“I heard you crying and I didn’t know if you wanted me or not.”
“Oh bug.” I kiss her head, and she snuggles in closer. “I always want you.”
“Do you want to say why you’re crying?”
“Not right now.”
She pets my arm that’s wrapped around her. “I like being sad on my own too.”
I squeeze her and all I can think is that six months ago I would have thought that was true of me too. Hiding away to cry in locked rooms, and in my car. Now it feels wrong not telling Tanner about the boring parts of my day. Or crying to him about the worst parts.
38
Days stretch by with no word from Tanner. My texts sit unanswered and my phone calls unreturned. Most days, I can’t take sitting at the apartment knowing he is just a couple doors down working, and we aren’t talking. So, each afternoon I get to the Y early to wait for Winnie. I bring a Jo Atwood novel and read until the kids come running out.
Today, Winnie jumps in the back seat and leans forward.
“Mommy, can we go give Tanner the hat I got him?”
My stomach sinks. “It’s at home, bug.”
“No.” She digs it out of her drawstring bag. “I brought it. Just in case.”
Something in me must click because I am throwing the car in reverse and turning toward his hill. Why not? No point dancing around it. She will drop off the hat, I will stay in the car, and then we’ll leave. If he doesn’t want to talk to me, then fine, but I won’t put Winnie in the middle of our problems. Not the way my parents did.
When we pull up to his property, and I spot him in the distance, fixing the fence in a now occupied pen.
“Is that acow?” Winnie’s jaw is on the floor, and I don’t evenhave time to answer her before she is making a beeline with the hat in hand. I get out and lean against the van, promising myself I won’t move from this spot. I look up at the house. Our rocking chairs sit empty below the midsized ferns. Ones that now begin to cast shadows over the deck.
“Tan!” Winnie calls out and I watch as he whips around. His eyes land on her, then on me, and even from here I can see them turn watery. He looks tired. I wonder if he has been sleeping as poorly as I have been. “Tan, is that a cow?”
“It is.” He smiles. “How was your trip with your Grampy and Nan, Fred? Did you have fun?”
She climbs up onto the fence and holds out the hat. “Here!”
“What is this?”
“We can match.” She smiles and pushes it toward him.
I should be running into his arms. I should be helping brush his hair back and placing the hat on his head. I should be telling Winnie that we are going to stay and that yes, Tanner is my boyfriend and that everything is going to be okay. But my heart is a shattered heap amongst the gravel at my feet. Like shards of glass reflecting back all the sunlight and moonlight that finds it.
I got too close. I let her get too close. I thought this would work.
“Fred.” His voice cracks while his smile is weighed down with love and sadness. “I love it. Thank you.”
I don’t bother hiding the tear I’m wiping away.
“What is the cow’s name?” Winnie asks.
“What do you want to name it?” He slips the hat on.
Winnie looks over her shoulder at me then back to Tanner. “Hannah. You should name her Hannah.”
I can see the physical heartbreak on his face. He knows that I’m leaving. I’m sure of it now. Maybe Dollie told him, maybe Rhett and Lauren called. Or maybe he just knows.
“Hannah it is then.” He tips his head, as his chin quivers ever so slightly. “I’ll take good care of her.”
She holds up her little pinkie, and he connects his to hers.
