Aunt Tilley looped her arm through mine. “I’m proud of you, sweetheart,” she said. “You’re getting your second chance at love. I feel it in my bones.”
As Big George walked up to put her other arm in the crook of his, I whispered, “I think you’re getting yours too.”
She winked at me and smiled as we walked through the just-bloomed azaleas to fill up the three large-sized SUVs our family needed to get to church. I helped the ladies in and stood back, taking a moment to look around at the ancient trees, the sparkling water, the stunning houses on this swath of land that had raised me. I was getting my second chance; I was ready. But man. Was it ever going to be hard to say goodbye.
DAISYA Day of Miracles
So far foster motherhood had been, um… Well, it had been exhausting. I had thought that Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday were the really trying part because I was working. But then Thursday had come and, I mean, sure, I know better than anyone,Sleep when the baby sleeps. But, come on? How can you sleep when there are five loads of those teeny-tiny clothes to wash and bottles to sterilize and a house to clean and somehow in there you are expected to feed yourself something that doesn’t come out of a package so that you have the energy to continue the cycle? By Friday afternoon, I was at my wits’ end. The state had to pay for five days a week of day care even though I insisted I only needed three. So, on Friday, when I looked at my watch, expecting it to be 3 p.m., and realized it was only 10 a.m., I broke down. I packed Maisy up in the car with her bottles and her diapers, I kissed her goodbye, and I cried as I drove the seven minutes back to my house about what a failure I was as a parent, about how I could never do this, and they should just take her away from me right now. And then I collapsed onto the couch and promptly fell asleep for four straight hours.
When I awoke, I felt a nagging pain in my chest. It was the pain of missing the baby who, only hours earlier, had made me feel like I might not survive. Was this what motherhood was supposed to be like? As someone who had tons of experience with babies and found herself utterly competent at the whole rigamarole, I had long ago decided that what made mothers so crazy was all the hormones involved with giving birth. As it turns out, a big part of it must be sleep deprivation, according to my very personal current research.
I wanted to run right back to day care and pick Maisy up, snuggle her, breathe in her intoxicating baby smell. But I forced myself to take a shower, wash my hair, clean the house, and get prepared and resettled first. What did I remind every mother who was at my hospital? It’s okay to take a break. You can’t be everything to the baby all the time. I looked in the mirror and said those same things to myself. It made me feel a little better. But only a little. Mom guilt was real.
But the separation reminded me that Maisy was not mine. She might not ever be mine. To top it off, I had been so busy mothering and balancing and juggling that I almost hadn’t had time to realize how distant Mason had been. Almost.
He’d texted and stopped by, sure. But he hadn’t spent the night or made any real plans. Then again, maybe I should credit him with being thoughtful. Plus, this was an extraordinary situation. I knew that Mason wasn’t exactly what you would call A-1 husband and father prepared. I was throwing a lot at him.
Even so, on Easter morning, after Maisy and I had explored her Easter basket, filled with stuffed bunnies, bunny pj’s, and a bunny paci, I was so anxious to see him, I decided to leave a little early. I opened the door—and almost ran right smack into Julie. “Oh my gosh!” she said. “I’m so sorry. I was just out here pacing, trying to decide if I should knock.”
She smiled so sweetly that I felt a little bit sorry for her.
“I’m sure you’re busy, but is there any way we could talk? Just for a moment?”
I didn’t want to talk. I wanted a family Easter where everyone loved each other. I wanted my real parent who was always there for me. I didn’t wantthis.
“Please, Daisy. I just thought that on Easter, a day of miracles…”
I obviously couldn’t argue with that. And, also, maybe I shouldn’t have been, but I was sort of embarrassed by our last exchange. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I owed this woman something even though, from the outside looking in, surely it was the other way around.
I gestured for her to come inside. I sat down on the couch with Maisy’s carrier at my feet. Julie sat in the chair to my left. I knew it would be polite to offer her coffee. But I just couldn’t. “I’m heading to the Thaysdens’ for lunch, so I don’t have long.” There. Words.
“I understand. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for leaving. I’m so sorry for not keeping in better touch.”
Better touch? How aboutno touch at all.
“This is so hard because I don’t want to make excuses, but I also want to explain myself. You know what I mean?”
I nodded. I wanted excuses. I wanted areason.
“Your dad and I had just started dating when your biological mom died. I was nineteen, and he was twenty-two, and, yeah, it was unexpected. But I fell in love with you right away. I don’t think I ever would have gotten married at twenty-one, but we were a family. Iwantedus to be a family. And, so, it was just the obvious thing to do. I don’t even know if your dad and I would have made it long-term, but I loved you so much, and it just made sense.”
Something low and seething burned in my belly. “So, you didn’t want to marry my dad but you did because of me?”
She sighed and looked down at her hands. “No. I’m just…” She looked up. “You know what? I knew better than this. I’m just here to say I’m sorry. I know there’s nothing I can say to make you understand, and I don’t deserve it anyway.”
She stood up, and I panicked. “No!” I said. “I want to hear it. I won’t interrupt again. I’m sorry.”Stop apologizing, I scolded myself.
“Your dad and I were… I don’t know. It sounds stupid to say now that I’m older, but we sort of coexisted. And I think I reached this point where I didn’t want to live my whole life without love, which, I know, was selfish.”
“That’s not really that selfish.” I wasn’t naïve enough to think that all marriages were happy ones. I hadn’t gotten that luxury. It was one of the reasons I was so cautious about relationships.
“I had no idea that when I left him, he would fight so hard to prevent me from having any custody.”
In my line of work, I knew a thing or two about custody. “Julie, you moved to Cape Carolina. You couldn’t have imagined that you were going to get custody if you left town.”
She shook her head. “Daisy, I was too dumb to do my homework. Your dad had taken care of me since I was nineteen. I thought I could do things on my own, but I couldn’t. I got in over my head.”
I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t letting her off the hook.
