Allison got up, and before I followed her to the front door, I lay Maisy on my lap one final time and looked down at her sweet face, rubbing my thumb on her cheek. “I love you forever, and I will always be here for you.”
She cooed up at me like she understood.
The door was open, and I could see Sarah and Cheryl waiting, Allison still on the front stoop. They all watched as I walked slowly toward the door, unable to control my tears. I squeezed Maisy tighter, kissed her one last time, and handed her to Sarah very gently. As Maisy began to cry, I knew I couldn’t stand there and exchange pleasantries. I could barely breathe. Not only was I leaving her, but she wasn’t going to understand why. I couldn’t explain it to her. She was already crying for me, and I hadn’t even left.
She’ll be okay, I tried to tell myself. I reminded myself to breathe.
I tried to smile but couldn’t quite muster it. I planted one last kiss on Maisy’s cheek, then turned and walked away, trying to control my tears, Sarah calling “I’m so sorry, Daisy. Thank you so much” behind me. I threw her a little wave without turning, but I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t bear to hear my girl crying, couldn’t stand to spend one more second in this moment where I was giving her away.
By the time I got back in the car, my chest was heaving, and my sobs were coming out faster than I could control them. I knew it wasn’t safe for me to drive, but I couldn’t stay either. I have no recollection of going back to my house, of getting in my bed. But I guess at some point I cried myself to sleep because, when I woke up, it was almostdark.Maisy, was my first thought. And then I remembered with a dull ache in my chest: Maisy wasn’t mine anymore. Maisy was gone.
My second thought?Tilley’s play.I couldn’t go. There was no way.
I walked to the bathroom, examining myself. My eyes were puffy and swollen. But I felt all cried out. I reasoned that Maisy was getting settled in now, that she would feel attached to her mother, that this was the right thing and, even if it wasn’t, there was nothing I could do about it.
My phone buzzed. Tilley:
Can’t wait to see you at opening night! I left a ticket for you at Will Call!
I groaned. I absolutely could not go, I thought again. I was too exhausted. Too devastated.
But, then again, this was my new reality. Life without Maisy. I couldn’t just sit in the house for the rest of my life. Maybe the play would make me feel better. Plus, I had promised. Tilley was important to me. I didn’t want to let her down.
Also, I had that tiny, tingly feeling that I would see Mason. I was going to have to face the music at some point, and the fact that I hadn’t run into him yet was sort of a miracle. And, even though we were in a weird place, I knew that seeing him might help me feel better. I could almost feel his arms wrapped around me. Just the thought of it calmed my racing pulse.
I remembered Tilley saying, “Honey, I consider you one of my nearest and dearest. It would break my heart if you weren’t in the audience on opening night.”
How was I supposed to argue with that?Bootstraps, I thought. I’d pull myself up by mine because that was what I did. I splashed cold water on my face and took a deep breath. I practiced my fake smile in the mirror until I could almost believe it myself.
As a special guest of Tilley’s, I had been assigned a seat in the third row, right in the middle. As I apologized and shuffled over people to get to my spot, it hit me: This was a setup. She was going to put me right smack beside Mason so that we had to talk. But, as I looked around the audience, I noticed the back of his head at the end of the row in front of me with Parker, Amelia, and the rest of the Thaysden/Saxton clan. I felt sad for a moment that I wasn’t with them. No baby. No boyfriend.
Julie took her seat in the row in front of me, a few seats down, and turned to wave. I waved back. I didn’t hate her anymore. But the fantasy of some long-buried miscommunication was dead for me now. I wanted to continue to get to know her. But, gosh. She was justeverywhere. It made it hard to do it on my own terms.
I perused my playbill, smiling to see that I recognized quite a few of the names. Was I part of this community now? Maybe not, I decided, considering that I was sitting here alone.
The lights dimmed and, suddenly, a town sprang to life onstage. And there she was, that resplendent Tilley who positively glittered when the lights were on her. The rest of the cast was also fantastic.
As Cornelius, the shop employee inHello, Dolly!, began singing to Irene Molloy, the hatmaker, “It only takes a moment for your eyes to meet, and then your heart knows in a moment you will never be alone again,” I couldn’t help but think of Mason, of that moment we had met, of all the moments after, of how I’d thought he would be the one to love me my whole life long. I couldn’t help but look over at him. But he was gone.
Cornelius performed his soliloquy and then the most ecstatic, curious thing happened. After the homeless man in the park (onstage, not in real life, to be clear) asked what happened, one by one, the men and women on either side of me began standing up and chiming in on the song, filing out of the aisle as they did, up onto the stage. Thecrowd burst into spontaneous applause because, wow! What a wonderful touch. The swelling chorus filled my heart and my eyes, and I really couldn’t believe how magical and magnificent this community theater performance was. A woman I didn’t know beside me took my arm to lead me out, and I said, “Oh, no, no. I’m just an audience member!”
She shook her head. “No, Daisy. You’re meant to be on the stage tonight. Tilley’s orders.”
I was horrified, here in my black dress while the crowd on the stage was all in period costume. She took my hand, and I protested again but then, really, had no choice but to follow.
It was somewhat dizzying to be swept up with all those talented singers, filling the stage with their beautiful voices. I wasn’t sure what to do until a man I recognizedverywell appeared beside me, took my hand, and pulled me to the front of the stage. My heart seized, and I was so confused that I forgot to be absolutely mortified. The singers went quiet, the light was on Mason, and he took my hands, looked into my eyes, and sang the last line of the song one more time, his eyes glued to me: “It only takes a moment.” He put his hand to my cheek as he sang, “to be loved a whole life long.” Well, of course, the crowd went nuts to see the town celebrity standing there, singing a solo—even if it was only a line. And, as he placed the gentlest, tenderest kiss on my lips, I wanted to cheer too. And I was left wondering if this was for Tilley or, as it seemed at the moment, if it could actually be for me.
Mason gave a small wave to the crowd, who went wild again with cheers, then took my hand and led me backstage. “Daisy, I—”
But I didn’t let him talk or explain. I wrapped my arms around Mason and kissed him again, feeling like I could melt into him. I didn’trealize I was crying until I felt the tears between our cheeks. I pulled away and put my hand on my lips. “I’m sorry. I just…” I looked down at my feet and then I decided that I should be brave. “I just missed you.”
“I just missed you too,” he said. “And I wanted to—”
I put my hand up. “Me first.” I took a deep breath. “I acted horribly, immorally, unhinged. And I am so sorry, Mason. I am so, so sorry. The idea of Maisy being taken from me turned me into a person I didn’t like.” I paused. “And can we blame like at least thirty percent on pure exhaustion?”
He rubbed my arms. “You did the wrong thing for the right reason.”
I cocked my head and laughed. “Yeah. I suppose I did.”
