“Sure, yeah,” she said.
She checked her mental list:
Shower
Dress
Blow-dry hair
Makeup
Breakfast
Breastfeed/bottle
Dress June
Double-check June’s day care bag
Double-check work bag—pump supplies!
When in doubt, she’d always relied on lists, switching into a robotic going-through-the-motions mode that didn’t give her time to consider any troublesome feelings. That was the only way she would get through this day and all the days after it—by dismissing her feelings.
By seven thirty, she had accomplished all the items on her list and looked like a woman who was ready for the hours ahead of her. She stood by the front door, June in her car seat on the floor, June’s diaper bag and her work bag next to each other.
“You look great, honey,” Jeff said.
He seemed pleased. He must have worried that she’d be unable to get out of bed. He must have foreseen a complete breakdown.
“I can go with you to drop off June,” he said.
“It’s okay. I’ve got it.”
His presence at drop-off wouldn’t be a comfort. That was why she didn’t want him to come. He’d be far too breezy and chipper, which would only make her feel worse about the avalanche of despair she expected.
“I’m proud of you,” he said.
He gave her a kiss on the cheek, then kneeled to give June a kiss on the cheek.
“Look at my girls, going off into the world.”
Breezy and chipper.
He helped load them into the car, his girls going off into the world. Then he gave Gwen another kiss on the cheek and said he’d call her in an hour to check in. She sat in the driver’s seat, seat belt on, and watched him pull out of the driveway in the rearview mirror. When he was down the street, she considered her options. What if they just didn’t go? How long could she pretend to go to work while actually staying at home with June? The day care wouldn’t call Jeff; they would call the mother. Everyone called the mother. She could say they’d hada change of plans, unenroll, lose the two-grand deposit. She could tell her boss she needed another month, the alternative being a resignation. Jeff would be none the wiser for at least a week or two.
Her phone buzzed with a text, and she hoped it was Leigh checking in because she remembered this was The Day. But it was just Jeff.
You can do this
If he hadn’t sent the text, maybe she would have gone forward with her desperate scheme. Those simple words from her oh-so-simple husband were enough to stop the train of her thoughts from barreling down its derelict track. She started the car.
They’d selected the Seattle Child Development Center for day care because it was right downtown, near both of their offices. Gwen hadn’t been to the facility since they’d selected it, when she was barely pregnant and already touring various places with the hope of getting on a wait list that wasn’t too long.
She pulled into the parking lot, and her anxiety spiked immediately. There were so many cars pulling in and out that a woman in an orange vest was there to direct traffic. Gwen was positioned precariously in the driveway, the back half of her car still in the street, making her the target of aggressive honking that kick-started her crying earlier than she’d anticipated.
The woman in the orange vest made eye contact and, upon seeing Gwen’s obvious distress, waved her over to a spot near the back of the lot. Gwen was still crying as she pulled in and put the car in park. When she went to open her door, she saw that the woman in the orange vest was standing there, a look of pity on her face that made Gwen want to curl up in a ball on the floor beneath the steering wheel for the rest of the day.
“Oh, honey,” the woman said. “First day?”
