“To me,motheris a verb. It’s acting in service of your child, as a shepherd for them through the world,” she said. “It’s nurturing their bodies and minds in a consistent and dedicated way.”
Sitka nodded. “If that is your definition, then you are a good mother.”
“You sound like a philosopher,” Angeni said. She forced a laugh to hide her uneasiness.
Sitka sat cross-legged on the ground, putting Freya in the space between her knees. She used Freya’s finger to trace hearts in the dirt.
“Can I ask what your definition of a good mother is?” Angeni said.
Sitka didn’t hesitate with this answer. “I think a good mother is, first and foremost, a fully realized woman, someone who loves herself and sets an example for her child of self-love.”
Angeni found her answer interesting, the way it centered the mother in the mothering instead of the child. It made sense, considering Sitka’s age. When Angeni was in her twenties, she could not see beyond herself either.
“I can appreciate that definition,” Angeni said neutrally.
Freya’s hands were getting filthy, and Angeni kept a close eye on her to make sure she didn’t put them in her mouth.
“Should we get back?” she asked. “Freya might need a bath.”
Sitka stood, and Angeni lifted Freya into her arms. As they headed back to the house, Sitka lingered behind Angeni and Freya instead of walking side by side with them.
“I think I should tell you,” Sitka said, her voice soft and quiet.
Angeni stopped and turned. Sitka stopped then too.
“I don’t know how long I’m going to stay,” Sitka said.
So there it was.
“Oh,” Angeni said. She was both surprised and not surprised at all. “Okay. I mean, you’re under no obligation, of course. Do you have a timeframe in mind?”
“I don’t know,” Sitka said. “I’ve already stayed longer than I thought I would. I know you need help with Freya when you work on the book. I just—”
Angeni felt a familiar defensiveness arrive within her. It was the defensiveness triggered by her abandonment wounding. For so many years, the moment anyone had hinted at leaving her, Angeni had shut down and had to leave them first. She had thought she’d healed that wound, but here it was again.
“I don’t want you to stay if you don’t want to stay.”
It came out childish. She turned, resumed walking. Freya started fussing in her arms. She took a deep breath, remembered that she couldn’t let her fears overtake her.
She turned around, locked eyes with Sitka. “We can pay you,” she said.
“Oh,” Sitka said. Her brows were knitted together as she appeared to contemplate this unexpected offer.
Angeni thought of what Erik had said from the beginning, how they should pay Sitka. Perhaps it had been wrong of her to assume that living here, for free, would be enough of an incentive for a young woman like Sitka.
“I can write it off as an expense—childcare while I work on the book.” She was sure many mother-writers used some of their advance for childcare.
“Okay,” Sitka said. “Let’s see how it goes, then.”
“That will formalize our arrangement, which is probably best for both of us,” Angeni said. “I don’t want you to feel unappreciated.”
“I don’t, I just—”
“So it’s settled?” Angeni asked. “I’ll work out the weekly wage when I talk to Erik.”
“Okay,” Sitka said.
Angeni had already turned back around and was marching back toward the house as Sitka delivered a barely audible “Thank you.”
