm and coat my throat. After another sip, I head toward the bathroom but pause to grab my phone off the counter.
I have a text message.
Chase: I’m not going to be able to make it to Bella’s school thing Friday. I have band practice. Can you drop her off at my place after?
My heart doesn’t fall even a millimeter. I’m numb to his failures, but I know Bella’s not. She still looks at him with stars in her eyes. It breaks my heart because he’s only capable of making the light in her eyes go dim. My thumb hovers over myphone as I fight the urge to argue with him—for her sake. She deserves better, but I’ve long since given up on arguing. Now I just think how sad it is that he is missing out on the greatest gift he’ll ever know. This message doesn’t even need a reply. I delete it.
I turn back to Bella. My mouth opens and closes as I can’t decide if I should tell her now, risking ruining her day, maybe even her week, or—keep it to myself, hoping he changes his mind, but risking her being devastated if he doesn’t show?
“What’s wrong, Mom?” Bella looks at me with a tilt to her head.
“Ah, I got a text from your dad.” I hold the phone up, even though the message is gone. “He said to give you a heads-up, that hemightnot be able to make it to your festival this Friday, but he’s going to do his best to try.”
Why do I lie for him?
Chase doesn’t know the meaning of the word try.
I’m not even bitter. It’s the truth that settles after someone has had second, third, and twentieth chances. After a while their words become dust on a windy day. However, since yesterday was a disaster, I can’t afford to have a repeat day. We need one good day. My eyes lock with hers, and she remains still, as if she’s still processing. “Do you think he’ll make it?”
I blink. I hate to lie to her. Bella is my biggest blessing, but I regret Chase every day. I’m not going to say yes, because then she’ll be upset with me when he doesn’t come. I can’t say no, because she’ll be heartbroken. As much as this life is hard and things happen, we need one good day this week. “I’m hoping he comes.”
Instead of cheering up, her face stays neutral, as if she’s already letting go of him being there. It tugs at my heart that she has to learn this lesson at such a young age. “You know what?” I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, just wanting herto have something to look forward to today, so she doesn’t waste the whole day being sad about this. “I changed my mind. Let’s do the hockey game tonight. It sounds like fun.”
Her eyes shift from side to side before a smile slams on her lips. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah.” I nod, already mentally preparing for it. If we sit in the nosebleed seats and I wear a coat and hat, there’s no way Jackson will even know we are there. The way she looks at me—as if I’m her biggest hero—is worth it. I’m glad I agreed to her suggestion. She’ll be in a good mood all day, and it will take her mind off her dad. We deserve this treat for ourselves. “It’ll be fun.” I nod again, checking the time on my phone. It’s almost time to leave, and I haven’t even changed out of my pajamas yet. “I’ll order some tickets, and we’ll plan on it,” I say as I turn on my heel and race down the hall.
fourteen
Jackson
New plan.
I wear my glove all morning to avoid losing it before the game. It wasn’t so much of a plan as it was a new co-dependent anxiety I unlocked. Every time I went to put my glove in my hockey bag, a wave of nausea crashed over me, and I couldn’t shake it off. So, instead of walking around with my gut in knots, I just walk around with my glove.
It’s fine.
