I stand up and look Danny in the eyes. The same eyes I looked into at the end of an aisle once. I meant those vows and I would have kept them. But he’s not the one. He probably never was. I have him to thank for Mia. And that’s a gift I can’t ever put a price tag on. My heart softens just a millimeter.
“Take good care of her. And …” I glance at the Corvette, doing the math for the first time. “Wait. How is a booster going to fit in there?”
“She can sit in the passenger seat. The airbag auto deactivates for lighter passengers. It’s legal if there’s no back seat.”
“Legal, yes. Is it safe?”
Danny makes a tsking noise. “We’re driving down a Tennessee highway for a few hours. Small town traffic on both ends. She’ll be fine.”
“I’ll be fine, Mommy,” Mia assures me.
I tuck my lower lip under my teeth and let it out slowly. I could insist on driving her to Maryville. He’s probably right. She’s almost tall enough to give up the booster. Not today, she’s not.
“Okay.”
“I’ll drive the speed limit, Hal,” Danny says with the ease of a very part-time parent. “Don’t fret. It makes those lines in your forehead crease.”
Mia giggles.
“I am not fretting,” I say calmly, employing crisis-deescalation training mode to my voice. “I am being a good mother.”
“You’re the best mom,” Mia assures me.
I’m not sure I want her to be the one having to do that. I always want her to be oblivious to my parenting, like it’s so firmly in place she just lives her life within the structures and habits we’ve established for her good.
“I’m a good mom,” I tell her. “And you’re awesome sauce.”
“In a pan!” Mia shouts.
Danny’s eyes flick between the two of us.
“Okay,” I finally say. “Be safe and have fun.”
“We will!” Mia says.
I reach into the van and pull out her booster, handing it over to Danny.
“Thanks for this,” he says. “I don’t know how to do this right.”
I simply say, “You’re welcome.”
If he wants exoneration, he’ll have to look elsewhere. I didn’t know what I was doing either, but I figured it out. That’s what you do when you’re a parent. You figure it out because another person’s well-being and future depend partly on your ability to figure it out. And you mess up. Goodness knows I have. But you stick with it. That’s how it works. Whatever it is Danny’s doing, it checks none of those boxes.
Stale bread.
But Mia’s happy. And if I thought she were in any kind of real danger, she wouldn’t even go to this park with him, let alone back to Maryville.
I watch as Danny figures out how to install the carseat. Mia helps him. I stand back, arms crossed, out of the way. Then she climbs in and I walk around to her side of the car, leaning in and placing a kiss on her cheek.
“I love you,” I say softly so it’s just between the two of us.
“Love you too, Mommy. So much.” She puts her hand up to my cheek, the same way I do to her so often.
“Have fun,” I say for the umpteenth time.
“We will!” Mia shouts as I shut the door and step back.
Danny smiles cordially over the roof at me before he slides into his seat and pulls away. I stand there, staring after them, arms still crossed until they’re out of sight.
